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.

153. Chapter 153 - Blood, Sweat, and Magic

AUTHOR'S NOTES: It was pointed out to me that I made a small error in a previous chapter. The Ranked Tournaments are in their Quarterfinals, not their Semifinals, and as such, you get to see more duels! And since I made you all wait a while, here's an extra big chapter!

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 153 - Blood, Sweat, and Magic

Ronald Weasley's POV

Tuesday 20th April, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Afternoon)

"You're doing great, Trace," Ron smiled tiredly, holding onto her arm as they walked around her room. "You'll be running up and down Hogwarts in no time, I reckon."

"Thanks…" Tracey managed weakly; her voice even more strained thanks to her aching legs. "For now, though… I'll settle for… this prison…"

"You know, if you want, I can sneak you out of here for a couple of hours," Ron offered, and she shot him a mischievous smirk. "It'll have to be after dark, though."

"Sneak off with you… past midnight?" Tracey winked, chuckling a little. "I wouldn't… mind that, at all… But what would Daphne… think-?"

"I'm being serious," Ron stopped, letting her regain her balance. "Some fresh air will do you good, Trace. I was stuck here too a while ago, so I know how… difficult… seeing these white walls can get. How trapped they can make you feel. Just say the word, and I'll figure something out."

Tracey adorned a more thoughtful expression, as if she were mulling his offer over, but before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. They both looked to see Susana Davis entering the room, carrying a sizable, pink container, and when she looked in their direction, a motherly smile came upon her lips.

"Hello, my darlings," Susana closed the door with her rear, before walking over to them. "Tracey, I've brought you a banoffee pie! Your favourite!" A what pie?

"Really?" Tracey's eyes lit up, much to Ron's surprise. She has a favourite pie? I've never heard her mention anything about it before.

"I Apparated down to the Hungry Monk for it, actually," Susana announced, her smile growing exponentially at the sight of her daughter's excitement. "Do you remember it?" Tracey shook her head, her eyes never leaving the pink container. "That's fine, you were only six at the time. Come along, now. You too, Ron. You have to try this." We're in the middle of something here, lady. Do your eyes not work?

Tracey turned to Ron with a pleading look, but his indifferent expression was quick to remind her that he did not appreciate slackers. "Actually, mum… Ron was helping me… with my recovery… Can you give us… a few more minutes…?" Good. You can have the pie as a reward for your consistent hard work. It'll even taste better for it, I promise.

"Oh… Of course," Susana blinked, looking between the two. "I'll organize some plates and cutlery for us, then."

"Thanks, mum…" Tracey smiled, shooting one last look at the container before restarting her exercise with Ron. "I think… I have a couple more… circles around the room… left in me…" Just a couple? Fine… I suppose, thirty minutes will do for today. I don't want to push her too hard too fast.

"Don't forget the stretches once we're done," Ron reminded her, ignoring her rebellious groans. "Medi-Witch Dagny was adamant about you stretching after, Trace. Don't whine, this is for your own good."

"If Medi-Witch Dagny said so, then you ought to listen, Tracey," Susana added, heading for the door. "I'll be back shortly, all right? You're doing so well, love. I'm very proud of you."

They did their next circle around the room in silence, with the exception of Tracey's occasional pained grunts, but as they passed by the pink container, Tracey drew in a deep breath and smiled from ear-to-ear. That good, is it?

"What exactly is a banoffee pie?" Ron asked, subtly luring her away from it. I'll distract her for the last circle. She's really struggling, now. "Is it Muggle? I've never heard of it before."

"Yeah, it's Muggle…" Tracey wheezed, clinging more tightly to his arm for support. "It's made from… bananas, caramel sauce… and whipped cream… It's the best…" It's a dessert?

"The best, eh? Strange that you've never mentioned it before, then," Ron pointed out, and she merely shrugged. "Is it because it's Muggle?"

Tracey promptly looked ahead, hesitating. "You guys wouldn't… even know what… it is… I didn't see the… point…" Right.

"Are you sure it wasn't because you thought we wouldn't care for it?" Ron countered, knowing all too well that she had a tendency to be insecure when it came to her Muggle roots. "Because it's Muggle, I mean?" Tracey said nothing in response, opting for silence in favour of explaining herself. "You should stop being insecure about these things, Tracey. If you love something, then we want to know about it, even if we don't understand it as well as you do. If it's important to you, then it'll be important for us." Grow up, already. "Haven't we been through enough together for you to embrace who you are?"

"It's not that… simple…" Tracey muttered, frowning a little. "You wouldn't get… it, Ron…"

"Why? Because I don't have things I'm embarrassed about?" Ron asked in response. "Things that were entirely out of my control? I never said it would be easy, just that it's important. You are who you are in this world, Tracey, and if anyone tells you to be something you're not, then you should tell them to fuck off. I forgot that recently, and it made me miserable… So bloody miserable that I can't even describe it. I'd hate to see you find yourself in my shoes, someday. You deserve better than that." Ron then smiled encouragingly, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "You had the courage to throw yourself between me and an unknown Curse, didn't you? Find that courage and be proud of yourself, just as proud as everyone else is of you."

Tracey stopped, looking quite taken aback. "You're… proud of me…?"

"Tracey, we think the world of you," Ron chuckled, as if it were obvious. "I think the world of you." You saved my life. You saved my Cycle. This Universe owes you a great debt, and so do I. No matter what comes next, I won't let you down.

She was quick to avert her gaze out of a strange sense of embarrassment, though the smile growing across her face assured Ron that his words had made their intended impact. "You're being very… sweet… What are you after? Are you trying… to woo me, now?" Using jokes as a cover, eh? Stole my move, Davis.

"Is it working?" Ron laughed, wagging his eyebrows. "I'm pretty smooth, aren't I?"

"…Maybe…" Tracey smirked, swiftly recovering her composure. "Now, I know why… you want to help me… sneak away after… dark… You were asking me… out, weren't you?"

"You got me," Ron sniggered, guiding her forward. "So? Want to sneak away with me?"

"Definitely…" she grinned excitedly, before stumbling a little. "Ow… My ankle…"

"Just lean on me, we're almost done," Ron offered, deciding to take it a little easy on her. She did well, honestly. Next time, instead of walking around, I want to focus more on her ability to hold small objects. She was struggling to write, which means she'll definitely struggle when wielding a wand-…

"Hello?" Tracey rasped, tugging at his arm. "Earth to… Ron… Are you there…?"

"Sorry about that," Ron shook his head clear, shooting her an apologetic smile. "Did you say something?"

"You still… zone out…" Tracey laughed weakly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Where do you… go, exactly…?"

"I like to think ahead," Ron admitted, not caring about his bad habit anymore.

"Are you thinki-… Ugh… Sorry… Are you thinking… about where to… take me…?" No, I'm thinking about our next therapy session, which is far more important.

"Of course," Ron lied, and she beamed. "But I'll need your input on this, I reckon. Where do you want to go? What have you missed most about the Wizarding World?"

"Poker… with my friends…" Tracey replied instantly, making him blink. "Sneak me… into Hogwarts… I want to spend… more time with… everyone… We can go to… the hidden room… That's what I want…" A few games of Wizard's Poker with the others? I don't want to say no to such a simple request, but I'm not sure I should be around the rest of my friends yet. Madam Pomfrey was quite taken aback when I told her how angry I was with them, and just how badly I wanted to make them pay for their past lazine-…

"You're doing it… again…" Tracey brought him back, but this time, he looked more upset than sorry. "Ron…? What's wrong…?"

"You saw how I was with them, didn't you?" Ron sighed out, stopping by her bed and helping her onto it. "Trace… I'm not decent company… One, or, two people, sure… I can handle that just fine, but groups-" Ron stopped and drew in a deep breath, there was no point in feeling sorry for himself. "I can take you to them. You lot can have some fun, and when it's time, I'll come pick you up. How's that sound?" It's the best I can do.

"Not good enough…" Tracey pouted, and Ron let out a tired sigh.

"Trace-"

"We've all fought… before…" Tracey stopped him short, adorning a more serious expression. "Friends fight… It happens, okay…? But if you walk… away, then nothing… gets solved… You don't give up, Ron… Remember? So, don't give up now… just because it… will be awkward at… first… You're better than that…"

"It's not the awkward part that's the problem," Ron sat down beside her, deciding to be fully honest. "I'm scared that one of them will say something stupid, probably Pansy, or, even Theo, and I'll knock their head off their shoulders before I can stop myself." Tracey went wide-eyed at that, just as he expected. "I've been struggling with my anger, lately… A lot… After what happened to you, I've just been through one crisis after another, and it's been really-" he stopped again, reminding himself that self-pity was for worms. "I'm trying to get better; I'm even seeing Madam Pomfrey again, but I need more time. Hell, if I could explain the… rage… inside of me to you, you'd probably run away screaming… I want to hurt people, Trace… I really do… I even go out of my way to start fights, now, and I can't bring that to the group. I'm not the same person I was back in Hogsmeade, and I never will be again. All I can do now is get better at controlling myself, so that's what I'm going to focus on." And if that's not good enough for you, then so be it.

"I didn't realize… things were that bad… for you…" Tracey slowly muttered, surprised by his honesty. "One crisis after… another? Can you tell me… about them…?"

Terrible images flashed in his mind; the Astronomy Tower, Daphne crying and screaming at him, the Carrow Party, the courtroom, Fudge's bloody corpse, the American Aurors, the Grey Mountain, the Sages, Octavia's carefree smile, Cedrella offering him apple slices, Harkin's pained, pale face, Fate's golden form towering over him, and the colour crimson enveloping him.

"…No…" Ron managed, his eyes aging decades.

Tracey stared at him in absolute silence, before eventually lowering her own gaze. "…Okay…"

Ron drew in a deep breath, forcing a smile onto his face for her sake. "It's all right, Trace. Like you said, I don't give up. I'll get better, I promise, and then, we can all play like we used to." Tracey gave a nod, not saying anything. "So? When do you want to sneak out of here?"

"Tomorrow…?" Tracey asked, looking back to him. I've spooked her, I can see it in her eyes. I should just keep my problems to myself. My friends, not even Daphne, are built to handle them. They can't even begin to understand them, actually.

"After ten," Ron gave a nod, nudging her gently. "Be ready, all right?"

"Okay…"

"Now, get up," Ron moved off of the bed, offering her his gloved hand. "Time for those stretches."

"No…" Tracey groaned, her worries immediately replaced by dismay. "I don't… wanna-…"

"I don't care," Ron admitted, not moving an inch. "Let's get to it. I don't want to hear any excuses, nor do I want to hear about how sore you already are. Toughen up, and just get it done."

"Tyrant…" Tracey pouted miserably, and Ron smirked.

"You're goddamn right."

---

Wednesday 21th April, 1994 (Longbottom Manor – Evening)

"It has been too long, Ronald," Lady Longbottom looked up from her work as he approached, a bottle of Sherry in his hands. "Ah, good. You have not come empty handed, I see."

"I'd never be so rude, Lady Longbottom," Ron smiled, offering her the bottle before taking a seat. "And yes, it's been too long since we spoke."

"Will you partake?" Lady Longbottom asked, flicking her wand and Conjuring a pair of crystal wineglasses. Do I have a choice?

"Just a little, please," Ron decided to indulge her, and she promptly opened the bottle and poured. "Thank you."

Lady Longbottom sniffed the wine in her glass, smiling faintly. "A good choice, as always." I hope so. It was their most expensive bottle.

"You can tell just by the smell alone?" Ron asked, taking a sip from his glass. Bloody hell! This is piss! It even looks like piss! "…I'll never understand why you adults enjoy the taste of urine… Yeesh…"

Lady Longbottom chuckled, her demeanour shifting very quickly to a more relaxed one. "There aren't many who would dare speak like that before me, Ronald, especially not about my love of fine Sherry." Is that a warning?

"And you ought to know by now that I'm always the exception to the rule," Ron shrugged, smirking. "But, please, don't let my opinion deter you. I'm certain that Sherry is an acquired taste." I like punch, actually. Nice and fruity. A drink should taste nice for it to be considered… Well, tasty.

"It comes with age and experience," she smiled more fully, taking a sip. "Ah, from Spain itself. Excellent." Fuck off! There's no way you can know that from just tasting it! "To what do I owe this sudden visit, my friend?" I have a use for you.

"Well, firstly, I missed your company," Ron started, grinning when she cocked an eyebrow. "What? It's true!"

"Charming," she chuckled again, gesturing him to move on.

"And, I need a favour from you," Ron restarted, putting his glass down. Gross. "My brother, Charlie, is moving out of my parents' house, today. Actually, he's doing so even as we speak-"

"Should you not be there to see him off?" she interjected, curious.

"Why?" Ron blinked, tilting his head a little. "He is a grown man. He does not need me to hold his hand. And, if he does, then I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I have no time to babysit invalids." Lady Longbottom gave an approving nod, taking another sip. "Anyway, he's moving out, but he still hasn't found steady employment yet."

"Ronald, I offered your brother and Miss. Domitor a job already," she reminded him promptly, losing her mirth. "And he refused my good offer without even the courtesy of discussing it in person, first. The Reserve is fully functional, now, and there is no room for another Dragon Tamer. And, before you even ask, no… I will not remove anyone from my staff just to help someone who clearly does not want my help." Charlie, you fucking clown… I ought to smash a bottle of Sherry on your head next time I see you!

"You would not just be helping him, my Lady, you'd be giving me some sorely-needed peace of mind," Ron said sincerely, leaning forward. "The Wizarding World is a dangerous place, now more than ever, especially for Blood-Traitors. He refused your offer, not because it didn't appeal to him, but because he is more proud than clever. You Gryffindors are all…" he paused, putting on a friendly smile, "…as proud as lions, aren't you?" Arrogant fools, the lot of you. "He didn't want his 'little brother' doing all the work for him. He wanted to be hired solely based on his own qualifications."

"I can understand his reasoning quite well, then, for a man without pride is no man at all, but it does not change my position on the matter," Lady Longbottom refused, and Ron drew in a deep, calming breath. This is not going according to plan. She's too tough a witch to threaten, and she's too valuable an ally to antagonize. I'll have to make some sort of compromise, then, but I will remember this the next time she comes to me looking for a favour.

"What if he were paid out of my pocket?" Ron asked, and she raised an eyebrow. "I need him on that Reserve, Lady Longbottom, far removed from places where he can be easily reached. He broke my heart by looking down on my help, but he's still my brother. It's my duty to ensure his safety in the coming war. Again, you are not doing this for him, but for me. I will pay his salary myself, but only you can hire him."

"Your Great Aunt helped me build the Reserve, and continues to help in its upkeep, so why come to me?" she asked, leaning back and studying his face. "Why not go to your kin, first?"

"Because you manage the Reserve's affairs, including employment, and I don't want to disrespect you by going behind your back," Ron replied honestly. And, I'm in no mood to deal with Aunt Muriel right now. "And, I'm glad I came to you, because you just told me that someone would have to lose their job for Charlie to replace them. I don't want that, so I'm willing to pay for his salary. I mean, I'll pay you, of course, and you can just pass the gold along to Charlie. I would prefer it if he didn't know anything about my involvement, because he'd just quit on the spot."

Lady Longbottom took a long sip, mulling over his proposition. "It would help ease the burden my staff are currently facing. Too many fussy, baby Dragons… This is acceptable to me, Ronald. How do you wish me to proceed with the hiring process? I can't just approach him and beg him to work for me, nor have I listed any openings in the papers." The papers would just bring unwanted attention from other people. I don't want that kind of competition.

"You said that your workers are struggling with their current workload?" Ron hummed, and she gave a nod. "Then, go to the Reserve, find Kirsten when she is by herself, and subtly hint that you're looking into the matter. She'll no doubt alert Charlie the moment she gets home, who will then approach you himself. He's desperate, and I know he wants nothing more than to be working with Dragons." It's just my help he has a problem with… Whatever. It's not important. What's important is doing my duty to my family. I can only control my own behaviour, after all.

"I will drop by the Reserve as soon as I'm able, then," Lady Longbottom smiled, no doubt thinking herself clever. So, basically, I just hired another Dragon Tamer for her out of my own pocket, despite us being 'Eternal Friends'. Oh, I'll remember this. I saved your Grandson's life, and this is how you repay me when I need one of mine protected? You try and cut deals with me? Why? Because he refused your first offer and didn't come kiss your hand? Or, is it because you think I'll respect your shrewd mind for business? That I'll think you my equal? That you can make demands of me and I won't smash your face in? Fine… I'll wait patiently for the day you truly need me, and on that day, I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget. "Is there anything else, Ronald? I really must get back to work." Enjoy it while it lasts, my Lady.

"Could you arrange a meeting for our little alliance next week?" Ron asked, putting on another happy smile. "Here, I mean? I'd offer to host, but my house isn't up to standard."

"I will send the owls out, tonight," she agreed, returning to her work. "Good day to you." Ron rose out of his chair and began making his way out of the study, only for her to call out to him. "And, Ronald, thank you for the piece you did on the Reserve. I had my doubts about Xenophilius Lovegood, but his work inspired many donations He truly does have extensive knowledge on the beasts, just as you promised."

"What are friends for, eh?" Ron shot a smile back, before leaving the study with a dark scowl. Fucking Purebloods… Always trying to find some angle to get richer than they already are.

---

Harry Potter's POV

Wednesday 21th April, 1994 (The Black Lake – Late Evening)

The last few days had been full of surprises, to say the least. First, he had somehow outflown Cedric Diggory, an extremely skilled Seeker in his own right, and done it just as Angelina secured their lead by scoring her fifth goal in a row. Gryffindor had finally won the Quidditch Cup, fulfilling not only Oliver's lifelong dream, but also putting an end to Gryffindor's losing streak. McGonagall herself had come to the celebrations held that night, congratulating Oliver, and Harry, in person, before pulling Harry to the side to let him know that he would be competing in the C-Rank Tournament next weekend, despite his loss to Bulstrode.

He had tried to refuse at first, of course, as he had lost the intense Duel fair and square, but after she had informed him that the decision was made by Dumbledore himself, and that he wished to test Harry's skills further, the Boy-Who-Lived had promptly agreed. This was his chance to prove his worth to the Grand Sorcerer, to show that he could indeed be a part of the Order. He wanted nothing more than to stand against the monster who had murdered his parents, who had cast the world into a decade of terror and death, but most important of all, Harry didn't want others fighting his battles for him. He wanted to fight beside them, to protect them as best he could, and together, put an end to Voldemort once and for all. Mum and dad died for me… I can't let anyone else join them. I don't want to lose anyone to him ever again-…

"Harry!" Hermione snapped, frowning deeply. "Are you even listening to me?!"

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry was pulled out of his thoughts, shooting her a sheepish grin. "I was just thinking about-"

"I'm taking time away from my studies to help you," Hermione huffed, her hands finding her hips in a defiant stance. "The least you can do is pay attention to me." Right…

Hermione, despite being one of his best friends, had not taken the news of him re-joining the C-Rank Tournament well. She hadn't said anything outright, of course, and had even agreed to help him sharpen up his skills without a fuss, but he could tell that she was jealous of him. She wasn't one to care about his titles, or, even his fame, but she had taken her loss to Malfoy straight to heart, and was most likely upset that Harry had been given a second chance by Dumbledore, whereas she had to live with her defeat and embarrassment. Yeah, the least I can do is pay attention. Plus, she's been in a terrible mood ever since her conversation with Ron during the break. I wonder what happened between them… Why won't she just tell us?

"Your shields could use some more work," Hermione told him, sounding a bit too critical. "And stop using Stupefy and Expelliarmus all the time. It's too predictable." But I just disarmed you several times in a row…

"Got it," he nodded, deciding to add more variation in his offensive Spells. "Anything else?"

"No…" Hermione shook her head, deflating a little. "Honestly, you're very good, Harry. I don't have much to teach you, aside from some common sense." Okay… "Just don't forget that Zabini was trained by Ron, so he's bound to have some nasty, Dark Spells up his sleeve. And Nott… Well, Nott is just foul, and will do anything to win, so watch out for his dirty tactics. Those two are your biggest obstacles, but I think you're better than them. You can win this, and prove that you should be in the Order, just like your parents."

"Really?" Harry smiled widely; he liked the sound of that. I can't wait to fight beside Sirius and Remus!

"Really," she nodded, giving a weak smile in return. "I'm going to go, now… I've got loads of homework to do, as do you-"

"Wait," Harry interjected, stopping her short. "Before we go back, can we talk for a bit? It's important."

"Sure, what it is?" she asked, looking somewhat concerned. I should find out what's troubling her, now. Both Neville and I can't take seeing her like this, anymore.

"Why didn't you go to the Potions Club, today?" Harry started. Is it because of what happened between you and Ron?

"Professor Snape cancelled it," she replied, shrugging. Oh… "He's been working on something in private, according to the twins. Never leaves his lab unless he has to." Really? What's he working on? Probably something for the Order. "It's a real shame, because I like going to the Potions Club. He's… not as mean… with us, as he usually is. I think, it's probably because we're helping him with his Potions business, but still, he teaches us some great tricks that you can't find in the textbooks." Snape? Being a decent teacher? That's just unbelievable.

"Maybe, it'll be on next week?" Harry suggested, and she shrugged again.

"I hope so." Time to move on, I suppose.

"Um… Right… So, how are you feeling?" he asked slowly, unsure of how to broach the subject of her terrible mood without having his head chewed off.

"How am I feeling?" she cocked an eyebrow, and Harry let out a nervous chuckle. Yeah, that was a horrible attempt, even by my standards… "Harry, what's this about? This talk, I mean?"

"It's just that Neville and I have noticed that you're…" he paused when she narrowed her eyes on him, feeling more and more nervous. "Hermione, is something upsetting you? Did we do something wrong?"

"Upsetting me?" Hermione took on a defiant stance once again, her face scrunching up. "Do I look upset to you?" Um… Yes… Very…

"We're just worried about you, that's all," Harry said quickly, which seemed to work in his favour. "You rarely talk, you're in the library far more than usual, and you're…" he trailed off.

"I'm what?"

"You're a bit snappish, lately…" Harry all but whispered, but she heard him clear as day.

"I am not snappish!" she snapped, and Harry looked down at his feet. Should've brought a mirror to this conversation. "That's so rude, Harry!"

"Please, Hermione, like I just told you, we're worried about you," Harry sighed out, looking back to her. "If something is bothering you, we'd like to help. We don't like seeing you like this… Can't you just tell us what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong…" she huffed, turning to leave. "I'm going, now."

"We're supposed to be friends, aren't we?" Harry called out, hoping it was enough.

Hermione stopped, becoming rooted to her spot. Please, let that be enough! I don't know what else to say to get her to open up! Slowly, she turned back around, her expression a mixture of guilt and annoyance.

"…Harry, it's complicated, okay…?" Hermione muttered, not meeting his gaze. "Can you just leave it, please?"

"So, there is something wrong," Harry knew he was right, and now, he was definitely not letting it go. "What happened? Does it have anything to do with your conversation with Ron?"

"What makes you think that?" she asked hurriedly, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Well, your reaction, for starters…

"We noticed you acting off afterwards," Harry replied, moving a bit closer. "And you're still acting off, so I'm guessing that, whatever happened, it was bad… Like 'you got into a fight with him' bad."

"I didn't get into a fight with him, all right?" Hermione said defensively, frowning. "He was an absolute arse to me for no reason, while I was just trying to be supportive! A complete prat!"

"Oh…" Harry managed, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe, you caught him at a bad time?"

"So, it's my fault?!" she demanded, and Harry felt the urge to run into the Black Lake for cover. I'm so stupid!

"I didn't mean that!" Harry blurted out promptly, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm sure you were doing what you thought was best, but the timing could've worked against you-"

"So, he can just be an arsehole to anyone he likes?! Is that it?!" she fumed, whereas Harry went wide-eyed at her language. I'm really digging my own grave here, aren't I? "I was being supportive, and he all but growled at me like some animal! I'm done with him! He's out of control! He's a-…! He's a prick!" Oh, God… "A big prick! I'm glad he's not at Hogwarts, anymore!" Hermione then wiped harshly at her eyes, and Harry finally realized that she was close to tears. "I can't do anything right… When I try to be a good friend, I just make things worse. When I try to prove myself, I get overwhelmed and fail horribly. When I try to stand up to my bully, I lose in front of the whole school!" What's happening? "And I have so much homework! It just won't stop! I don't even have time to talk to my best friends! But that hardly even matters, because neither of them cares enough about me to spend any time with me! Neville's always running off with Parkinson, whereas you only come to me when you need my help!" Oh… "How's that for snappish, Harry James Potter?!"

With that, she turned on her heels and ran off, sniffling and wiping at her eyes as she did so. Harry just stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to chase her down, or, to smack himself silly for bringing up his concerns in the first place. You know what? She's not wrong… I was constantly practising for the Quidditch Cup, and after finally winning it, I've been really busy with the attention it's brought with it. And Neville… Well, he's totally smitten with Parkinson, and won't stop talking about her… I guess, we really did forget about Hermione, even though we knew something was wrong… I need to fix this, somehow. Oh, I know! I need Ginny! I don't know anything about cheering girls up, but she does!

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Wednesday 21th April, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Night)

Ron slithered into Tracey's room, the Disillusionment Charm once again coming through for him, and he swiftly spotted her sitting on the edge of her bed, already dressed for her outing. Merlin, she looks even skinnier in casual clothing… It's fine, though. She'll regain her weight in time, that's all that should matter right now.

"Are you ready?" Ron whispered, spooking her. Ha! Got her!

"Merlin's balls…" she whispered back, her hand resting over her heart. "I didn't even… notice you come… in…"

Ron undid the Disillusionment Charm, a mischievous grin already plastered across his face. "What can I say? I'd make for a great thief!"

"I'm sure…" Tracey snorted, grunting as she stood up. "My legs are still… killing me… I hate you…"

"Sorry, but not sorry," Ron shrugged, walking over to her. "Now, let's get moving, eh? I want to bring you back by eleven at the latest."

"Only three hours…?" she pouted immediately. "No… Midnight-"

"Eleven," he stopped her, not planning to negotiate any further today. Lady Longbottom got her way with me, you won't. "I will not allow you to jeopardize your sleep, and as a result, your health, for a night of fun. First, it'll be midnight, and then, it'll be one, and then, it'll-"

"I got it…" she rolled her eyes, before smiling widely. "Thank you… for this… Ron… I was going barmy… in here…"

Ron smiled back, it comforted him just to see her on her feet again. "Don't worry about it, Trace."

"So… How are we… doing this…?" Tracey asked, massaging her freshly-bandaged throat absentmindedly.

"Marty, I need you," Ron whispered, and within a heartbeat, the Elf Apparated into the room.

"Master-!"

"Shhh!" Ron quickly shushed him, making him go wide-eyed. "Sorry, mate, but not so loud. We're up to some morally debatable business, tonight."

Marty beamed, a glimmer of excitement in his large eyes. "Marty understands, Master. Marty will be as silent as a black cat."

"Not too silent, though," Ron's smile widened, gesturing Marty to turn around. "Guess who's behind you?"

Marty turned around, looking up at Tracey's grinning face. "Young Miss. Davis! It's really you!" Not so loud, Marty! What the fuck?! Ron smacked his forehead, whereas Tracey giggled as Marty ran over and hugged her legs. At this rate, we're going to get caught before we even leave the room. "Marty has spent many nights awake thinking of what happened! Marty is so sorry for not being-!"

"It's okay… Marty…" Tracey rasped, reaching down and scratching his head. "I'm okay, I promise…"

"Young Miss. Davis' voice…" Marty looked beyond shocked, making Tracey fidget in her spot. "It's…" he trailed off, still staring at her in horror. Really, Marty?

"Not as sexy… as before, right…?" Tracey managed, her smile turning awkward and strained.

Marty gave her a pitiful look, before shooting one towards Ron as well. You'd better say sorry, or, I'll make you sorry!

"Forgive Marty's poor reaction, young Miss. Davis!" Marty quickly caught onto Ron's darkening expression, turning back to face Tracey. "Marty is surprised, is all! Young Miss. Davis has paid a steep price for protecting Master's life, and Marty will never forget such bravery!" That's better… "Never!"

"Shhh," Tracey shushed him this time, putting on a façade of strength Ron easily saw through. "It's fine… I can't say that… I reacted any… better myself… It's good to… see you again, though…"

"Marty feels the same way," the Elf sniffled, pinching his large eyes. "Marty owes everything to young Miss. Davis… Everything." He's going to start sobbing soon, isn't he? I'd better step in, now, before it's too late.

"You two can catch up more at Hogwarts," Ron took a step forward, drawing in a deep breath. "Time is short as it is, all right? Marty, can you Apparate us to my Sanctuary in Hogwarts?"

"Master wishes to be Apparated?" Marty asked, sounding even more worried.

"I get your concern, but I can't sneak her out of here any other way," Ron shrugged, hoping that his luck was going to hold. "And, recently, I managed to take three Portkeys without any complications." That was certainly… strange… Not that I'm complaining, of course. "I want to see if I can Apparate too, even if it through Elf Magic."

"What are you two… talking about…?" Tracey looked between them; her brow furrowed. "Ron?"

"I get dizzy because of Apparition," Ron replied, deciding that telling her the whole truth would only worry her. "It doesn't matter… Marty, let's get a move on, shall we?"

"Certainly, Master," Marty bowed, before offering them both his hands. "Marty will take care to be extra gentle with Master."

"Cheers," Ron took Marty's hand in his gloved one, gesturing Tracey to follow his lead. "Come on, Trace. The more time you spend here, the less time you'll have there."

Tracey took Marty's hand at that, and immediately, the world turned in on itself, before they were brought back to it far away from St. Mungo's. Ron felt his legs wobble the moment they touched solid ground, his head already swimming in the stars. Fucking hell… So dizzy…

"Ron, are you-?" Tracey started, but stopped with a squeal as he fell forward onto his hands and knees. Fuck… There's no pain, but still, I feel like I'm going to pass out…

"Master?!" Marty was quick to put his arms around Ron, trying to support him. "Is there any pain?!"

"No… No…" Ron breathed heavily, slowly getting his bearings. "No pain, not this time… I just feel really dizzy… Like the whole world is spinning around me…"

"I'll help you…" Tracey moved to his side, and much to his shock, she pulled him up to his feet with relative ease.

"What the…?" Ron shot her an alarmed look, but she ignored it in favour of dragging him to a chair and tossing him onto it. "Ow… My arse… My head and my arse…"

"Sorry…" she cringed visibly, leaning on the chair's armrest. "Just got really… tired myself… all of a sudden…" Yeah, after you lifted me up like I didn't weigh anything! What was that?! Oh, wait… The leaf… It must've given her a lot more strength than even I thought possible… "Are you… okay…? Still dizzy…?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her, closing his eyes and shaking his head clear. "Portkeys are safer than Apparition, then… Good to know…" Still, I don't feel any pain, nor did I pass out. That's progress, and it's probably because I'm actually taking better care of myself, lately. Sleeping more every night, eating on time, and training my body with more dedication than ever. I shouldn't push my luck, though, especially near other people.

"Shall Marty fetch Master some water?" Marty asked, looking beyond worried for him.

"No, mate, I'm good," Ron opened his eyes, smiling weakly. "Yeah, it's passed. I'm good. Thanks for helping me up, Trace. Here, sit down." Ron got up, before carefully helping Tracey into the chair. "You all right? Still keen to do this?"

Tracey nodded, but he could see that she didn't care as much about having a fun night as before. She was visibly concerned, and she was definitely not going to forget this. Eh, whatever… I can't hide stuff like this forever. And, it'll do her good to see that even I'm vulnerable. Inspire her to work harder during her recovery, and whatnot.

"Marty, head down to Slytherin and let the others know that there's a surprise waiting for them here," Ron started, looking to Marty. "Don't tell them what it is, and don't mention me, all right? Tracey wants to surprise them."

"Marty understands," the Elf gave a bow, before vanishing from sight.

"You wait here and catch your breath," Ron looked back to Tracey, smiling more fully. "I've got some business to deal with, but I'll be back soon enough-"

"What business…?" she asked, taking his hand in hers. "And you can't… Apparate…? What was that… Ron?" The dangers of sharing a body with a mental cunt… That's what that was.

"You know what it was, Trace," Ron's smile turned more sympathetic, especially when she went wide-eyed. "It's okay, though. I've got it under control, I promise. I'm not going to let something like this stop me, not ever. We are both stronger than our weaknesses, remember that."

"Okay…" she muttered, still looking worried.

"Now, I have to go before the others show up," Ron pulled his hand away, turning to leave. "Have fun, won't you? I'll see you soon."

"You better… come back and… play one game… at least…" she rasped, but Ron simply waved goodbye without looking back.

The moment he stepped foot outside the Sanctuary, he brandished his Aspen wand and turned himself semi-invisible. Now, to go find out what possessed the 'Silver Triumvirate' to move against me. Ready, or, not, but here I come, you ungrateful fucks! I'm going to give you one final warning, explain to you how things really are, and if you still choose to fuck around, then I'll show you just how terrible I can be! He began making his way towards the Moving Staircase, looking around each corner first and always minding how lightly he stepped, until finally, he reached his destination without being noticed. However, just as he began to descend the staircase, he spotted Hermione and Ginny making their way up towards him. Shit! Why are they out so late?! And why do I keep forgetting to sense Magic as I move about?! I can be such a dumb bastard when I try! Moving back up the stairs and hugging the wall, Ron became motionless in the hopes of not being detected by the pair. Of all the people to run into… They must be heading for Gryffindor Tower, so I just need to be patient-…

"Are you feeling any better?" came Ginny's voice, easily reaching Ron because of how empty the castle was at this time of night.

"I suppose…" Hermione sighed out, intriguing Ron a little. She's upset about something? Now, what? "Thanks for listening to me, Gin. I didn't know that I was so… pent up… Poor Harry, I should probably apologize to him for my outburst…"

"You don't have to do that," Ginny assured her, their steps getting closer and closer. "Harry understands that you've been under a lot of pressure, that's why he came to me. And, clearly, that was the right call. Even I didn't realize how stressed you were. You can't just bottle feelings up, you know? You should come find me if you want to vent every now and then."

"Okay… I'm sorry you missed dinner because of me-"

"Don't worry about it, seriously," Ginny interjected. "You had to get all that stuff off your chest, I get it. And, for what it's worth, I don't think Neville will be into Parkinson for much longer. She's a little too out there for him, you know?" Wait… What? Hermione's into Neville, now, is she?

"You're talking about the rumours surrounding her, aren't you?" Hermione asked, and Ron frowned deeply. Those rumours are lies! If I catch you two spreading them, so help me-…!

"No, I don't really believe those, especially not after talking to her myself," Ginny replied, much to Ron's surprise. "I meant that she's too… loud… Too energetic. I don't know. I just don't see it working out between them. They're just too different from each other. And, as for Harry, he understands now that he should pay a little more attention to you, instead of always hanging around Neville. You're his friend too, and he feels really bad about ignoring you." And you seem to know a great deal about how Harry feels, eh?

"…He's been busy, I get it…" Hermione mumbled, their footsteps coming to a sudden stop. "He'll ask you about the 'fight' I had with Ron, all right?" Huh? "You can't tell him anything, Gin. Harry will mean well, but he'll confront Ron about it, and I don't think those two need another reason to start-"

"My lips are sealed, believe me," Ginny cut in. "And, again, I'm really sorry about my brother… I… I don't really know what to say beyond that… I'm sorry. He's just going through a lot, and…" she trailed off, her voice heavy with guilt. "I'm really sorry, Hermione."

Ron felt himself tense up a little, it bothered him to hear his little sister apologizing to others on his behalf. And, it wasn't hard for him to recall his 'fight' with Hermione, which, now that he wasn't under the Calming Draught's influence, could hardly even be called a fight. She had come to him to offer him a shoulder to lean on, but he had found the very notion of relying on another person, especially after Octavia's horrid fate, insulting. I should probably ignore this, avoid the drama for my own sake, but what would Madam Pomfrey say? She would say that I took the easy road, even though I promised her that I wouldn't… Damn you, you old bat… I don't have time for this right now-…

"Can I ask what he's going through?" Hermione inquired softly, but was met with silence. "Ginny?"

"…I can't tell you," Ginny eventually answered, sounding even more guilty. "I promised myself to do better by him, even if I don't agree with him keeping so many secrets from everyone… I'm sorry… I think, he's only told family, and if I tell you, he'll become angry with me, again…" You're not making this any easier, Ginny! Damn it all to hell, I can spare five minutes! Just five! I'll apologize, and then, I'll fuck off! In and out! Keep it simple!

"It's okay, I understand," Hermione told her, restarting her journey upwards. "C'mon, we should get back. It's almost time for curfew, and I know Mr. Filch always starts from up here." Ugh… Let's just do this…

The closer they got to Ron, the more visible he became, until finally, they were moving past his right, too absorbed in their conversation to notice him leaning against the wall. "Hello, you two-"

Both girls screamed in terror, with Hermione dropping her book bag as Ginny clung to her side. Ron raised an eyebrow at them, whereas they stared back at him with horror-struck features. Nice start, Ron… Nice start.

"Godric Gryffindor would be so proud," Ron commented, standing up to his full height. "Here, let me take care of that."

With a wave of his hand, he packed all of Hermione's books and notes back into her Muggle study bag, which then began to hover in front of her. She quickly seized it, hugging it close to her chest. Why doesn't she just levitate her books like the rest of us? She's a witch, isn't she?

"Ron?! What are you doing up here?!" Hermione hissed, while Ginny hunched over and began drawing in deep breaths. "You nearly gave us both heart attacks! What's the matter with you?!" Should I start alphabetically, or, chronologically?

"Scaring you two wasn't my intent," Ron assured them, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I was just passing through and heard you two coming up, that's all."

"You… heard us?" Hermione went wide-eyed, her face flushing right after. "W-What did y-you hear, exactly?" That you want Longbottom's long-… I can't say that. She'll stab me.

"Just some murmuring, and then I looked around the corner and saw you two," Ron shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Thought I'd say hello."

Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks, both of them still seemed tense. Right… I should start-…

"Why are you at Hogwarts, Ron?" Ginny asked, taking a step forward. "Are… Are you coming back?" I don't want to come back, but after seeing the state of Slytherin in my absence, I should start planning my return sooner rather than later. Fuck those idiots.

"No, not yet," Ron replied, reaching forward and patting her rosy cheek. "It's good to see you, though, little sis." She's been flying, recently. She has windburn.

Ginny managed a small smile, her shoulders relaxing. "You too, Ron. You're looking… healthier…"

"Good sleep, and good food, does that to a person," Ron shrugged, before looking to Hermione, who didn't seem half as pleased to see him as Ginny. "Last time we spoke, I was a horrible piece of shit to you. Downright twat-like, actually. An utter cunt." Hermione blinked, her mouth hanging open due to his colourful language. "I'm sorry about my behaviour. I was not well in the head, which is not an excuse, just the reasoning. A… A friend of mine… She had just died…"

"…What?" Hermione muttered, visibly shocked.

"I was grieving her loss, except not in a healthy way," Ron continued, the pain of failing Octavia still felt fresh. "I was angry, bitter, and hopeless… I was drowning myself in Potions so I could stop feeling that way, but they just numbed the pain instead of taking it away. And then, you came over and told me to focus on the positives in my life, and I lashed out at you. That was not right, and it was definitely not fair… I'm sorry."

Hermione said nothing in response, simply giving him a slow nod. That's fair enough. Ron then looked back to Ginny, who was smiling proudly at him.

"I bought you goggles and a face-mask," Ron reminded her, and her proud smile swiftly turned sheepish. "Use them, all right? You look like a tomato. Honing your skills is a good habit, but don't be stupid about it." That's my job, and you can't have it. Be better than me.

Not waiting for whatever retort Ginny was thinking up, Ron turned and began making his way down the stairs, eager to get to the Slytherin common room while it was still packed. The Triumvirate should be in their rooms, though. They hardly ever sit outside with the others, which will work in my favour tonight.

Reapplying the Disillusionment Charm on himself, Ron navigated the castle without further incident, eventually sneaking into the Slytherin common room undetected. His House-mates were beginning to retire to their rooms for the night, with the exception of those who were studying for tomorrow's classes, so Ron was forced to wait until the girls' dorms weren't crawling with potential witnesses. When he finally reached his destination, standing perfectly still just outside the Silver Triumvirate's room, Ron drew in a deep breath and collected his thoughts. No violence, remember that. Just remind them of their place, of all that they owe you, and then, give them a simple choice. They can either serve faithfully and prosper, or, they can rebel and be discarded. There is no middle ground with me, not anymore.

Ron knocked on the door, and after a few seconds, the door opened halfway and Clara stuck her head through the crack. "Um… What? Hello? Is someone there?" Just the arse you manipulated every chance you got.

"Who is it?" came Samantha's voice, and Clara frowned deeply before looking back.

"Probably one of the first years thinking they're being funny," Clara huffed, but just as she went to close the door, Ron moved forward and pushed it open, scaring her. "What the fu-?!"

Ron suddenly undid the Disillusionment Charm, making Clara and Samantha go wide-eyed from shock and horror. "Sorry for the late intrusion, but we need to talk."

"Get out," Samantha hissed, while he closed and locked the door. "Are you deaf, Weasley? You're not welcome here-"

"Shut your mouth," Ron warned dangerously, turning around with a dark expression. "You, of all people, should speak to me with a little more respect, 'Lady Selwyn'. After all, I'm all that stands between you and the likes of Yaxley, remember?"

He then looked towards Carey, who sat frozen on her bed with a novella open in her lap, her entire body tensing up visibly as they locked eyes. However, just as he went to speak, Clara put herself between him and Carey in an attempt to hide the blonde from him. Touching…

"I'm not here to fight," Ron said in an even voice, showing them his empty hands. "I'm not even here to argue, actually. There's a lot that needs to be said, and by the end of it, I hope we can begin moving on from-"

"You threw her off of a cliff," Clara interrupted, her face twisting in anger and disgust. "We don't have anything to say to you! Get out!"

"I did throw her off that cliff, yes," Ron nodded, any shame he had felt for doing so was now dead and buried. "But no, I will not be leaving until I've said my piece. You three owe me that much, at least."

"We owe you?" Clara scoffed, shooting a look towards Samantha, who was watching Ron like a hawk. "How do you figure that, exactly?" So ungrateful.

"Well, in your case, not only did I convince the Headmaster to let you into the Order for your safety in the coming war, but I also secured you a job with Crouch Snr," Ron reminded her, before looking towards Samantha. "And you… I also secured you a spot in the Order, despite your heritage, and then, I gave you a place in my alliance in order to protect you from Yaxley's schemes. I'm also the reason why Professor Snape went out of his way to recommend you to St. Mungo's, even if you didn't need me to do that for you." He then looked back to Clara, though his eyes saw past her. "And Carey… You're also in the Order, and not only that, but the Headmaster will make sure that you get that Wizengamot job you want, because I'm going to make sure he doesn't forget. Tell me, you three, what have you done for me that comes even close to all that I've done for you?"

"You threw Carey off of a cliff!" Clara repeated, whereas Samantha and Carey remained silent.

"And you manipulated and used me," Ron countered, his gaze matching hers. "You three pretended to be my friends, pretended to care about me, all the while abusing my goodwill for your own gain. You even seduced me, a third year, by constantly, purposefully flaunting your bodies in my face, not to mention that little show you put on with Carey. You preyed on my innocence because it made you feel powerful and in control, and just as you planned, I did whatever you wanted without any fuss, even when it inconvenienced, or, embarrassed me." Never again. I'm no one's lapdog. No woman will ever make me compromise myself for her with such pathetic tactics. "What I did to Carey was wrong, but you're no saints, either. You simply employ different tactics from me, but you're just as malicious and manipulative." Ron then drew in a deep breath, feeling oddly bitter the more he thought about their actions. "I thought you were my friend, Clara… I really believed it. I even showed you my scars, because I felt safe with you, but you were just playing with me. It was all a game to you, despite knowing just how fucked up I was. You don't think that hurts me? That it doesn't remind me that I will always be alone in this world? That no matter what I do for others, they'll just keep asking for more and more?"

Clara averted her gaze somewhat, and for a moment, he was certain that he saw guilt cross her face. Yeah, you used me, and you know it. I was just your enforcer, your thug, and if I had had the sense to say no, you'd have found yourselves another fool. Sometimes, I really wonder why I even bother with this planet, and all the cunts on it… Ron took a few steps forward, and then, a few more, slowly approaching Clara until he standing right in front her. You can't even look me in the eyes, can you? Why? Because you know your tricks won't help you, anymore? Or, has no one ever called you out before? How many other boys in Slytherin have you done this to? Is it really that easy for you?

"My patience is now at its limit with you," the Champion whispered icily, using his gloved finger to raise her head by her chin. "I am a very dangerous man, Clara, more dangerous than you can even fathom. Do you understand me?" I will have you raped by dogs under the Imperius Curse right in front of your parents. I really will. They will watch helplessly as you are devoured before their very eyes, and when they go mad from grief and terror, I'll split their skulls!

Clara swallowed thickly, the more she looked into his pale, empty eyes the more she shrunk in on herself. Ron removed his finger from her chin and walked past her, approaching Carey's side. Look at her. She's petrified. You're not going to give me a kiss, now, Carey? Whisper kind words in my ear, and then point me towards those who doubt your leadership? Like I'm your dog?

"Slytherin. Is. Mine," Ron all but snarled, leaning down until his face was mere inches from hers. "You are not leadership material, Carey, and neither are your friends. You rely on the strength of others to secure your rule, because you yourself are neither strong nor brave. Someone like you has no business running this House, because no matter what happens, you will always seek to benefit yourself first and foremost. That's not what Slytherin needs right now. What it needs is a man of action, someone who isn't afraid to get his own hands dirty. What it needs is someone who cares about his House-mates' futures, who will watch out for them as if they were his own kin. What it needs is… me." Ron then pulled back, standing up to his full height. "I didn't take Slytherin from you because I'm hungry for power. I did it because I'm trying to change how this House works, and more importantly, how the rest of the world believes it works. I don't want to see my House-mates abandoned because of their House's sordid history, again. I don't want the other Houses to turn on us and isolate us, again. I don't want history to repeat itself, because I know we will never recover from that. Life rarely gives second chances, and we can't afford to squander ours."

Ron made his way to the centre of the room again, looking at each of them with cold, furious eyes. "You can't understand my reasons because you don't care enough to lie awake at three in the morning, scared for the very people who constantly find reasons to disappoint and doubt you. This is why I took Slytherin from you three, because you are the power-hungry ones. You love the idea of ruling, but you don't love those you wish to rule over. The Silver Triumvirate, in essence, is everything wrong with Slytherin, and it has to be abolished for all of us to change. Your time is done. If you think otherwise, then challenge me right now. Go on."

Silence filled the room, and Ron waited patiently for one of them to speak up. Well?! I'm waiting! Are you going to challenge me?! Are you going to fight me?!

"…What if we do challenge you?" Samantha eventually asked, looking towards her friends. "Will you convince the Headmaster to cast us out of the Order? Will you cast me out of your alliance?"

"I will do far more than that," he assured her, his eyes flashing red.

Samantha turned as pale as a ghost, nodding meekly. Ron then looked to Clara, who was still distracted by his earlier words, her eyes fixed on the floor. It's done, then.

"In my absence, you lot have undermined me and let Flint run rampant," Ron started, drawing in a calming breath. "This cannot be allowed to continue. That fucking idiot will keep losing House Points, and even though we have a massive lead right now, mostly thanks to me, everything can go tits up in just a month. You will coordinate with the fifth years, the sixth years, and the seventh years still in your corner, and you will put a stop to him. When I eventually return, I want you to have paved the way for me to continue my good work." Ron then looked to Samantha, knowing that she was the toughest of the trio. "Have I made myself clear? Are there going to be any more problems between us?"

"…You've made yourself clear," Samantha eventually answered, as if trying to collect herself and failing horribly. "And no… No more problems…"

"That didn't sound very convincing to me."

"No more problems, Weasley," Samantha said more surely, standing up straighter. "And, for what it's worth, we were friends… You were right, of course, we did manipulate you, but we also cared about you in our own way…" Is that so? "And you hurt us far worse than we hurt you. Just look at Carey… She hasn't been the same since that night." Oh, please… Toughen the fuck up. You think what I did to her was bad, try getting mind-raped by a bunch of evil Horned Serpents! If you want to play on my level, then be on my level! You come at me with anything less, and I'll destroy you!

Ron looked towards the blonde, she was staring at him from behind her knees, which were tucked into her stomach, now. There was true fear behind those once-cool-and-calculating eyes, and behind that fear, rage. Hm… I think, in some fucked up way, I've made her stronger than she was before. She just doesn't know it yet, and neither do her friends, but I can see it clear as day. Fear and anger are powerful weapons, if used correctly, and something tells me that I'll get to teach her how to use them someday.

"I will be watching you," Ron spoke directly to Carey, tapping his left eye and then pointing towards her. "You need me a lot more than I need you. Remember that."

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Wednesday 21th April, 1994 (The Sanctuary – Night)

"You two are cheating!" Pansy suddenly squealed, pointing an accusing finger at Theo and Tracey. "I just saw you looking at each other's cards!"

"What…?" Tracey rasped, going wide-eyed. "No, we aren't…"

"Why would we risk cheating with so many Chocolate Frogs on the line, Pans?" Theo added, smiling innocently. "Are you making things up just because you have a terrible hand?"

"Daphne, they're cheating," Pansy huffed, looking to the blonde for support. "I saw them! Look at how close they're sitting! They might as well be cuddling! They're exchanging cards, I bet!"

Daphne smiled knowingly at Theo; he was certainly not hiding his attraction to Tracey, anymore. And the best part is that she feels the same way! They're so cute! "Is Pansy telling the truth, you two? Are you cheating?"

"Of course not," Theo chuckled, whereas Tracey smirked at Pansy. "Do you really think I'd do something so underhanded? That I'd make a deal to exchange cards with Tracey here, and then split the take with her? But then also cheat her by giving her less than half without her knowledge?"

"What…?" Tracey blinked.

"Yes," they all answered unanimously, making him scoff.

"My own friends…" Theo shook his head, tutting. "Faithless and envious… I'm offended, I am. Outraged! Shame on all of you."

"You have six cards in your hand, and she only has four," Blaise pointed out, and they all looked at their hands to make sure. Wow… Pansy caught them mid-exchange, I take it. "Care to explain that?"

Theo stared at his hand for a few seconds, and then, he frowned deeply. "Who's been handing out the cards? What a stupid mistake to make…" Really?! You're doubling down?!

"Forgive Marty for being careless, young Master Theo-" Marty started, but Pansy shushed him promptly.

"Don't apologize to these cheaters, Marty, you did nothing wrong," Pansy glowered, narrowing her eyes on Theo. "I vote that Theo is disqualified, and that we split his frogs between us."

"I think, that's fair," Daphne agreed, as did the others. "Glad we're all in agreement, then. Theo, you're out."

"What?! I put forward eight! You can't take them all!" Theo looked truly panicked, while Tracey shifted away from him. "What about Tracey?! She was cheating too!"

"You must've talked her into it," Pansy smirked, and everyone nodded in agreement.

"This is-… Wow… This is bullying… You're all bullying me!" Theo frowned at them, looking ready to throw a tantrum.

However, before he could get started, the Sanctuary's large door creaked open, and Ron slipped into the room before swiftly shutting the door behind him. All eyes were quickly fixed on him, and as he approached, Daphne couldn't help but stick out her chest a little and put on her best smile. He's been getting help from Madam Pomfrey, and he's been helping Tracey with her recovery! Maybe, at last, he's starting to get better! I should do my best not to pry, though. It's always better to let him go at his own pace, instead of pestering him like his family do-…

"Ron, can you help me here?" Theo spoke first, just as the redhead was passing them by in favour of sitting on the lonely sofa in front of the fireplace instead of sitting with them. "These pricks are trying to steal my Chocolate Frogs from me by disqualifying me! Veto them!" He's not even playing with us, though. You can't just go to him to overturn our decision-…

"Forget about that for a second, I need to talk to you lot," Ron waved a dismissive hand, stopping behind Blaise's sofa so he could see them all. "I just spoke to the Silver Triumvirate, and their little uprising to regain their power is done." What? They all exchanged looks, taken aback. "I'm back in charge, and this time, they'll remember it."

"You're… back in charge?" Daphne muttered, feeling both confused and a little frustrated. "Just like that? Over one conversation?" How? What did you do to them? Are they going to be eating through a straw, now?

"Yes, just like that," Ron shrugged, his expression blank. "Carey will get whatever job suits her fancy within the Wizengamot, where she can familiarize herself with the elite. Clara will work in Crouch's Department, where her appetite for new people and new experiences will be well satisfied. And Samantha will start her apprenticeship at St. Mungo's, where she'll study under the best Healers in Magical Europe. I've all but secured their futures for them, and in payment for my services, all I'm asking for is Slytherin." What about our plan? I know that he doesn't know anything about it, but still… This was our chance to make a name for ourselves…

"You just went and got them jobs?" Daphne asked dully, unable to hide her growing frustrations. We had them handled… We were so close to implementing our plan with the twins. We would have been heroes, but now, none of that can happen. "…Does this mean you'll be coming back, then? And you'll carry on from where you left off?"

"Eventually, yes, that's my plan," Ron replied, studying her posture. "What's wrong? You've gotten all tense, and you don't sound very grateful. Actually, you sound a little annoyed, if I'm being honest."

Daphne drew in a sharp breath, recollecting herself before she said anything that could set him off. "You don't know this, Ron, but we were planning to challenge the Silver Triumvirate ourselves-"

"By using the twins?" Ron interrupted, stopping Daphne short. He knew? How?! Who could've-? Blaise!

"You told him everything, didn't you?" Daphne glared daggers at Blaise, who cocked an eyebrow in response. "Even after I asked you not to, you've been owling him behind our backs!"

"I didn't tell him a damn thing," Blaise scoffed coldly, before looking back towards Ron. "Have you been spying on us? Let me guess… It was the first years, wasn't it? They must've overheard us and told you everything." The first years? Actually, that would make sense… They revere him above all others, it's why they're even listening to us in the first place.

"It doesn't matter how I know," Ron simply said, his eyes fixed solely on Daphne. "I didn't step in for your sakes, I did it for myself. I have plans for Slytherin, and I'm merely protecting my interests." Oh… I see… "However, for the sake of my curiosity, why don't you tell me of this plan with the twins?"

"We were going to ask them to start pranking the Slytherins," Pansy spoke up before Daphne could, looking a little annoyed herself. "We'd give them information vital for more elaborate pranks, and when the Slytherins couldn't take it anymore, we'd volunteer to talk to the twins on behalf of the House. And then-"

"And then, when they would miraculously stop, you would be the saviours of the House… You would be the heroes who saved Slytherin from the nasty twins of Gryffindor, eh?" Ron finished for her, and she gave a curt nod. "That is a really stupid plan."

Daphne cringed visibly, as if he'd smacked her over the head, whereas the others deflated in both size and mood. Ron pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing in a long breath and shaking his head in disappointment.

"Firstly, the twins wouldn't listen to any of you," Ron started, his voice oddly controlled despite his frown. "And, even if they did, they would have no reason to stop once they get started. They would force you to keep feeding them information, threatening to oust you if you disobeyed them. The twins are a lot craftier and sneakier than you give them credit for, and it wouldn't take them thirty seconds to realize that you need them a lot more than they need you. That's the problem with relying on the strength of others, Daphne… You become dependent on their goodwill." Wait… Why am I the only one he's lecturing?! "And the twins… They don't have any goodwill for Slytherins, even if said Slytherins are my friends. They don't prank people for some secret agenda, they do it simply because it's fun. They enjoy the chaos they create, and so, they would never stop once you open that gate for them." Ron then looked straight at Theo, his frown becoming more prominent. "This was your idea, wasn't it? It was either you, or, Blaise. Tell me, which one of you brought this forward?"

"It was Blaise," Theo immediately pointed at the other wizard, who also frowned at him. "What? It was… You brought them up in the library, remember?" Theo… How you manage to strut about without a spine is beyond me…

"I do remember, and I also remember you thinking it was a brilliant idea," Blaise whispered icily, before looking towards Daphne. "You as well, actually-"

"How do you know it was the boys who came up with the idea, and not me and Daphne?" Pansy asked Ron, narrowing her eyes on him. Really, Pansy? Is now a good time to bring up the fact that you think he underestimates you in particular?

"Because you're not as self-serving and cold-blooded as them," Ron answered, surprising them all. "And you're a follower, Pansy. You wouldn't come up with something so criminal, but you wouldn't stand up and say it's wrong, either. You would just go along with it, regardless of what you believe." Pansy was left feeling unsure of what to think, had he complimented her nature, or, insulted it? "I mean, c'mon… You want the twins to make all of your House-mates miserable so that you can 'solve the problem' you created? That was your plan? To abuse and trick your House-mates into respecting you?" Ron then looked to Tracey, as if pleading with her to explain their behaviour. "You see this, Trace? You see why I can't stand being around people, anymore."

"You're making us sound like villains, Ron," Daphne huffed in indignation, reaching the limit of her patience. "You weren't here, all right? You don't know what it's been like-"

"What did the fifth years do to you?" Ron cut in, making her blink. "What about the fourth years? Or, the sixth years? What about the second years? What about my first years? You realize that, for your plan to work, the twins would have to target the Slytherins randomly, right? Otherwise, people would catch on pretty quickly that you're behind this whole mess. Just to stick it to the Triumvirate, you're willing to hurt everyone. I'm not making you sound like the villains, Daphne… You've done that yourself. And, for the record, if you're going to do something shitty, then, at the very least, don't lie to yourself about it." Something shitty?! I'm trying to clean up the mess you made by running off like some coward! I'm protecting my friends! What are you doing except putting us down all the time?!

"He's… not wrong…" Tracey rasped, shooting Daphne a look of utter disbelief. "It's not fair to… the other Slytherins… Daph…"

"I know that, but what other choice do we have?!" Daphne argued; she had to protect her friends, didn't she? "We're being treated like we're nothing! Flint stole our spot from us, and the Triumvirate all but helped him do it! They humiliated us in front of all of Slytherin! Everyone thinks we're a joke without Ron, and we're just trying to change that before it's too late!" Daphne then looked to Ron, who was doing nothing to hide his disappointment in her, which only served to turn her frustrations into fury. "And who are you to lecture us on tormenting our House-mates?! People are terrified of you, Ron, and for good reason! You literally burned Flint's hand like it was chicken-!"

"Let's all calm down here," Theo tried, shooting her a warning look. "There's no need for this to get so heated-"

"Of course, you take his side the moment he shows up," Daphne rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Why am I even surprised?!" He's such a pathetic kiss-arse!

"I'm not taking his side, I'm just not being aggressive-" Theo started, but Ron suddenly clapped his hands, making them all jump in their seats.

"Enough," Ron ordered, before drawing in a deep breath. "Daphne, I'm not trying to-" he stopped, suddenly looking more thoughtful than agitated. "Okay, let's start, again… Clean slate, all right? I shouldn't have called the plan stupid… That was rude, and it's my fault we're fighting instead of discussing this. I'm sorry, you lot, I was out of line. I should be more mindful of how I speak to my friends." Huh? Did he just… apologize? Daphne looked around the room, and unsurprisingly, her friends looked just as shocked as her. "What I meant to say was that this plan will most definitely backfire, and even if it doesn't, this is not the right way to earn respect and admiration. It won't last if it's born from a lie, nor will it make you feel proud of yourselves. It won't change anything for you."

Ron then walked over and stopped by Daphne's side, looking down at her with a calmer, gentler expression. "I know you're just looking out for everyone, Daphne. I didn't mean to imply that you're doing this for your own benefit. I know you've been taking care of my interests in my absence, as you always do. You've no idea how much that means to me, but again, that's my fault… I don't thank you enough, I know…" What is happening?! He's starting to worry me! "And, you're also right about me not being here… I left you lot behind to deal with people I upset. Flint, the Silver Triumvirate, the worst of Slytherin… Most of them can't stand me, a Blood-Traitor, ordering them around, but with me gone, they must've taken their anger out on you. I'm sorry about that as well."

"Ron…" Daphne mumbled, staring up at him with a mixture of disbelief and genuine concern. Where is this coming from? What's wrong?

"Are you dying?" Malfoy finally spoke up, exchanging a perplexed glance with Blaise. "Did you get more bad news regarding your brain-damage?" Oh, no… Don't tell me that's what's going on here…

"No, you spawn of inces-" Ron frowned at Malfoy, but again, he quickly schooled his features. "No, Draco… This has nothing to do with my health. I've been seeing Madam Pomfrey, and she's explained to me that-" he stopped again, thinking. "I haven't been good to you, lately. I've been cold, and, sometimes, even downright cruel. I've been taking my anger out on you because there's just too much of it inside me. It's hurt our friendship to the point where we start fighting whenever we're in the same room, and I don't want that to keep happening. I'm going to figure out a way to control my temper, and you lot are going to start listening to me when I speak." He then looked back to Daphne, giving her a meaningful look. "You're intelligent, you're cunning, you're compassionate, and you're utterly dedicated to your friends. With these qualities, Daph, you don't need to trick people into respecting you. You really don't. You can earn their respect through your own actions. And that respect, believe me, will last you a lifetime. Say what you will about my tactics, but no one can argue the fact that I have respect. People may not like me, but they definitely respect me. You can do even better than that. You can be loved and be respected, but it won't happen if you keep relying on other people. Me, the twins, your father… At some point, you have to be the one putting in the hard work."

Ron then looked to the others, focusing mostly on Pansy, however. "And the same goes for the rest of you. Win House Points. Help the younger students with their problems. Master the Spellwork you're being taught in your classes. Go to the library and study Branches of Magic that aren't being taught in the curriculum. Use your connections to achieve more fame. Put in the hard work, and I promise you, things will begin to change for you. People will respect you, and more importantly, you'll respect yourselves. Isn't that better than throwing yourselves at the mercy of the twins? Isn't that better than hoping no one figures out your deception?"

"That sounds like it would take years, though…" Pansy sighed out, and something clicked in Daphne's head. Years… She's right… That would take so much time, wouldn't it? Is that why I thought it was a good idea to run to the twins for help, despite all the drawbacks? Because it would take less time to yield profit? I know I want to protect my friends, but I also want more than that… I want to be respected… And this was a quick way to get there…

"It will take years, yeah," Ron nodded, he was starting to sound tired. "It took me years, didn't it? We all started in the same place, but you lot never took my words seriously… I begged, and I begged, and I begged, but you always found some way to slack off. You always found some reason to rely solely on my efforts. That's why you're really in this position, despite all other circumstances. If Flint had tried stealing from me, I'd have floored him and all his goons without breaking a sweat, but you can't do that. Not yet, at least. So, yeah, Pansy, you're going to have to toughen up and put in the work. Otherwise, you'll be back here next year, and the year after that, and so on." Ron then drew in another deep breath, exhaling loudly. "This is the last time I will ask any of you to try things my way. I don't want to have this conversation ever again. If you decide that you'd rather play tricks and take shortcuts, then you go ahead and do that. I won't stop you. If you decide to do things my way, the right way, then you know where to find me."

With that, Ron left them to their own devices, heading for the fireplace and taking a seat on the lonely sofa in front of it. The others took the time to study each other's reactions, and Daphne could tell that no one wanted to turn to the twins, now. He may have started off as a prat, but his words do make sense. I want proper respect, and I guess, there are no shortcuts on that path. Still, even though he's taken care of the Triumvirate, Flint is still a problem. He'll be coming for Malfoy sooner rather than later, and we need to be ready for that-…

"Go… talk to him…" Tracey suddenly whispered to Daphne, jerking her head towards the back of Ron's seat. "He really is trying… I promise… Go on…"

Daphne let out a sigh and looked to the others, and they all also jerked their heads in Ron's direction. Knowing that none of them were willing to approach him out of fear of angering him, Daphne tossed her cards onto the table and stood up. I still can't believe he just apologized for his recent behaviour like that. I don't think I could admit my faults so openly in front of a group of people, even if they're my closest friends. And what he said about Madam Pomfrey… I'm so glad he's seeing her, again. She's a miracle worker, she is. Daphne made her way over to the redhead, who was staring into the fire with unfocused eyes, tapping him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked softly, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry I got so defensive about everything, even though you were just trying to give your perspective."

"I made a mockery of your efforts, so it's only natural," Ron looked back to the fire, waving his hand and dragging an empty sofa over. I'll never get used to that. "Sit."

Daphne sat down and stared at him some more, wondering what was going on inside his head right now. "Do you really think the Silver Triumvirate will do as you ask?"

"They didn't want their power back as much as they wanted to hurt me, I reckon," Ron shrugged, sounding bored and even more tired. Why would they want to hurt you? "But don't worry, I've sorted it out. I just had to remind them that they weren't so innocent themselves, and that doing as I say will benefit them far more than defying me will. They are easy to manipulate, even if they try to act like they're not." Right… "Those driven by a hunger for power alone often are."

"And what about Flint?" Daphne asked, following his gaze into the fire. What's he looking at? It's just burning wood… "He's out of control, now. Becoming the Head of his Family has gone straight to his head, and he thinks he's untouchable. He's not driven by a hunger for power, Ron, because he already has it."

"Stupidity and power are a dangerous mixture," Ron whispered, speaking more to himself than her. "Flint will destroy himself before he destroys anyone else."

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"A bully has no friends when he truly needs them," Ron replied, shooting her a quick glance. "The Triumvirate will gather the fifth years, the sixth years, and maybe even some seventh years, and they will all confront Flint. They will order him to stop his bullying of the younger Slytherins, and to focus on earning House Points instead of losing them."

"Is that a good idea?" Daphne blinked. "Ron… He'll go berserk!"

"I know," Ron whispered, using his left hand to gesture her to lower her voice. "He will lash out like some angry Troll, too stupid to realize that his power exists only outside of Hogwarts, and in doing so, he'll turn the whole House against himself. If things get out of hand, then Professor Snape himself will be forced to step in. If not, then the combined strength of the older students will shame Flint publicly." He's setting up both sides to fight?

"And, after all the fighting is done, you'll come in and bring peace back," Daphne figured, and Ron gave a soft nod. And he called us criminal…

"The first years, the second years, and the third years are already loyal to me," Ron reminded her. "I already won leadership of the House through democracy, remember? At the start of February? My rule is legitimate, and I have Professor Snape backing me in his own way. I will come back, I will announce my plans to continue my rule, and the Triumvirate will endorse me. Those who are unhappy with it will be… taken care of." Taken care of? What does that mean?

"You'll hurt them?" Daphne swallowed thickly, not eager to see him in rage ever again.

"The most vocal ones, yes," Ron admitted openly. "Others will be given some semblance of power and control in order to appease their egos. The former delegates, for example, will retain their positions. I will also allow the first years to have delegates, as a matter of fact. They are Slytherins too, and we shouldn't silence them just because they're younger than us. I want Slytherin to be united, for once. We will all benefit more by sticking together instead of constantly undermining each other."

"What about us?" Daphne had to ask. "Where do we fit into the puzzle?"

"You will now be treated the same as anyone in Slytherin," Ron looked to her, his eyes locking onto hers. "No more special privileges. No more special spots to call your own. No more excuses for laziness. If you work hard and prove yourselves, you will be rewarded accordingly. If not, then you will be punished accordingly." I see… "Don't look so bothered, Daphne. I know you'll rise up to the challenge, all of you."

"You didn't think we could the last time we spoke," Daphne pointed out, unable to hide the pain his words had caused. "What's changed?"

"I'm not above making mistakes, I know that," Ron looked back to the fire. "I make them often, and I imagine I will make a few more by the end. Still, I'm sorry for the things I said at St. Mungo's. I was wrong to look down on you just because I felt…" he stopped, letting out a long breath. "…Just because I felt alone and scared… Just because I felt small and insignificant… I let my worst emotions get the best of me, and I can't blame anyone else for that. After all, the only person I can truly control is myself, right? It won't happen again, I promise."

Daphne nodded slowly, feeling greatly soothed by his apology. "Do you want to talk about it? About how you felt? About how you feel right now?"

"No," Ron refused, almost whispering. "Right now, all I want is for you to go have fun with Tracey. She's very lonely in that hospital, and she needs this for her recovery. She needs to feel normal, even if it's for a couple of hours."

"You should come join us, then," Daphne suggested, placing her hand on his forearm, but he promptly withdrew from her. "Ron? What is it?"

"…I want to be alone," Ron whispered distantly, closing his eyes. "I have to practice my Occlumency. Leave me."

Daphne was left a little jarred by how abruptly he had ended their conversation, and the more she stared at his pale face and expressionless features, the more anxious she felt. I want to ask him what's wrong, I want to discuss what my father told me about his dealings with the Centaurs, but it's probably not a good idea… I should just focus on the fact that he's getting help, again. That's all that matter for now.

"Thank you for bringing her here, Ron," Daphne said, rising from her seat. "It means a lot to everyone to see her at Hogwarts, again. It means a lot to me, especially. Thank you."

Ron maintained his silence, and so, Daphne returned to the group, who had already started up another game. As she took her seat, she couldn't help but notice the curiosity behind all their eyes. I'm surprised they weren't eavesdropping. But then again, eavesdropping on Ron sounds like the fastest way to catch a beating of a lifetime…

"Well?" Blaise was the first to address her, shooting a quick glance in Ron's direction. "What did he say? What's our next move?"

"He said nothing about what we should do next," Daphne answered, making Blaise blink. "I know what he wants to do next, but we need to plan for ourselves."

"The twins are off the table, I imagine," Theo sighed out. "…Still think it was a good plan…" Funny that you say that now, once Ron is out of earshot. Self-serving and cold-blooded, wasn't it? It scary how well that description fits.

"The twins are off the table," Daphne decided, and Tracey smiled widely in response. "We'll just have to do things the hard way, I suppose."

"We can start by winning the Ranked Tournaments, I suppose," Pansy suggested, shooting a dark frown at Ron's back. "We can also keep working with the first and second years in order to secure as many House Points as possible. I mean, I doubt any House can catch up to us this late, but you never know."

"You're right, Pans, we'll do that," Daphne agreed, and then, she looked to Malfoy. "Flint is still a problem, though. Do you still think he'll come after you, Malfoy?"

"Probably…" the platinum blonde shrugged, trying to sound as though he wasn't worried.

"Then, we go after him first," Daphne announced, earning herself sceptical looks. "The Silver Triumvirate will be gathering the fifth, sixth, and seventh years against Flint. We'll join them, and we'll bring others with us. The first, second, and fourth years. We'll unite everyone against him. We'll show him that he can't just throw his weight around without consequences. Slytherin is the House of the Cunning, and Flint has none. It's time he learned his place." Getting him back for putting his hands on me will be oh-so-satisfying, no matter what method we use.

"Pansy should talk to the fourth years," Blaise suggested, surprising the Raven-Haired witch. "What? All the fourth-year boys enjoy your company. You flirt with them and make them feel special. If you bat your eyelashes at them, they'll come running."

"I don't flirt with them… that much," Pansy smiled mischievously. "And I always knew you believed in me, Blaise! I will gladly do this for you! Isn't it great that at least one of us is skilled in the art of diplomacy?!"

"Ugh…" Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply as she perked up. "Just be careful, please… The girls might end up Hexing you this time around…"

"I'll talk to the girls," Theo volunteered, smirking. "A few gifts, some kind words, and they'll be putty in my hands." Tracey shot him a deadpan look, and Theo quickly lost his smirk. "Not that I'll do anything with that putty, of course! I'm just trying to help my friends! This is really important work, Trace!"

"Uh-huh…" Tracey shook her head, trying her hardest not to smile. "Prat…"

"Malfoy, you, Blaise, and I will go to the first and second years," Daphne told the platinum blonde, and he gave a simple nod. "Now, deal me in, please. We can worry about Slytherin tomorrow." Right now, let's just enjoy the fact that most of us are in the same room, again.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Friday 23rd April, 1994 (Madam Pomfrey's Office – Late Afternoon)

"I just don't get it…" Ron sighed out, pacing. "I've always had a temper, I know that, but lately, it feels like it's completely out of my control. My friends wanted to stand up for themselves, and even though the idea they came up with wasn't ideal, I made them feel like shit for it. I didn't even mean to, I just got so bloody angry with…" he trailed off, frowning deeply. "Why do they always try and take shortcuts? Why do they always want to rely on other people, first? Is it just in their nature? Is it because of the way they were all raised? I don't know… All I know is that I can't stand it, anymore. It's pathetic… If you want power and respect, then the least you can do is make sure that that power and respect is earned by you, and not someone else."

"You sound very frustrated to me, Ron," Madam Pomfrey chimed in, writing away on a piece of parchment. "Tell me, what made you stop chastising them despite your views? Why did you decide to take a different approach with them?" Because I saw that they wanted to better themselves, and this time, I wasn't there to egg them on. They may have come to the wrong conclusion, but they did genuinely try. "Ron? Speak to me, please."

"I knew they were trying to be better… That they were just trying to stand up for themselves, but when I was telling them off, I saw them… regress… I saw her regress…" Ron stopped pacing, feeling saddened when he remembered how cornered Daphne looked during their argument. "I realized that I was losing control, again, and that if I didn't regain it, I'd just throw them back to where they started from. Like you told me, I haven't been fair to them lately, and I was being unfair all over again. I was letting my feelings get in the way of what they needed to hear." Why do I keep making the same mistakes? Am I just incapable of changing? Is that it?

"Only this time, you caught onto your negative behaviour and found a different solution," Madam Pomfrey smiled, though Ron had no idea why she sounded so pleased. "This is good, Ron. This is progress."

"You call that progress?" I don't feel any different, though.

"I do," she gave a nod. "Everything starts small, but if you keep building upon it, it grows larger and larger, doesn't it? What we're doing here is no different." You've said that before, and here I still am…

"Right…"

"How were your friends after you took on a different tone?" Madam Pomfrey asked, and Ron merely shrugged. "Were they more motivated than before? Were they less motivated? How did you feel yourself?"

"They sounded more motivated, I suppose," Ron started. "I mean, Tracey was there, so it might've just been because of that… But, yes, I think they were more motivated. Daphne and I even had a civil conversation, for a change. She sounded… worried… about me. She even invited me to join them, but I refused. I knew I would fuck things up, again… I would just ruin their night…"

"Why do you believe that?"

"Because I'm a piece of shit…" Ron admitted, he was starting to feel drained by this conversation. "I'm a piece of shit who can't stand anyone enjoying their life…"

"Because you don't enjoy yours?" Madam Pomfrey asked, and Ron gave a weak nod. How fucked up is that? I know I'm projecting my own problems onto others, but I still can't stop doing it.

"I recently ran into an… acquaintance…" Ron all but whispered, scratching the back of his neck. "Her name is Valerie… She's a Veela. She was trying to explain to me that she enjoyed her job, that she enjoyed the attention she got from it, but I… Merlin, Madam Pomfrey, I wanted to fucking hit her… I wanted to break her face in ten different places…"

"What is her occupation?" Madam Pomfrey asked, writing down more notes.

"She's a…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "She entertains men and women… With her… body…" I feel gross even thinking about it.

Madam Pomfrey stared at him, no doubt wondering why he was associating with prostitutes to begin with.

"Why do you think her admitting that she enjoys her work made you so angry?" she asked, instead.

"If I'm being perfectly honest, it was the mere fact that she was happy…" Ron swallowed thickly, catching his reflection in the window and frowning once again. "She sells her body for gold and gifts… She's powerless, and no decent person would ever respect her, but she was happy… She was proud of who she was… Everyone in her place of work is so proud and satisfied… The workers, the clients, the fucking creep who runs the place… Everyone."

"Everyone but you," she added, and Ron nodded to himself.

"Everyone but me." Why does it bother me so much to see someone powerless be content? Jealousy? Envy? Fear? "I lost control there, as well. I wasn't myself in that place… I was-… I was the person I'm terrified of becoming…"

"How did your interaction with Valerie end?"

"I walked off before I did something stupid," Ron replied. "I got away from that place as quickly as I could."

"Why were you in such a place to begin with, Ron?"

"A powerful Lord runs that brothel, and I needed his help," Ron answered, deciding that he had spoken enough about it. "I got my way, of course, but the anger never left. It's still in me, and it keeps trying to get out. My parents, my friends, everyone in my life… I'm scared I'm going to end up hurting them all if I don't find a way to control myself, but no matter how hard I try, I always come up short…" Ron then looked back to her, feeling doubt creep into his soul. "…Madam Pomfrey… Is it possible for a person to be incapable of change? Maybe, I'll be like this forever… Maybe, I'll keep doing things I later come to regret for the rest of my life…"

Madam Pomfrey studied him in silence, before jotting down more notes. "Everyone can change, Ron, even you. It's never easy, and you're bound to make the same mistakes over and over again, but if you keep trying, you will change. It won't happen overnight, nor will it happen when you think it should, but it will happen. And, for what it's worth, I know you're trying your best."

"Am I?" he didn't believe that.

"Ron, you gave up your Calming Draughts and haven't looked back since," Madam Pomfrey smiled encouragingly. "You don't realize how difficult it is to fight addiction for most people. I have lost many patients, even some friends, to it. But you? Your willpower is something even I've grown to admire." She's just trying to make me feel better, isn't she?

"I still think about taking them, though… I think about it often…"

"But you don't," she pointed out. "You resist the urge because you want to change. You want to get better. That's not someone who is incapable of change, Ron, that's someone who is already changing." Really?

"Okay…"

Madam Pomfrey then looked back to her notes, reading through them. "Also, I'm seeing a pattern here regarding your loss of control over your emotions as of late. A common side-effect of abusing the Calming Draught is an inability to regulate one's emotions properly, both positive and negative. We discussed this some time ago, remember?" Ron cringed internally, before giving a small nod. "Your feelings of great sadness whenever you're alone, your inability to control your anger in the face of Valerie's words, even the fact that you went from wanting to punish your friends to becoming disillusioned with yourself within minutes, seems to stem from your recent abuse of the Calming Draught. At least, that is my theory as of right now."

"So… I'm fucked, then?" Ron managed, feeling like the world's biggest idiot. "I've done more permanent damage to myself?" I really am my worst enemy, aren't I?

"No, this won't be permanent," she assured him, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Over time, you will find it easier to regulate your emotions in a healthy way. However, I will also take this chance to remind you that the Calming Draught is a very dangerous potion. It is not meant to be used the way you used it, Ron, and it's important for your recovery that you continue to practice restraint."

"I will, I promise," Ron quickly agreed.

"I believe you," Madam Pomfrey smiled again, looking towards the clock. "I hate to cut our session short, Ron, but classes are almost over-"

"I understand," Ron interjected, managing a half-smile. "Thank you for talking to me, again. I know I keep dropping by unannounced-"

"You can come to me whenever you need to," she said firmly, giving him a meaningful look. "My door is always open to you."

"…Thanks…" Ron didn't know what else to say. "I'll be on my way, then."

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Madam Pomfrey asked, tucking her notes away into her desk. "More training, I assume?"

"Actually, I'm going to take a nap," Ron replied, and she swiftly turned and stared at him in disbelief. "What? What's with that nasty look? I'm capable of relaxing too!" Yeah, she's not buying it. "…Fine… I have to take a Portkey later tonight, and it's easier to do that when I'm well-rested…"

"And all is right in the world, again," Madam Pomfrey chuckled.

"I hope someone throws up on you, today."

---

Friday 23rd April, 1994 (The Lonely Lighthouse – Night)

"You really live here?" Ron asked Abadie, whilst admiring the view past the railing. "In a creepy lighthouse overlooking the sea? All alone in the middle of nowhere?"

"Don't judge it until you try it, Ronald," Abadie simply said, chuckling.

"Oh, I'm not judging at all," Ron breathed in the ocean air, smiling. "I like it. It's peaceful here. No people, no problems, no end. Just a gorgeous view, and only your own thoughts to keep you company." Shame I can't see the ocean properly, though. It's too dark out there.

"I hope you can appreciate how challenging it is for me to share this place with you," Abadie said, and Ron turned to face him. "Only my most trusted guards know of where I sleep, no one else."

"And the High Mother," Ron pointed out.

"Yes, and the High Mother," Abadi said, shooting a look towards the white-clothed table he had prepared for Ron and the Queen of all Veela-Kind. "This is my sanctuary from the world, Ronald, and if you ever need it, it can be yours as well." He really means that, doesn't he? Merlin, what a strange bloke…

"I don't think anyone's ever tried this hard to become my friend," Ron studied the Veela, unsure of what to do with him. "You're starting to win me over, Abadie, and so, I promise I won't abuse the trust you're putting in me now. This place, as far as I'm concerned, doesn't exist once this dinner is over. I won't share knowledge of it with anyone, not even my bodyguard."

"Thank you," Abadie 'smiled', as if trying his hardest to show his appreciation. "Where is he, if you don't mind me asking?" Waiting for Luka Yahontov to get his shit together. Only Merlin knows why it's taking that stupid cunt so long, though. "Ronald?"

"I didn't want to bring him here," Ron replied, leaning against the railing. "I want to be alone with the High Mother. She and I have a lot to discuss, and I don't want there to be any distractions."

"And what will you be discussing?" Abadie asked, no doubt very curious. "I still don't understand how you convinced her to do this after disrespecting her in her own palace."

"I didn't disrespect her, Abadie," Ron started, grinning. "I spoke to her as an equal, something that I could tell she sorely needed. Believe me, it gets lonely at the top, and the way you all treat her… I'd go mad in her shoes." Abadie waited for him to elaborate, making Ron chuckle. He really doesn't get it, does he? "She's bored, mate! She hates that palace of hers and all the boot-lickers in it! She just needed an excuse to have a night away from her life, and I gave it to her! People, even two-hundred-year-old Veela, want what they can't have! That's how I convinced her, and it was easy!" Well, sort of easy… For a moment, I was certain that I had fucked it up, but he doesn't need to know that.

"I don't know if you're overly brave, or, just insane," Abadie commented, and Ron simply shrugged in response. "A bit of both, then?"

"A bit of both."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Ron sat alone atop the lighthouse, patiently waiting for his 'date' to arrive. Where is that woman? Abadie said she'd be here 'any minute now' before he left, and that was thirty fucking minutes ago! Talk about poor manners! He drew in a deep breath, allowing the smell and sounds of the ocean to fill his head and push out his growing ill feelings. It's okay… She'll be here. I just need to be patient and maintain my focus, that's all. There's no use in stressing myself over nothing-…

Ron suddenly sensed a presence approaching him from below, and he promptly stood up and moved behind his chair. Let's get a sense of her Magic, actually. It might come in handy. Focusing his mind on the approaching presence, Ron found himself surprised when he couldn't quite understand what he was feeling. The presence felt warm like a cup of hot chocolate, but also cold like winter's first breath. It felt as strong as an ox, and yet, as fragile as a kitten. It felt like being hugged by the girl he still loved above all others, but it also felt like being slapped by his most bitter enemy. What the fuck…? Ron shivered, there was something very unnatural about the High Mother's Magic, and it instantly put him on guard. Guess I'm not the only freak of nature walking around. I need to be very careful with this woman, especially tonight.

The High Mother stepped out into the night with a pleasant smile gracing her flawless, moon-bright face, her white, shimmering, mermaid dress giving her the appearance of a Being akin to the Elders themselves. A Being far too beautiful to be anywhere near the hideous monster she was dining with tonight. Despite appearing outwardly confident, Ron felt his breath hitch when she turned her piercing gaze in his direction, her smile growing more familiar when she noticed his blush. Bloody hell… She really went all out tonight, eh? I have to focus! This is just another tactic of hers! Stay in control, old boy!

"I've never regretted being born too late before," Ron put on his best smile, moving around the table and taking her hand in his. "You look more beautiful than ever, High Mother. Freedom from that Ivory Court of yours suits you." Is it wrong that I liked her previous dress better? Yeah, probably…

"You can be most charming when you want, can't you, dearest Ronald?" she laughed lightly, pinching his cheek right after he kissed her knuckles. Okay… "You look so dashing in that coat! I could just eat you up!"

"I'd give you a terrible stomach ache, I'm afraid," Ron sniggered, guiding her to her seat. "Thank you for joining me. I was beginning to worry that you weren't going to come."

"Oh, I nearly didn't," she admitted as he took his own seat. "The Oracles tried to forbid me! Thy couldn't see you, no matter how hard they tried, but that only made me want this all the more!" Oracles? I remember her mentioning them before. She didn't sound very fond of them then, and she doesn't now. "You are simply too intriguing to ignore!"

"Who are these Oracles, exactly?" Ron asked, uncorking the bottle of wine as Abadie had instructed. Now, let's let that 'breathe'. "And what do you mean by 'they couldn't see me'?"

"They are a relic of a bygone age, but for tradition's sake, I'm forced to keep them around and listen to their drivel," the High Mother answered, studying him meticulously. "In truth, they are simply Seers. Nothing special." Seers are nothing special? "My predecessors believed that having the Sight on their side would prolong their rule. The Prophecies spat out by these leeches made them feel safe, and so, they were favoured above all others."

"But not by you?" Ron asked, curious. "Don't rulers usually like to know what could go wrong next?"

"I like to be surprised," she chuckled, making him even more curious. "Knowledge is a dangerous weapon, Ronald. A very dangerous weapon. It can help you destroy any enemy, but if you're not careful, it can destroy you just as easily." You're really not going to enjoy how this night ends, then.

"Does the future frighten you?" Ron asked, his smile turning coy.

"Doesn't it frighten you?" she asked in response.

"It does, but that fear can be a powerful weapon in its own right," Ron answered, making her laugh, again.

"You strange, strange boy! With every word, you somehow make me more interested in you!"

"It's a gift," Ron shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "And a curse."

"A Curse? Why do you say that?" she asked, tilting her head a little.

"Because once people see behind the curtain, they shit themselves," Ron replied, he was rather eager to see her reaction, now. "They are left changed and scarred, no matter how powerful their mind."

"Is that a promise?" she goaded, looking at him as if he were a present to be unwrapped.

"It is," he gave a nod, before brandishing his wand and undoing the Disillusionment Charm on the Pensieve to his left. "Abadie went above and beyond to make this night special for us."

"I should reward him the next time I see him, then," she eyed the Pensieve hungrily.

"You should," Ron agreed. "Though, you might not want to after you take a dip in my memories. You might even curse the day you set eyes on us both, actually."

"You shouldn't tease a woman so much on the first date, Ronald," she tutted, looking back to him. "It could get you into serious trouble with her, after all." Oh, the trouble is coming, but not for me. It already chewed me up and spat me back out. It's your turn, now.

"What if I like trouble?" he asked, grinning. "What if I was built for it?"

"Then, by all means, continue teasing," she laughed, fighting the urge to pinch his cheeks red.

"Let's eat, first," Ron suggested, wondering if she would throw up after seeing his memories. Now, that'll be hilarious! I can't wait! "I don't want Abadie's efforts to go to waste."

---

One Hour Later

"You weren't completely honest with me," Ron pointed out, watching her enjoy her dessert. I still can't believe her favourite dessert is a simple slice of vanilla cake. That's just so… ordinary…

"About what, dearest?" the High Mother asked, smiling back at him.

"You told me that Veela fall in love only once," Ron started, ignoring his own dessert. "But I've been reading up on you lot. Doing my research, as some would call it. There are records of Veela marrying more than once, especially if their partners die young. Some even claim to have met more than one mate in their lifetime."

"Is that so?" she all but whispered, putting down her spoon.

"It is," Ron's smile grew cheeky, he could see that he had somewhat annoyed her just now. "I also learned something else, actually. The real reason behind why most Veela are so adamant about breeding with Wizarding-Kind." They want to stop being slaves to their instincts like their 'Pure-Blooded' counterparts. They don't want to be 'relics of a bygone age'.

"Yes, I've heard all the theories," the High Mother scoffed and shook her head, as if amused by the mere thought of said theories. "They do it to strengthen their Magic, to become stronger than their ancestors. Or, they do it to weaken the Veela inside them, so that their instincts and urges are dulled by reason and logic. I've heard it all, Ronald, and I've learned to ignore it all."

"Why? Isn't it a good thing that modern Veela are a lot more in control of themselves than those who came before?" Ron asked, he couldn't understand why anyone would want to lose control under any circumstance. "I mean, as romantic as it sounds, doesn't it bother you that you'll never fall in love, again? Doesn't it bother you that your people can wither away because of a simple rejection?"

"We are not so easily rejected," she reminded him, even more amused. "Ninety-nine Veela out of a hundred snare the mate they desire. The pleasures we can bring are beyond the understanding of most people. With a simple smile, we can turn the fiercest warrior into our thrall. What do you think happens when we remove our clothes?" A lot of jaws hit the floor? "What do you think happens when we're on top of you?" All right, ease up there, lady.

"True enough…" Ron couldn't deny the facts, even if they made him uncomfortable.

"And are 'modern Veela' in control of themselves?" the High Mother asked him. "Do you truly believe that? The ones who bombarded a child with their allures were all 'modern Veela', were they not? They made a sport out of your suffering, did they not? I will not deny that a Pure-Blooded Veela, such as myself, is more prone to her baser instincts, but these Half-Bloods? These Quarter-Bloods? They can be just as territorial and vicious, regardless of what some wizard theorist claims. The only true difference between us is that the Wizarding-Blood in their veins compels them to dominate others, even Veela-Kind. It's why they're all obsessed with becoming Lords and Ladies of Magical France. It's why they infiltrate any Ministry foolish enough to host them. It's why they use their allures to dominate and control others, instead of bringing them comfort and euphoria. They have no control over their Wizarding half, nor do they have any control over their Veela half. They are driven by both passion and ambition in equal measure, that's their new instinct, and it's a lot more dangerous than they care to admit."

"So, they traded in one instinct for another?" Ron asked, and she gave a solemn nod. Does she not believe in free-will? That we can be whatever we choose to be? That what it sounds like to me, at least.

"The Goddess made us all imperfect, Ronald," the High Mother told him, looking up at the stars above. "Goblins are driven by their unending greed for precious metals and gems, so they rape the Earth with reckless abandon. Wizards and witches are driven by an insatiable compulsion to rule over all others, especially their own. Merpeople are driven by their ingrained fixation of colonizing every significant body of water, believing it to be their rightful property regardless of what anyone else has to say. Centaurs are driven by their obsession with the stars, with forces they believe the rest of us can't even begin to fathom, and this obsession has destroyed and scattered their people. And as for us Veela… We are driven by our overwhelming passion, for both life and the many pleasures it offers. So much so that we can become lost in that passion, and destroy all that we hold dear in the process."

"So, we're all just animals, then?" Ron asked, nodding along. She has a way with words, I'll give her that. "We're all just driven by our instincts?"

"Yes, that's exactly what we are, and yes, that's exactly why we do the things we do," she replied, smiling fondly at him. "And there is no shame in that, not one bit! Goblins create the most beautiful art, the sharpest weapons, the sturdiest armours, and the most enchanting jewellery from the treasures they find deep within the Earth! Wizards and witches have pushed the limits of Magic beyond all others as a result of their conquests, creating wonders too glorious and terrifying to behold! Merpeople persevere no matter what the outside world throws at them, because they are one people, one community, regardless of whichever kingdom they descend from! Centaurs can look up at the stars and chart your whole life, but they have the wisdom to not burden even their worst enemies with such knowledge! And we Veela bring grace and beauty wherever we tread, and when we love, we do it with every fibre of our being!" Ron couldn't help but smile back a little, she had a unique perspective on life that he found quite endearing. "This is why I ignore these theories, dearest, because they come from those who want you to believe they have bested their own nature… Their own species. In my experience, in all my time studying the history of our shared world, I have never come across anyone who wasn't driven by some innate instinct found predominantly in their species." She could debate the old man to a draw, if I'm being honest. Everything she says comes right from her heart.

"I can see a lot of merit behind your words," Ron admitted, thinking about all he had learned of the world since starting at Hogwarts. "The greediest person I know happens to be a Goblin. Wizarding-Kind is always finding reasons to rip away the freedoms of others. I haven't met any Merpeople, but the one Centaur I did meet was indeed wise. And as for Veela… You lot certainly live for passion, even if it's at the expense of everything else."

"And yet?" she leaned forward, eager to hear his perspective.

"And yet, I believe that we can rise above our innate instincts," Ron replied, smiling more fully. "I believe people aren't just their nature, but also their experiences and choices. I mean, just look at me. I'm a Blood-Traitor who comes from nothing, and yet, I'm dining with a Queen tonight." The High Mother beamed, her skin glowing under the moonlight. "I'm also a wizard, but I don't think that makes me better than anyone. When I think about what my kind has done to this world, to the Elves and the Fae, it breaks my heart… It really does." Ron then slowly lost his smile, thinking about the nature of his darker half. "And, even though I'm the son of the Void, I don't feel the urge to destroy this Universe and all life in it." The High Mother slowly lost her smile as well, blinking repeatedly. "Instead, I'd give my life at any moment if it secured this Universe's future. Your future. I wouldn't hesitate for even a second."

"…I don't understand," she leaned back, eyeing him as if he were mental. "Is this meant to be a joke? The son of the Void? What is that?"

Ron looked to the Pensieve, feeling genuinely let down because their dinner had come to its inevitable end. You know what? I'm going to make sure I walk her through everything as gently as I can. I think I'm really starting to like her. She's been nothing but kind to me, especially tonight.

"Ronald?"

"Do you know how to view memories? If I focus on them, could you extract them for me?" Ron asked, and she gave a curt nod. "Right… Last chance to turn back, then."

"Do you think I should?" she asked, looking tense due to his sudden change in demeanour.

"This will hurt you more than it will help you," Ron told her the truth. "I know you're an inquisitive woman, but you weren't wrong when you said that knowledge can destroy a person. If you decide to walk away, now, I won't stop you." I still have other allies. I'll just make do with them.

"What's changed?" the High Mother asked, still thinking about what he had said earlier about the Void. "You were quite eager to let me peek behind the curtain before. Why are you suddenly being hesitant, now?"

"Because… I enjoyed tonight a lot more than I thought I would…" Ron averted his gaze a little, feeling his cheeks flush. "I thought your kindness was simply a façade to mask your true nature, but now, I know it's not. You can be ruthless to your enemies, sure, but I think, you are kind to all children. And kindness is… Well, it's a rarity in my life… In this world… I'm being hesitant now because I'm scared showing you the truth will destroy that kindness, just as it destroyed the kindness within me." Even the old man has become more ruthless because of my involvement in his life, and he's as kind as they come. Only Merlin knows what she'll turn into the more she dwells on what I show her.

The High Mother studied his face with a serious expression, before eventually rising to her feet. "You truly believe that we can rise above our innate instincts?" Huh? I mean, I know I can, at the very least.

"Um… Yes, I do," Ron looked up, and the affectionate, motherly smile on her face made him all the more hesitant.

"Then, give me the chance to test your words." Damn… She made her choice long before she came here, didn't she? All right, here we go…

"Very well, then. Let's get started, shall we?"

---

"Where are we?" the High Mother asked, standing by his side within an empty, black space. "What is this, Ronald?"

"This is the day I turned eight, the day my life changed for the worst," Ron replied, studying the emptiness all around them. "We're meant to be in my home, but I forgot that it's under the Fidelius Charm. Still, I reckon, you should be able to see me, even if you can't see the inside of the house."

As if on cue, an eight-year-old boy ran past them, a bright smile plastered across his pale, freckled face. There you are, you little cunt. He stopped a couple of feet in front of them, his back facing them as he excitedly asked his siblings if he could help them clean up. Fred's voice, which was more high-pitched than Ron remembered, refused the small boy, reminding him that it was his birthday, but the boy continued to insist until he was allowed to help.

"That's really you?" the High Mother's eyes lit up, watching his younger-self clean up an invisible table. "Oh, bless my heart! You beautiful boy! I could stare that happy smile all day!"

Ron, however, fought the urge to sneer at the boy, for he knew that this thing before him would grow up to be anything but beautiful. Fucking monster.

"Just watch," Ron whispered, staring ahead with a blank expression.

"What are we waiting for?" she asked, looking back to him. "Ronald? What's the matter?"

Ron said nothing in response, simply waiting until the small boy suddenly dropped the plates in his hands. "It is here… It is coming for me… Watch."

"What's coming for-?" the High Mother started, but stopped abruptly with a yelp when the boy started to scream. "Ronald?!"

The small boy fell to his knees, screaming his heart out, tearing at his hair in a pointless effort to make the pain stop, but it only grew worse and worse. The High Mother watched on in horror, jumping a little when the sound of kitchenware exploding erupted around them. Ron took the time to study her as subtly as he could, and it was clear to him that watching a child scream in agony physically pained her. She's definitely not going to like the next memory, then.

"Ronnie?!" came Molly's voice, and Ron looked back to the boy.

As soon as Molly held onto her youngest son, she too became visible within the memory. Ron raised an eyebrow when he witnessed just how terrified she looked and sounded, hugging the helpless boy as close to her as possible and screaming for her husband. You can't help him. He's not even worth it, to be honest. The sheer misery he'll bring upon you… You'll wish he had died in your arms on his eighth birthday. Eventually, the boy's screams came to an end, and he became limp in his mother's arms, even as she continued to scream out his name over and over again.

"This was the first time I felt real pain," Ron told the High Mother, who turned to him with horror written across her entire being. "This was the day I became cursed with knowledge no mortal should possess."

The memory came to an end, and they were both pulled out of the Pensieve and returned to the lighthouse. The High Mother now stood across from him, her brow furrowed as she stared into his empty eyes. One down. Three to go.

"I don't understand," the High Mother broke her silence. "I thought you were going to show me proof of the Dark Lord's continued existence… I thought you were going to show me the secret power behind the Sacred Tree-"

"That's the plan, but first, I needed you to understand what put me on this path," Ron interjected, using his Aspen wand to guide his memory back into his mind. "That was no mere migraine, even if that's what it looked like. That was my first contact with an entity not of this world."

"An entity not of this world?" she repeated, visibly taken aback.

"It showed me the future," Ron continued. "It showed me the death of my brother, Fred. And since then, it has shown me the deaths of many others." Ron then offered her his wand, and when she reluctantly took it, he tapped his temple. "Now, I'll show you the reason why this entity is here, on this Earth, in the first place. I'll show you Lord Voldemort."

---

"Where are we, now?" the High Mother asked, both of them standing within a dimly lit chamber. "Oh, more children… Wait, that's you, again. And who's with you?"

"That's Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom," Ron pointed them out respectively. "They're Harry Potter's closest friends."

"The-Boy-Who-Lived?" the High Mother raised an eyebrow, and he gave a nod.

"He's currently beyond that black flame over there," Ron told her, gesturing her to follow him. "The Headmaster had hatched a plan to trap his old enemy within Hogwarts, and then, to confront him, but his plan was ruined by four meddling children. Lord Voldemort escaped, but not before he tried to possess me."

"Possess you?" the High Mother blanched. "And, please, do not speak his name so openly close to me… Do not disrespect the thousands who were drowned by his mad ambitions. Many of them were my friends, my people." Fair enough. "Now, explain to me why hewould attempt to possess a child? What did he have to gain by it?"

"He didn't have a physical form at the time," Ron replied, coming to a stop behind his younger-self. Hello, again, cunt. "Possessing me would have allowed him to use more of his Magic in his escape from Hogwarts, but the entity I mentioned before attempted to kill us both. It's after him, and when he was inside me, it saw an opportunity to get rid of us both in a single move." Ron then let out a cold chuckle, looking down at his unsuspecting younger-self. "It hates me just as much as it hates the Dark Lord, so I can only imagine how excited it must've been when it had us both in its grasp at the same time. The Dark Lord had no idea that he would be sharing my body with a monster beyond even his comprehension."

"…Are you saying that this-?" she paused, studying him with growing dread. "…You are possessed by this Being from the stars? It lives within you?"

"Terrifying, isn't it?" Ron looked to her, tapping his forehead harshly. "The things it's done to me… You can't even begin to imagine. The endless torture. The endless misery. The endless humiliation. It gave me the power to save others, but it took my life from me as recompense." Ron then smiled; he didn't want to disturb her any more than he already had. "Don't worry, I gave just as good as I got, and now, it's my prisoner. Now, I can torture it whenever it suits my fancy-"

Howls of agony and rage suddenly filled the room, and they both looked to see a wraith burst into the room. The High Mother audibly gasped, taking a step back and covering her mouth before she could scream at the mere sight of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"It's okay," Ron moved to her side, placing his gloved hand on her lower back. "Steel yourself, because things are about to get a lot worse."

His younger-self brandished his wand while Neville and Hermione screamed in terror, firing a Blasting Curse at the wraith, but unfortunately, the spirit of the Lord Voldemort easily outmanoeuvred the Curse, flying straight into the boy's chest. The High Mother drew in a sharp breath as the boy fell onto his back, screaming in pain as the Protection Ring on his finger turned red hot and melted, before suddenly falling unconscious. Hermione and Neville were quick to kneel down beside him, calling out his name and shaking him in the hopes of waking him up.

"It's true, then… He still lives…" the High Mother suddenly muttered, and Ron looked to her. "…Goddess protect us all…" Should I tell her about Fate? Should I tell just how little the 'Goddess' cares for her and her people? No, I don't think that'd be a good idea… There's no point in hurting her faith in a higher power, especially if it can provide her with some comfort going forward.

The body of his younger-self suddenly jerked, causing both Hermione and Neville to fall back onto their arse. Slowly, Hermione went to reach for her friend again, but just as she drew near, the boy's left arm was snapped in two by some invisible force, his elbow bending unnaturally in the opposite direction. Hermione and Neville screamed again, whereas the High Mother's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. His legs were next, shattering in multiple places so loudly that the High Mother covered her ears, but the mutilation had only just begun. His arms, his legs, even his torso, began to contort and twist, as if he were being crushed like a grape. Tendril-like bruises began to appear on his pale, freckled face, crawling all the way up into his red hair. Blood began to seep out of his clothes, mouth, and nose, before his right cheekbone suddenly collapsed into his face from the pressure. Justice… All the pain you've caused… You deserve nothing less in return!

Ron smiled softly, watching with great interest as blood pooled around the boy's mangled body. He could hear the High Mother praying to her Goddess for mercy, trying her hardest to stomach what she was witnessing but failing nonetheless, and yet, he himself could not muster up even an iota of sympathy for the wretch lying bloodied at his feet. Ron knew every single one of this boy's many crimes, he knew of the terrible monster this freak of nature would grow up to be, and so, it brought him great satisfaction knowing that this little bastard would frequently get his just desserts. You wait until you catch up to me, you piece of shit. Your pain has only just begun!

The wraith suddenly emerged from the boy's chest, wailing as it stared down at the Entity's handiwork, ignoring the screams of the other two children as it flew off in haste. The High Mother, out of sheer instinct, dove out of the Dark Lord's way, finally shielding her eyes from it all. Ron wasted no time in moving to her side, taking her by the shoulders and helping her rise to her feet.

"There's still more to see-" he began, but stopped when she turned her back on his younger-self.

"No more… Please, no more," she managed, before abruptly vanishing. She must've pulled herself out of the memory. Well, there's no point in me lingering about either, then.

Focusing his mind, Ron withdrew from the Pensieve, finding himself atop the lighthouse once again. To his surprise, the High Mother wasn't standing across from him, instead she was seated at the table, a mixture of dread and sorrow marring her moon-bright features. Without a word, Ron walked over and poured some more wine into her wineglass, offering it to her in place of an apology. Just two more to go. We can't stop, now.

She stared at the wineglass, at the red liquid within, before her eyes dragged themselves up to see his pale, freckled face. Sorrow overtook dread completely, and her eyes filled up with glistening tears. Here comes the unnecessary pity.

"…You poor, poor boy…" she swallowed thickly, taking his spare hand in hers. "Ronald-… I-… Goddess…" Lost for words?

"You shouldn't pity me," Ron said softly, both as a warning and as advice. "I've done terrible things myself, and I've enjoyed every second of it. Those who relish in inflicting pain upon others deserve to have pain inflicted back upon them. That boy in those memories got exactly what he deserved, and because of that, he continues to make sure others like him also get what they deserve." Ron then smiled encouragingly, but she withdrew from him out of fear. "All that pain helped me realize what true justice is, and I'm going to expose the Dark Lord and all his followers to it. They too will learn through suffering, just as I have."

The High Mother just stared at him, her face losing all its blood as her mouth hung open, her tears sliding down her porcelain cheeks. Ron put the wineglass down, pulling out his black handkerchief and offering it to her. She accepted it with shaking hands, her eyes never leaving his for even a single moment.

"I'm sorry for ending our dinner like this," Ron apologized, it brought him no pleasure to see her this way. "However, this was your choice, and we still have two more memories to watch."

"…I don't want to see them, anymore…" she drew in a long breath, no doubt trying to recollect herself. "I don't care enough about the Sacred Tree's secrets to watch you suffer for it, not after…" she trailed off, wiping away her tears. "You're wrong, Ronald… So very wrong… No child, under any circumstance, deserves to suffer like that… You-… You were only eight… Your hands and feet were so small, and you-" she averted her gaze, drawing in another long breath. "Whatever Demon forced you onto this path, it must be removed from you before it's too late. It must be exorcised-"

"That would kill me," Ron cut in, and she let out a sorry sob. "And after I show you my final memory, you'll understand why it's necessary for me remain on this path. You, your people, all people… You need me to be what I've become."

"My people…? All people?" she asked slowly, looking back up. "What is this 'final memory' you speak of?"

"You won't believe it until you see it," Ron offered her his gloved hand, but instead of taking it, she instead stared at it. "Please, we have to finish what we've started. The point of no return is long past."

She hesitantly reached forward, and much to his shock, she began to remove his glove. Ron physically fought the urge to rip his hand away from her, tensing up from his toes to his skull. The cool air bit into his hand oh-so suddenly, leaving him feeling exposed to the entire world. What the hell is she doing? The High Mother studied his hideously scarred hand, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. She then took him by the wrist and began pulling back his sleeve, only to stop when she felt his Goblin-Steel bracers beneath his clothes. Enough of this.

"Don't torture yourself needlessly," Ron advised, gently withdrawing his hand from hers. "Please, return my glove to me. I don't like to be without it." She lifted it from her lap and offered it to him, and within a second, he had it back on. That's better. Complete, again. "Come, let's just watch the final memory I wish to show you. It's getting cold, and I don't want to see you suffer any more than you have to."

"Have to?" she blinked, and Ron smiled apologetically.

"You're a killer, aren't you?" Ron asked her in his gentlest voice. "You are kind to me, to all children perhaps, and everything you do is to better protect your people. However, you also enjoy killing, just as I do, it's why you're so good at it." Ron's eyes flashed red as he offered her his gloved hand, again. "Justice is not blind, and it must always have it's due." You had your chance to walk away, but you made your choice. You will now watch that memory even if I have to force you to do it.

The High Mother once again stared into those empty eyes of his, fearing that they would consume her very soul if she dared to refuse him.

"…I understand," she agreed, taking his hand and rising to her feet.

"Being haunted by the truth for the rest of your life will be your penance. I hope you never sleep peacefully ever again, and that you spend the rest of your life wishing you'd never met me."

---

They stood side-by-side, staring up at the fiery-orange sky. Neither of them had spoken a word since entering this memory, because no words needed to be spoken. The ruins of a once prosperous civilization did all the talking for Ron, and the High Mother listened even as all life fled from her eyes. I should say something, though. Make sure that she understands what's going on here.

"I'm sorry," Ron started by apologizing, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"…Sorry?" she whispered, tearing her eyes away from the sky.

"You mentioned that you don't like to know what comes next, remember?" Ron reminded her, and she nodded absentmindedly. "Well, this is what comes next. This is how it ends for everyone. Muggles. Wizards. Veela. None of us survive… We all burn together."

The High Mother muttered something in French, her legs turning to jelly and bringing her to her knees. Shit! Ron quickly kneeled down and put his arm around her shoulders, keeping her upright. She's taking this even harder than I thought she would. Have I pushed her too far too quickly? Well, no use in crying over spilled milk. She chose this, didn't she?

"…Non…" she whispered to herself, releasing a shaky breath. "…Cela doit être un mensonge…" Damn, what is she saying? I don't understand.

"If you're having doubts about whether this is real, or, not, then just roam around for a while," Ron suggested, taking a guess. "Look at the buildings, the streets, the sky… No one can fabricate a memory such as this one. And, if none of that is enough for you, then remember what the memory looked like before it was dropped into the Pensieve. Was it like anything you've witnessed before?"

"…The entity from the stars showed you this?" the High Mother asked, rising to her feet once again with his help. No. Something even worse showed me this. "Is this why it's after the Dark Lord? Goddess, that would suggest that…" she trailed off, her eyes widening from the implication. "…He did this…?"

"You catch on quickly," Ron gave a nod, looking down the desolate street. "Eventually, he gets tired of people fighting back against his rule, and so, he destroys everyone and everything."

"…How could the Oracles not foresee this?" the High Mother muttered, shaking her head.

"Because this future isn't set in stone just yet," Ron shrugged, trying to think of an explanation. The Horned Serpents were clearly stronger than these Oracles, unless the Oracles have seen this and refuse to share it with anyone. I need to meet with them. Find out what they know.

"Not set in stone? We can still stop this from happening?" she asked, clutching onto his arm.

"Not we… Just me," Ron answered, making her blink. "Your choices are definitely your own, but all those choices are known and cannot be changed. I, however, don't exist in the Tapestry of Time as the rest of you do. I am an anomaly, an unknown variable. This gives me the unique ability to change the future, to influence those around me and change their choices as a result. For example, your destiny was to remain oblivious to this future, but I've now changed that. Now, you will act with this knowledge at the forefront of your mind, and because of that, you will make different choices from the original timeline. This future, to my knowledge, has already been altered significantly through my actions in this particular timeline. This is a future that does not exist, but rather, could exist. Do you understand?"

She just stared at him, and it was clear that she was now struggling to keep up. There's just too much that she doesn't know, and I'd rather keep those details to myself. She has to believe that her future, her people's future, rests solely on my shoulders. She has to understand that serving me is the only way to survive. I am the Champion of this Universe, and even the Queen of all Veela has to answer to me.

"I will save us all from this, I swear it," Ron said firmly, taking her spare hand in his. "But I can't do it without proper resources, without proper support. I didn't come to your mountain to see its many wonders; I came to secure your allegiance. The Dark Lord will soon return to wage war upon the Wizarding World, but unlike last time, he will find all those who despise him standing against him as one people, regardless of their origin. I want the Veela to join this great army too. I want you to join me."

"And if we do, you will lead this 'great army' yourself?" the High Mother asked, contemplating his proposal. "Not Dumbledore? Not your Ministry?"

"The Headmaster and the Ministry will have their roles to play, same as you, but I'll be the one running the show," Ron replied, his eyes flashing red. "You have all had your chance to build a better world, and you have all failed. Now, it's my turn, and I will not." Ron then let her go, taking a step back. "You can either be a part of my new world, or, you can burn in your old one. If Veela-Kind abandon this call-to-arms, then Veela-Kind will be abandoned in return." You want my help, then you have to earn it. Otherwise, you and all your people can go get fucked for all I care. I'll figure out a way to close my heart to your suffering, have no doubts about that.

"Not exactly a saviour from the stories, are you?" she let out a shaky breath, realizing that he really would let them die if he were denied.

"I tried to be one once," Ron remembered, his heart filling up with rage and resentment immediately after. "But I learned the hard way that people just want to use you, and then, discard you when you're spent. Having 'allies' always leads to betrayal, and I'm done making that mistake. Trust is useless to me, so I'll settle for obedience, instead. I've had enough disappointment for several lifetimes, you see? I don't need any more. So, you either serve me, or, you go your own way and fend for yourself. And, if you dare get in my way, for any reason, then you'll wish for the likes of the Dark Lord to hunt you down instead of me."

The High Mother gazed deep into his eyes, and then, she did something that jarred him… She looked sorry for him, rather than being intimidated by him, and Ron didn't know what to say. The blatant pity in her eyes and expression angered him far more than he cared to admit, and yet, she looked sincere enough that he didn't lash out at her. So, they just stood there, in the ruins of a dead civilisation, letting it speak for them once again.

---

He led her down the spiral staircase, holding onto her arm in order to support her. When they had come out of the memory, when she had downed her glass and thrown it over the railing, Ron had finally realized why she had reacted so strongly to the horror awaiting them all.

"No more forbidden loves, no more traveling the land and exploring its people, no more grand tales of good against evil…" her voice echoed in his head, reminding him of their first meeting. She's a romantic, but there's nothing romantic about what the Dark Lord will unleash on us. Evil wins, in the end, and I think that might've broken her.

Ron led her into the empty living room, all the way to the fireplace, before removing his arm from hers. "Are you going to stand with me? I need an answer before you leave."

The High Mother broke out of her thoughts, looking to him with hollow eyes. "…What choice do I have? I must protect my children, and you know it. What else can I say?"

"You have to swear your allegiance to me," Ron returned, staring through her. "I need to hear you say it, so when you betray me, I can tear you to pieces with a clear conscience." I like you, but those who betray me will all meet the same fate, now.

"…You have my allegiance," she said after a pause, her eyes digging into his, again. "There… Now, if I betray you, you can do as you please to me." Then, it's settled.

"Goodnight, High Mother," Ron took a step back, looking to the fireplace. With her influence and power, I can easily secure Magical France as the American Aurors wanted. Now, I just need to secure Magical Britain, and then, they can start throwing themselves at my problems. Everything is falling into place according to my designs-…

"Give me your wand," the High Mother suddenly said, making him blink.

"…What?"

"Your wand, Ronald," she put her hand forth, and after some consideration, Ron handed over his Aspen wand. What is she playing at, exactly?

"Are you going to use it against me?" Ron asked, some part of him hoped that she would. Go on. Do it. Put me out of my misery, and doom yourself in the process. I dare you.

She studied the wand with her hands, though her eyes never left his. Eventually, she smiled that sorry smile again, before aiming her wand at the floorboards. …the fuck?

"Accio," she whispered, and a nail flew out of the floorboard and began to hover between them. "Portus." The nail began to glow blue, before abruptly returning to normal. "Your handkerchief, please." Did she just make a Portkey? What the hell?

Ron eyed the Enchanted nail, and then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his black handkerchief. She took it with her spare hand, wrapping it around the nail carefully. She then returned his wand to him, and as he sheathed it, she took the covered Portkey and placed it in his gloved hand. What is this? What is she doing?

"This will bring you straight to my chambers, Ronald," she closed his hand for him, squeezing it tightly. "I will have the Wards placed upon my chambers removed. Come to me whenever you need to, whether it's in the middle of the day, or, in the dead of night. I will attend to you regardless of any circumstance." Really? You're giving me a ticket straight to you?

"What about your guards?" Ron asked, wondering if this was a trap. "How do I know they won't be waiting for me?" I got jumped once after using a Portkey, and I don't want to repeat that particular fuck-up.

"Could they truly stop you if you wished me harm?" she asked in response. "Be honest with me."

"No, I'd kill them all without hesitation." And I would make their deaths very, very painful to boot.

"Then, you have nothing to fear," the High Mother said, placing her warm hands on his cold cheeks. "Don't lose faith in us, Ronald… If you're going to fight for us, then believe in us. Please." What is she on about?

"I don't understand what you're getting at," Ron said, removing her hands from his face.

"I think, you do," she whispered, searching his eyes. "I think, you have no faith in anyone, not even yourself. The very notions of trust and faith have been ripped away from you. You say that you believe in people rising above their innate instincts, their baser desires, but those words ring hollow the more I listen to you. You don't care about people rising above their selfishness, you only care about punishing those who don't. You fight to secure our future because that's all you've ever done, not because you believe we deserve it, and that makes you just as dangerous to us as the Dark Lord." What?! Why do people keep comparing me to that fucking cunt?!

"I don't appreciate being compared to a selfish murderer who's going to destroy the world," Ron warned icily, but his words didn't seem to faze her.

"I'm not saying you're like him, you unfortunate boy," she promised, her smile turning even more pitiful. "You have a good heart, I see that, but it's being strangled by your rage, and if you're not careful, then that rage will pour out of you and wash over this world. All the good work you've done will be destroyed by it. We will be destroyed by it." She then turned to leave, stopping in front of the fireplace. "The world is cruel enough, isn't it? Does it's saviour need to be cruel as well?"

With that, she prepared the floo and departed for her palace, leaving Ron alone in the empty living room to contemplate her words. She wasn't wrong about him, and he wasn't going to bother defending himself from her accusations. No matter how much shame he felt whenever he looked into a mirror, he couldn't deny what he had become. He spent so much time lying to everyone else that it seemed utterly immoral to lie to himself as well. He was cruel, maybe even more cruel than the unjust world that had created him, but sacrifices needed to be made for his mission to succeed.

If his soul was what it cost to save everyone else's, then so be it… That's what any saviour worth a damn would do, right?

---

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Burrow – Midday)

"Why are you staring at dummy?" came Artyom's voice from behind him, and he shot a look back. "Where are its legs?"

"Across the yard," Ron shrugged, still feeling distracted by the High Mother's final words to him. "What brings you here, Artyom? Is everything all right?"

"I have information for you," Artyom replied, eyeing the P-12's broken body. "My scouts have found Centaurs you were looking for, those that Greengrass hurt." Really?

"That's brilliant, mate…" Ron smiled weakly, glad to finally receive some good news. "Where are they?"

"Wales. Near Pembrokeshire."

"Bloody hell, they really fled as far as they could, didn't they?" Ron sighed out, already dreading Apparating so far. "What else did your scouts find out? How many are there? Are they in need of help?"

"Greengrass' man has found them," Artyom replied, making Ron tense. Gods be damned… There's always something wrong, isn't there? "My scouts recognized Jürgen before he recognized them. We got lucky. He was distracted." We never get lucky.

"Of all people, he sent that lunatic to find them?" Ron frowned deeply, wondering what his old mentor was up to. "You think he plans to kill them as well? Make sure they're not a loose end that could tie him up?" Knowing him, I wouldn't put it past him. His only concern is elevating his family above all others, even if it means climbing a mountain of dead. Even if it means lying to and manipulating someone who loved him, who was already loyal to him… He's capable of anything, and I won't underestimate him a second time.

Ron absentmindedly pressed the ever-fresh wounds on his right forearm, trying to replace the dull ache in his heart with another source of pain. The High Mother is no different from him, I can't forget that… She just wants to use me, to manipulate with me 'kindness' and 'understanding'-…

"If he wanted to kill them, he would send more men," Artyom gave his opinion, and Ron turned to face him. "He wants to make peace with his past. That is what I think."

"Make peace with his past?" Ron chuckled tiredly, surprised by his friend's sudden naivety. "He doesn't think he did anything wrong, Artyom. When I confronted him, he made it abundantly clear that 'those savages' were infringing upon his lands, and that they got what they deserved. He has always seen other species as lesser than Wizarding-Kind, but I ignored that part of him because…" he trailed off. Because I loved him, and because I believed people could rise above their natures. I was naïve and foolish, but he taught me the error of my ways. One final lesson, eh, from father to son… "He doesn't care about those Centaurs, but what he does care about is himself. They know what he did, and since I know what he did too, he needs to silence them before I use them against him. That's what I think."

"Would you use them against him?" Artyom asked.

"Yes," Ron answered, feeling that dull ache return. "If he threatened more innocent lives, I'd stop him. No matter how much it would hurt me to see him locked away in Azkaban, or, buried in the cold ground, I would stop him." And if that makes me cruel, then I am cruel. A man can't give up on his principles, on his ideals, not for any reason whatsoever. Not even his family. "Keep watching the Centaurs, won't you? If Jürgen tries anything nefarious, have your scouts jump him. We can't let that tribe suffer any more than they already have, got it?"

"Got it," Artyom gave a nod. "Do you need anything else?"

"Yes, now that you mention it," Ron started, stretching his back. "I need London, and nine of your meanest-looking mercenaries, tomorrow. I want to take them with me to Hogwarts when I attend my Duels."

"You need killers for school event?" Artyom raised an eyebrow, curious.

"I need to remind certain people that, even if I'm not at Hogwarts, I'm still in charge," Ron explained, the mere thought of House Politics bored him immensely. "My House-mates need to understand that I'm not someone who can be refused, who can be questioned… Who can be overthrown. Seeing ten killers attend me while I decimate the competition will send them a message they won't soon forget. They tend to respect shallow showcases of power, you see, so that's what I'll give them."

"I will make arrangements, then," Artyom turned to leave, shooting a quick look back. "I still think I am right, though. About Greengrass. He might not care for Centaurs, but he cares for you. Sometimes, that is enough to change even worst of men."

As Ron watched Artyom leave, the redhead realized that he felt nothing in regards to Artyom's theory, despite wanting to. I want to believe that Greengrass wants to change, but it doesn't matter, in the end. He could take every single Centaur on Earth under his wing, but it won't bring back those children he murdered. It won't earn him my forgiveness. The good doesn't wash out the bad. Justice must have it's due, no matter what, but since I'm too weak to carry out the sentence he deserves, the least I can do is make sure he regrets his choices for the rest of his life.

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Midday)

"Are you nervous, Daphne?" Theo asked, leaning down from behind her. "What about you, Pans? You nervous?"

"Not really," Pansy hummed, too busy inspecting her freshly-polished nails to pay any attention to what was going on around her. "It'll come down to me and Daphne, and I'm confident I can beat her." Oh, really?!

"I wouldn't be so sure, Parkinson," Daphne smirked, watching Professor Lupin address the students and parents from the sandpit below. "Last time we sparred; I was the one who disarmed you."

"I wasn't really trying, to be honest," Pansy admitted, making Theo snigger. "Theo, is Tracey coming? I don't see her anywhere."

"How would I know?" Theo asked, and both girls looked back with dull expressions. "Fine… She's resting today… She wanted to come, but her parents wanted to spend the weekend with her, and they don't think she's strong enough to be here yet. She's not happy about it, not one bit." He sends her more letters than I do. So cute.

"And Ron?" Pansy asked, looking to Daphne. "We saw his parents before, even his brother, William, but not him. Isn't he going to come support us?" He doesn't need to hold our hands, does he? Hasn't he done enough already?

"Ron is probably busy with more important matters," Daphne shrugged, ignoring the fact that Pansy rolled her eyes. "We'll just have to make do without him watching over us." Daphne then turned back to face Theo, again. "Are you boys ready for your Duels? Is Potter going to be a problem for you?"

"Please," Theo scoffed and fake-laughed. "Potter? Against me? The God of speed and reflexes?! The most powerful Nott to ever exist?!" Uh-huh.

"I wouldn't underestimate him, Theo," Blaise spoke up, while Malfoy frowned deeply at the weedy boy. "He nearly bested Millie, remember? He's no doubt been training under Professor Lupin, again." And he's riding high from winning the Quidditch Cup. Blaise is right, Potter could be a real problem for them.

"I could easily destroy Professor Lupin too, if I wanted," Theo smirked, and Daphne wasn't sure if he was joking. He actually might suffer from delusions… I should have Madam Pomfrey check him soon, before someone strangles him for running his mouth too much.

"Just don't lose, all right?" Daphne sighed out, giving Blaise a meaningful look. "Slytherin has to win every single Rank, especially the lower Ranks. We can't let Ron down, but more importantly, we can't let ourselves down. We've worked too hard to have victory usurped from us at the last minute."

"Aye, aye, gorgeous leader," Theo sniggered, whereas Blaise gave a simple nod.

"When are they going to start this?" Pansy groaned, shooting a frown down at Professor Lupin. "He's been droning on and on for ages!"

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"This is nice," Pansy smiled contently, pouring herself a glass of lemonade. "Much better than having to wait in the stands, don't you think?"

"You're right," Daphne replied absentmindedly, looking up at her parents, again. Father is here as well. Now, I can't lose, no matter what. Honestly, I wish he hadn't come… I'm not ready to talk to him just yet.

The D-Rank quarterfinalists had been called down to wait near the sandpit, in an area decked out with umbrellas, comfier seating, and refreshments. It appeared as though they'd be having their Duels back to back until a winner was announced, which only added another hurdle for the contestants to overcome. I have to win, but I also have to reserve my strength-…

"Daphne? Do you want some?" Pansy waved in her face, giving her a quizzical look.

"Oh, of course," Daphne broke out of her thoughts. "Thank you, Pans." Focus, Daphne. As Ron would say, only losers worry about losing. I'm here to win, regardless of the challenges.

"What about you, Ginevra?" Pansy looked to the redhead, smiling pleasantly.

"Um… Sure," Ginny smiled back, though it wasn't nearly as sincere. "And it's Ginny. Only mum calls me Ginevra, but even then, she only does it when she's upset with me-"

"No one cares, Weasley," Suzie interrupted, frowning at Ginny. "Enjoy the lemonade while you can, because I'll make sure you taste sand soon enough."

Pansy and Daphne exchanged looks, before rolling their eyes. House Rivalry… Such a tedious concept.

"How about I give you a tasting of my fist right now?" Ginny frowned back, reminding Daphne of Ron.

"Brute."

"Bitch."

"Tart."

"Slag."

"That's enough, you two," Daphne cut in, giving them both warning looks. "Save it for the sandpit, all right? We don't need to hear this on such a lovely day."

"You two are totally ruining my aura right now," Pansy added, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I think, Professor Lupin is about to address us," Mathias McCumbers spoke up, looking between Ginny and Suzie with an apprehensive look. "And if Professor Snape catches you two fighting before the matches even start…" he trailed off. Yes, that would not end well for either of you. So, stop it.

"…To make things a little more interesting," Professor Lupin continued addressing the crowd, before turning to face the contestants. "We have randomized who the remaining Duellists will be facing." Wait, what? What did he say? "The new matches are as follows! Daphne Greengrass vs. Boris Grimm!" Boris?! "Ginny Weasley vs. Suzie Ninkovich! Pansy Parkinson vs. Mathias McCumbers! Ernest Macmillan vs. Morag MacDougal!" Are you serious?! The Slytherins are all facing each other with the exception of Suzie?

Pansy and Daphne exchanged looks again, both of them were thinking the same thing. Is this just to give the other Houses a chance? Or, are they trying to sabotage Slytherin in particular? Unbelievable! How could Professor Snape allow this?!

"Daphne and Boris, please come up!" Professor Lupin called, and they both walked over to the centre of the sandpit.

"Good luck," the second-year boy whispered, giving her a shy smile. Is he blushing?

"You too, Boris," Daphne smiled back softly, taking up her position. "Remember to keep your feet moving, okay? Just like we practised."

"I will," he promised, brandishing his wand.

"Remember the rules, you two," Professor Lupin spoke directly to them. "No Blasting Curses, no physical contact, and stay within the ring. If we tell you to stop, you stop immediately." They both nodded, and the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor smiled. "Have fun, okay? That's the most important thing." To a Gryffindor, maybe. We Slytherins are here to win. "Are you both ready?"

"Yes, Professor," they replied simultaneously.

"Begin!"

"Stupefy!" Boris wasted no time in throwing out the first Spell of the Duel, which Daphne promptly dodged. Remember to conserve your strength, Daphne. Let him tire himself out, and when you get the chance, end this. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"

Daphne moved left and right, putting more distance between herself and Boris with each dodge. She knew he wasn't the most accurate second year, but she wasn't about to underestimate him, either. He had made it to the quarterfinals, after all, regardless of the skills of his previous opponents.

"Immobulus!" Boris suddenly chanted, aiming for her feet.

"Protego!" Daphne promptly raised a shield, smirking as the blue light exploded against her defences. Have to move quickly! Can't get stuck behind the shield!

Daphne rushed to her right, not planning to get bogged down in one place and remain on the defensive. Boris threw out more stunners and Disarming Charms, but with the added distance between them, his Spells weren't going to land even if she wasn't trying to actively dodge them. Realizing this, the boy made the mistake of trying to rush forward, forgetting to keep the pressure up as he did so. Now!

"Incarcerous!" Daphne launched ropes to bind Boris, but he was able to raise a shield just in time to block them. "Finite! Stupefy!"

Boris' shield was shattered by the General Counter-Spell, and the stunner flew past his ear, causing him to lose his footing from panic. Oh, no! I nearly hit him in the head! Thank Merlin, I missed! As Boris attempted to scramble to his feet, Daphne took the time to slow down and aim her next shot, firing another stunner which collided against the boy's ribs, sending him sliding across the sand.

"Match!" Professor Lupin called, and the crowd was quick to cheer and clap for her. That's my first match won!

Daphne drew in a deep breath before looking up towards her parents. Her father had a light smirk on his face, whereas her mother was beaming and cheering for her openly. Despite her recent disagreements with them, their presence did a lot to bolster her morale. I should stop staring at them and check up on Boris. He's probably going to get a bruise from that last stunner.

Making her way towards the edge of the sandpit, Daphne walked over to Madam Pomfrey, who had already awakened Boris in order to check him over.

"Boris, are you hurt?" Daphne asked, putting on a light smile to cheer him up a bit.

He looked up at her from the ground, his cheeks turning rosy. "…No… It's nothing, honestly. Doesn't even hurt." Madam Pomfrey poked his ribs, making him wince. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"Don't try to act tough, Mr. Grimm," Madam Pomfrey admonished, clicking her tongue. "I need honesty from you if you want my help."

Daphne held back a laugh, finding his attempts to act tough adorable. "You did really well, Boris. I'll see you back in Slytherin, all right?"

"…Okay…" he shifted about in his spot, giving her another shy smile. "Oh, and congratulations. Sorry, I should've said that earlier, but-… Sorry…"

"Thank you," Daphne gave him a small wave, before returning to the remaining contestants.

"Good work," Pansy smiled at her as she sat down. "A little boring, if I'm being honest, but efficient. That's so your style!" Pardon?

"Um… Did you just call me boring?" Daphne blinked, but Pansy feigned innocence. I'm not boring whatsoever.

"Ginny Weasley and Suzie Ninkovich! Please, come up to the sandpit!" Professor Lupin called, and both girls shot out of their seats and all but raced to the centre of the ring. They're eager to start, aren't they?

"Ten Galleons on Suzie," Pansy smirked, nudging Daphne. "Want to take the bet?"

"Sure, I'll put ten on Ginny," Daphne sighed out. "And, I'm not boring. I'm a Lady, and I act accordingly."

"That's what makes you boring." I'll show her boring when we're up against each other!

---

Ginny Weasley's POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Past Midday)

"Ready to lose, again, Weasley?" Ninkovich smirked, earning herself a blank stare in response. "Oh, too scared to say anything back?"

"My brother's not here to whisper in your ear this time," Ginny reminded the smug Slytherin. "We'll see who will lose this time." It's a shame physical contact is no longer allowed. I'd love to slap that smirk off her stupid face.

"Are you both ready?" Remus asked, looking between the two.

"Ready, Sir," Ninkovich replied, taking up a posture similar to Ron's.

"Me too," Ginny copied her, preparing to put all that running before the break to the test.

"Then, begin!" Remus announced, and Ninkovich immediately fired a stunner at her face. OI!

Ginny ducked and responded with a Disarming Charm, and the two immediately settled into trading Spell for Spell. Despite how annoying Ninkovich was, Ginny had to give the snake her dues. She was quick, and every Spell she fired had a certain sort of malicious intent behind it that left a cold feeling in Ginny's gut. Regardless of this feeling, however, Ginny continued trading Spells with Ninkovich. I can outlast her! I know I can! All she does is sit around on her skinny arse all day! I will outlast her!

"Incendio!" Ninkovich suddenly unleashed a wave of fire at her, and as people gasped in the stands, Ginny raised a shield to defend herself. "Finite! Stupefy!" That trick isn't always going to work, idiot!

Ginny dove to the side as the General Counter-Spell shattered her shield, Ninkovich's stunner missing her by a wide margin. "Depulso!"

The Banishing Charm sent sand flying at Ninkovich, making her shriek and cover her face with her spare arm. HA! Take that!

"Get off the ground, Ginny!" Hermione shouted from the stands, but Ginny was already on her feet by the time Hermione had finished.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Ginny chanted, trying to end the Duel, but once again, Ninkovich managed to dodge in time. Ugh! Slippery snake!

Her temper flaring, Ginny started hurling stunners at Ninkovich with wild abandon, screaming out the incantation over and over again, making the other girl shriek and run about in an effort to stay in the game. Come back here! This is not happening to me, again!

"Calm down, you crazy-! AGH!" Ninkovich began bolting in the opposite direction, a stunner blowing past her head. What is she doing?! This isn't fair!

"Glacius!" Ginny aimed her wand at Ninkovich's feet, creating a sheet of ice over the sand, causing Ninkovich to slip and hit her head so hard that it cracked the ice. OW! Merlin's Beard, that looked like it hurt!

"Match!" Remus shouted, already running towards the injured girl.

Snape frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, whereas Ginny cringed internally when Ninkovich started bawling in Remus' arms. I think, I see blood… I didn't mean to bust her head open-… The Gryffindors suddenly burst into cheers, and the rest of the student body swiftly followed, save for the Slytherins, who openly jeered at her. Ignoring all her fellow Hogwarts students, Ginny looked up towards her parents, already knowing how they would react to the unforeseen outcome. As expected, her father was cheering loudly alongside Sirius, whereas her mother was frowning in disapproval because she had lost her temper. I know, I know… Women shouldn't lose their tempers… But in my defence, I'm not even a teenager yet, so… Oh, well… She honestly had it coming running her mouth like that, and since Madam Pomfrey will sort her out within a second, I don't see any reason for mum to be upset.

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Past Midday)

"Well, that was unexpected," Pansy pouted, whereas Daphne smirked. "How could Suzie lose like that? So disappointing!" Ginevra has quite the temper on her, though. It has to be a family trait.

"I'll collect my winnings tonight, thank you," Daphne said, sipping her lemonade. "Mmm, that's good. Tastes like… victory."

"Enjoy it," Pansy returned her smirk, sticking her nose up. "When I win this whole thing, I'll be sure to mention to Ron that you tried your very hardest." Not that he'll care, because nothing we do is ever good enough for him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe my match is up next."

Pansy gestured Mathias to follow after her, making her way to the edge of the sandpit without delay. As she waited for the second year Slytherin to catch up, she shot a subtle glance up to the Gryffindor stands. Neville was watching her keenly, a happy smile plastered across his face, still not realizing that she wasn't pleased with him. He had failed to muster up the courage to make a move on her during their date in the Choir Room, even though Pansy had given him all the right signals, and as such, she was beginning to doubt whether he was even capable of such a feat. Honestly, he's still so nervous around me, and it's starting to get annoying. We've been dating for over a month, now! When is he going to man up?! Tsk… Why would the Hat put him in Gryffindor when he's so obviously a Hufflepuff?

"Good luck up there," Mathias whispered to her, coming to a stop on her left. Luck? I don't need luck. I have my wit, don't I?

"I won't need luck, because you're going to let me win," Pansy whispered back, keeping her gaze fixed ahead.

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to let me win, but only after we put on a convincing show," Pansy instructed, shooting him a half-smile. "I hear that you like to collect Gobstone sets, Mathias. Is that correct?"

"Um… Yeah…" the boy answered hesitantly.

"And isn't there a rare set on the shelves these days? People are saying that you won't stop talking about it," Pansy purred, and immediately, realization dawned upon the boy's innocent face. "What was it, again? I forgot the name…"

"T-The Dragon's Gaze set…" Mathias muttered, swallowing thickly. "Each Gobstone is forged to resemble the eyes of the most powerful Dragons known to Wizarding-Kind… They've only made five hundred of them in total, so they're really rare… And expensive. Very expensive…"

"Not for me, they aren't," Pansy stated, watching Suzie being escorted off of the sandpit. "Just don't make me run too much, all right? I don't want to be too tired by the time I reach the finals." Daphne will have to face Ginevra next, whereas I'll be facing either MacDougal, or, Macmillan, both of whom will be easy enough to beat. I'm totally going to win this whole thing!

"Pansy Parkinson and Mathias McCumbers, please come up," Professor Lupin called, beckoning them over to him.

The pair of Slytherins entered the arena and stopped at the centre, facing each other. Mathias gave Pansy a short nod, bringing a mischievous smile out of her. Good boy.

"Are you both ready?" Professor Lupin asked. Ready to win, yes. "Begin!"

"Locomotor Wibbly!" Mathias chanted, firing the Orange coloured Curse at her.

Pansy swiftly hopped aside, returning the favour with a well-aimed stunner. Mathias copied her movements, before firing a stunner of his own. The pair of Slytherins exchanged numerous Spells back and forth, creating a rather believable play for the audience to enjoy, until suddenly, Mathias casted a Disarming Charm immediately after casting another Jelly-Legs Curse, catching Pansy off-guard. Shit! Pansy jumped to her right, landing on her hands and knees, before quickly scrambling back up to her feet as a stunner blew past her. Blithering idiot! I'm supposed to win! What is he doing?!

Frowning deeply, Pansy aimed her wand at the second year. "Ebublio!"

Mathias didn't even bother trying to dodge, instead feigning shock as he was engulfed in a large bubble. Pansy immediately knew that she had won, as the bubble could not be popped by physical force alone. That's better! A little too convincing on his part, but I'll forgive him for trying to sell it.

"Depulso!" Pansy chanted, using the Banishing Charm to send the bubble, and the wizard within it, rolling out of the sandpit.

"Match!" Professor Lupin announced, and cheers erupted from the stands.

Pansy beamed, basking in the admiration of her peers; she could hardly wait to win this whole thing and shove it in Ron's face. I'll show him that I'm no follower! I'm Lady Parkinson, the wealthiest young witch in all of Magical Britain! I can get whatever I want whenever I want! And unlike him, I don't have to toil away like some slave to win! I'm far too clever for that!

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Past Midday)

As she watched Macmillan and MacDougal 'Duel', Daphne felt a growing sense of nervousness about the outcome of the D-Rank Tournament. Pansy had bested Mathias, the strongest Duellist amongst all second years, with relative ease. She hadn't even broken a sweat! And now, she gets to face either Macmillan, who is both slow and chubby, or, MacDougal, who only got this far because she got lucky with her opponents. She's going to win without any real challenge, again, whereas I'll be spent from facing Ginny. Despite her small size, she's got a talent for Duelling and she's wicked fast… Damn it… This isn't looking good for me-…

"Something bothering you, Daph?" Pansy asked, a smug smirk on her face. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

"Just thinking of some strategies," Daphne answered, not giving anything away. "Oh, and the speech I'll give after I'm announced as champion of D-Rank."

"Champion of D-Rank?" Pansy giggled, looking to Ginny. "You hear that, Ginny? She thinks she's going to beat you without fuss." Is she seriously trying to rile up Ginny? After what she just did to Suzie? That's a cheap move, Pansy.

"I don't think that, Ginny," Daphne assured the redhead, who just gave her a dull look in response. "It's just a bit of friendly banter, that's all."

"I'd prefer it if you two left me out of it," Ginny turned her attention back to the sandpit, sounding overly competitive. "I'm just here to try my hardest, that's all." That's what worries me. Still, that's a good mindset to have. I should stop worrying about what comes next and just try my best. If Pansy wins, then, at least, Slytherin still benefits. What's important is that we both reach the finals-…

"Match!" Professor Lupin exclaimed, and Daphne looked to see Macmillan still on his feet.

He was pink in the face, heaving for air, but he had managed to throw MacDougal out of the ring with either a Knockback Jinx, or, a Disarming Charm. Daphne let out a sigh, he looked ready to keel over already, which meant that Pansy was going to score another effortless victory. Just focus on doing your best, even if the odds are stacked against you.

"Daphne Greengrass and Ginny Weasley, please come up here!" Professor Lupin called once the arena had been cleared, and both girls did as they were instructed.

From the corner of her eyes, Daphne could see the intense focus on Ginny's face, and it eerily reminded her of Ron whenever he was facing the P-12. Just do your best. Just do your best. Just do your best. Daphne drew in a deep breath as she got into position, removing all non-essential thoughts from her head. I need to limit her movement, I reckon. Keep her in one spot and keep her on the defensive. I can do this!

"Are you two ready to start?" Professor Lupin asked them, and they both nodded. "Then… Begin!"

"Stupe-" Ginny started, but Daphne interrupted her with a Non-Verbal stunner.

Although it was much weaker than if she had chanted the incantation, it still achieved the desired result. Ginny was caught off-guard, and was forced to make a hasty jump to the side. Go! Don't give her a chance to retaliate!

"Aguamenti!" Daphne chanted, aiming the tip of her wand at Ginny's feet.

A jet of water shot forth from her wand, but much to Daphne's frustration, the redhead raised a shield just in time to block it. So much for that! Undoing the Water-Making Spell, Daphne fired a pair of Non-Verbal stunners to keep Ginny in place, thinking of another strategy as the Gryffindor remained rooted in her spot. Oh, I know!

"Glacius!" Daphne hissed, sending a gust of frost forward, which froze anything wet in its path, including Ginny's shield. "Expelliarmus!" Thank you, Blaise!

The bolt of scarlet light smashed the frozen shield into pieces, sending Ginny tumbling onto her back from fright. Daphne didn't hesitate, attempting to stun the younger witch before she could get back up. However, shockingly, Ginny rolled backwards in a display of alarming agility, shooting up to her feet as the stunner intended for her hit nothing but sand. Damn it! Stay still, will you?!

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny finally cast her first offensive Spell, making Daphne dodge to the right. Merlin… Is it just me, or, was her Disarming Charm both faster and larger than mine? "Stupefy!"

Once again, Daphne dodged to the right, before casting another Non-Verbal stunner at her persistent opponent. Ginny simply ducked under it, using her smaller figure to her advantage.

"Flipendo!" Ginny shouted, starting to look furious.

"Protego!" Daphne decided to not take any chances, visibly surprised when the Knockback Jinx managed to leave cracks in her shield. I was right! Her Spells are stronger than mine! How?! I'm older than her!

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny roared, hurling a scarlet orb which whistled through the air and smashed Daphne's shield into pieces, sending her tumbling onto her arse this time. "Stupefy!" Fuck!

Daphne rolled to the side, dodging in the nick of time. "Depulso!"

The Banishing Charm was poorly aimed, but it blew sand onto Ginny's face, causing her to instinctively shield her eyes. Get up! Get up! Get up!

"Yeah! That's how it feels!" Suzie's voice rang out from the sidelines.

Ignoring the burning in her thighs, and the fact that her wand arm suddenly felt like lead, Daphne sprang up to her feet. "Fumos!"

Thick smoke poured out of the tip of her wand, and Daphne cleverly twirled the wand above her head in a circular motion, obscuring herself from the Gryffindor. Kneeling immediately after, which was certainly the right move because a stunner promptly missed her head by a few inches, Daphne cast the Disillusionment Charm onto herself in a bid to buy herself some time to think. But, first…

Running backwards and out of the smoke, Daphne drew in a deep breath as she aimed her wand at her own smokescreen. "Ventus!"

A jet of spiralling wind blew the smoke in Ginny's direction, hiding the redhead within, but also serving to blind her. Daphne rushed forward, still hidden by the Disillusionment Charm, hoping to catch Ginny unaware when she fled from the smoke. Focus on your breathing, Daphne! If she sees you this close, it could end badly for you!

As expected, Ginny stormed out of the smoke, running at full speed. Shit, she's so fast! The Gryffindor was running towards the right side of the sandpit, though her eyes were searching the area where Daphne had first cast the Smokescreen Spell. Surprise overtook her anger when she realized that Daphne was nowhere to be seen, and she came to an abrupt stop several feet away from the blonde. Should I risk getting closer to her? The Disillusionment Charm doesn't exactly make a person invisible, and if she notices me, I'll be back to square one.

"Protego!" Ginny suddenly chanted, creating a shield in front of her as she searched for Daphne. I might hit her shield from this angle. I need to try and go around her so I can flank her. If she doesn't see my Spell coming, it's more likely to land.

Ignoring the crowd's murmurings, and her own thumping heartbeat, Daphne tiptoed her way out of Ginny's line of sight until she was certain that she wouldn't accidently hit the Gryffindor's shield. Once she was in position, she aimed her wand at the second year's back. Sorry, Ginny. Shooting you in the back isn't exactly honourable, but I have to win this.

"Stupefy!" Daphne chanted, and immediately, Ginny dove to the left, abandoning her shield as if that was always her plan. NO! You have got to be joking!

Ginny landed on her hands and knees, but launched into a sprint before Daphne could cast another stunner at her. Why isn't she getting tired?!

"Stupefy! Stupefy!" Daphne fired stunner after stunner at Ginny, but her aim couldn't keep up with athletic girl, who ran in a circle until she was facing Daphne again from a distance. I hate you so much right now, Ginevra! The Gryffindors lost their minds, howling and cheering for Ginny at the top of their lungs.

"Must be a Slytherin thing, huh?" Ginny panted, frowning deeply. "Going invisible and shooting Spells at people who can't see you? My brother and your friends seem to love doing it, so I figured you'd try it too." Ugh! "Why don't you fight me fairly? Scared that you'll lose?"

Daphne frowned back, but didn't let the younger witch goad her into losing her temper. She's getting tired from the looks of it, but then again, so am I. What's my next move? Clever tactics aren't really working out for me, so maybe, I should just trade Spells with her? No… No, if I do that, I'll be exhausted in the finals… Damn it, why did I have to face her?! And how did Mathias lose so quickly to Pansy when he's clearly the strongest second year?! A bloody Ebublio Jinx caught him by surprise?! Absolute idiot!

Daphne drew in another sharp breath, keeping her wand arm steady despite it feeling heavier and heavier. I have to win this… I just have to. I know I can do it. Father is right there in the stands, and if he sees me lose, he'll just keep overlooking me. Everyone will keep overlooking me.

"Stupefy!" Ginny broke the silence.

"Expelliarmus!" Daphne fired back after dodging.

The two began exchanging Spells, moving closer and closer to each other, until once again, they were at the distance the they had started from. Daphne's arm was getting sore, now, and judging from Ginny's sluggish movements, they were in the same boat. One final push, Daphne! Give it all you've got!

"Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Flipendo! Stupefy!" Daphne chained her Spells together, remembering Ron's lessons.

She wasn't as quick, nor as capable, with the technique as he was, but the onslaught was enough to force Ginny into being solely on the defence. The younger witch's dodges were becoming sloppier and sloppier, and when she finally raised her shield, it was weak and fading. I've got you, now!

"Finite!" Daphne grit out, ignoring her own fatigue. "Stupefy!"

The stunner hit Ginny in the shoulder, dropping her flat onto her back. The Slytherins exploded into cheers and whistles, while Daphne groaned tiredly as she finally lowered her wand arm. I did it… I won… Merlin, I've got a terrible stitch-…

Ginny stirred, much to Daphne's horror, but try as she might, the second year couldn't bring herself to get off her back. My stunner must've been weakened from pushing myself too hard. I should hit her with another while I still have the chance.

Daphne aimed her wand back at Ginny, but before she could cast anything, Professor Snape limped over and lowered her arm. "You've won, so don't even try it." He then looked towards Professor Lupin. "Call it. Weasley is not getting back up."

"Match!" Professor Lupin announced, making his way over to check up on Ginny. Thank Merlin! It's over!

Daphne let out a long breath, struggling to get her breathing even after. I'm sweating… I'm actually sweating… So gross…

"You did well," Professor Snape said offhandedly, not even sparing her a glance. "Go and rest. Now."

"…Yes, sir," Daphne did as she was bid, eager to sit down and drink some lemonade.

The crowd enthusiastically applauded her victory as she returned to her seat, and as she sat down, both Pansy and Macmillan greeted her with wide smiles.

"That was intense, Daph!" Pansy offered her a drink, beaming. "I wasn't sure who was going to come out on top near the end, but I'm glad it was you!"

"You were both brilliant," Macmillan added, looking a lot less pink, now. "I didn't know you were so quick with your Spells, Greengrass! Good on you!"

"Thank you, Macmillan, that's most kind of you," Daphne managed a half-smile, the muscles in her legs and arm were still burning painfully. And, please, give Pansy a run for her money, because if you don't, I won't stand a chance… Sweet Circe, I just want to lie down and go to sleep right now…

---

Five Minutes Later

Daphne watched in utter silence as the crowd cheered for Pansy, something that the raven-haired witch was enjoying a little too much. Macmillan, the clumsy boy, had rolled his ankle whilst overcommitting to a dodge, and it hadn't even taken him a second to drop his wand, clutching his ankle with both hands and screaming as though someone had cut his foot off. And now, I'm up against Pansy, who hasn't even broken a sweat yet. I'm doomed…

"Daphne Greengrass, please make your way over!" Professor Lupin called, beckoning her with a friendly smile. "It is time for the D-Rank finals!"

The crowd broke into more cheers, their excitement was palpable. Daphne decided to block them out in order to maintain her focus. What little was left of it, anyway. She was still sore, and tired, and now more than ever before, she wished that she had taken Ron's morning runs more seriously. I should've pushed myself harder, like Millie, Theo, Blaise, and even Malfoy… The only one who took it less seriously than me is Pansy, but she really lucked out today. Damn it… All I can do is try my best, at this point. Maybe, she'll slip up and give me an opening.

"You're looking quite out of sorts, Daphne," Pansy smiled in a teasing manner. "Very unlike a Lady, I must say. Your hair is messy, your clothes are dirty, and I can smell your sweaty pits from here."

"So what?" Daphne smirked, despite feeling the urge to give her the bird. "You're like that every day, and you don't hear me complaining, do you?"

"That was your best comeback?" Pansy laughed, not fazed in the slightest. "Maybe after I beat you, you can ask your 'Lord Father' to buy you a proper sense of humour? For all our sake?"

Daphne frowned at that, even though she knew that Pansy had no idea how strained her relationship had become with her father as of late. Pansy noticed the mirth leave Daphne's expression entirely, making her blink. Now, I'm definitely going to win by Hexing you in the face.

"Are you both prepared? Need me to go over the rules, again?" Professor Lupin asked, approaching them.

"We're ready, Sir, and no… We know the rules," Daphne narrowed her eyes on Pansy, who fixed up her expression and took on a more balanced posture.

"Ready, Professor Lupin," Pansy gave a nod, looking focused for a change.

"You may begin!" Professor Lupin announced, hopping back.

"Stupefy!" both girls chanted immediately, dodging each other's stunners just as quickly.

"Tarantallegra!" Pansy fired the Dancing Feet Spell at Daphne, who stepped to the side to avoid being made a joke in front of her schoolmates.

"Melofors!" Daphne cast the Pumpkin-Head Jinx in return, but Pansy easily avoided the orange ball of light that was sent her way.

"Mimblewimble!"

"Mucus ad Nauseam!"

"Relashio!"

"Densaugeo!"

"Depulso!"

"Protego!" Daphne raised a shield, blocking both the force of the Banishing Charm and the sand that accompanied it. "Depulso!"

Trying to mimic Ron once again, she pushed forward with all her might, sending her Shield Charm forth in a conelike shape. However, due to either her incompetence with this particular trick, or, the fact that she was already in a weakened state, the shield fizzled out before even reaching Pansy. Wow… That was so embarrassing-!

"Incarcerous!" Pansy attempted to bind Daphne with ropes, but the blonde raised another shield to defend herself, knowing that she couldn't even hope to outmanoeuvre the Spell. "Finite! Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Flipendo!"

As soon as her shield was shattered, Daphne threw herself to the side, quickly rolling about in the sand to avoid Pansy's onslaught. Already on her last leg, Daphne managed to shoot up to one knee and raise another shield, letting out a shaky breath as a stunner smashed against it. That was close! I can't keep up with her for much longer! Everything hurts!

"Finite!" Pansy once again utilized the General Counter-Spell to destroy Daphne's only defence, before aiming her wand at the sand beneath the blonde.

With a flick of the wrist, Pansy Non-Verbally cast the Levitation Charm on the sand, firing it upwards and surprising Daphne. The sand got everywhere, into her hair and into her clothes, and worst of all, into her eyes, effectively blinding her from the stunner that hit her right in the gut, taking away her breath and her consciousness.

---

Daphne jerked awake, as if someone had dumped a bucket of water on her in her sleep, looking around in a panic. What happened? Ow, my stomach… Feels like I got punched by a Troll-…

"Easy there," Madam Pomfrey whispered, sitting by her side. "You took a nasty Stupefying Charm to the stomach. Try to relax, all right?" Oh… I-… I lost… "How's your neck? Does it hurt? Your landing left a lot to be desired."

"No… I'm fine…" Daphne croaked, staring ahead with a blank look. I came so close…

Pansy was still in the sandpit, grinning from ear-to-ear as the crowd cheered her on. Daphne felt a strong pang of jealousy, which was promptly followed by a sense of shame and embarrassment. She wanted to be happy for her friend, but, at the same time, losing the D-Rank Tournament in the finals hurt more than just her ego. I really thought I had this in the bag, but, in the end, I still came up short-…

"You did well, Daphne," Madam Pomfrey suddenly said, as if she'd read the girl's mind. "However, I would caution you not to push your Magical Core further than its limit in the future."

"My Magical Core?" Daphne asked weakly, afraid to even think of her parents' reaction to her loss. Father must be so embarrassed… A Greengrass losing to a Parkinson… He's probably already left…

"Your Duel against Ginny," Madam Pomfrey reminded her, giving her shoulder a squeeze and making her wince. Ow! "Exhaustion can lead to injury much sooner than you realize. Don't push yourself further than your Core can allow." Madam Pomfrey then helped Daphne up to her feet, supporting her weight. "Come, I'll take you to Professor Hagrid. He'll help you to the Hospital Wing-"

"I want to stay-"

"No, you need to rest," Madam Pomfrey ordered, there was a finality to her tone that made Daphne nervous. "No arguing, understand?"

"I want to support my House, my friends-"

"By straining yourself needlessly?" Madam Pomfrey interjected. "This is not a discussion, Daphne. I am ordering you, as the Matron of Hogwarts, to bedrest." Brilliant… Not only did I lose, but I have to leave as well… What a mess…

Struggling to hold her head up high, Daphne let Madam Pomfrey guide her towards Professor Hagrid. The towering gamekeeper waved at them, smiling the friendliest of smiles as they approached. This might be my only chance to see how mother and father took my loss. Drawing in a deep breath to steady her nerves, Daphne shot a look up to where they were. Her mother was smiling down at her encouragingly, seemingly unbothered by her defeat, whereas her father was nowhere to be seen. He really left, then… I suppose, he had no reason to stay given that his heir is a perpetual disappointment…

Daphne looked back ahead, feeling her eyes sting. I know I didn't want to win for his sake, but still… He really just up and left?

"'Ello, Daphne," Professor Hagrid greeted, beaming at her. "That was well done, that was! Real valian' effort!" It wasn't good enough…

"…Thank you, Professor," Daphne muttered, composing herself somewhat. Not in public, Daphne. A Greengrass never shows weakness in front of others, not even when they're at their lowest.

"Take her to Cedric as well, Hagrid," Madam Pomfrey instructed. "He'll find her a bed and sort her out like the others." Diggory?

"Yeh can coun' on me," Professor Hagrid gave a nod, taking custody of Daphne. "Come alon', Daphne. Let's get yeh inside, eh? To a nice, proper bed."

Letting herself be led, Daphne left the Quidditch Pitch behind and made her way out to the grounds, eyeing the castle in the distance with a forlorn expression. As wretched as I feel, I should make sure to keep it to myself. Pansy won, and as her friend, I should be proud of her. I won't mope in front of her-…

"Are yeh all right there?" Professor Hagrid asked, placing his large hand on her shoulder.

"…I really wanted to win, Sir," Daphne whined before she could stop herself, feeling increasingly more frustrated about her loss. Bloody Ginny Weasley… She ruined everything!

"Oh…" Professor Hagrid muttered, giving her a sorry smile. "Well, yeh did yer best, and that's what's important. Everyone was mighty impressed with yer skill, even old Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape too, though he'd ne'er show it."

"Really?" she was surprised to hear that, looking up at him.

"Really," Professor Hagrid promised, smiling more fully. "Yer gonna grow up to be a strong witch, there's no doubt in my mind about it. Don't beat yerself up about losin' too much. That won't help yeh at all." Right… "Now, let's get yeh to the Hosp'tal Wing, shall we?"

"Okay-" Daphne started, but stopped when she heard quickened footsteps approaching them from behind.

"Gamekeeper, are you escorting my daughter to the Hospital Wing?" Sebastian Greengrass questioned, freezing Daphne in her spot. He wasn't in the stands! Where did he come from?! "If so, I'll be relieving you of your duty. I know the way, and I will take her there myself." He doesn't sound cross, but then again, he never shows how he feels when he talks to strangers.

"Madam Pomfrey asked me to do it," Professor Hagrid pointed out, looking between her and her Lord father. I should say something before father loses his temper.

"It's all right, Sir," Daphne spoke up, straightening her back. "My father wants to speak to me in private, that's all."

"Are yeh sure?" Professor Hagrid asked, as if he could sense her reluctance.

"I'm sure."

"Well, then… All right, I suppose," Professor Hagrid gave her another smile, before looking to Sebastian. "She needs her rest, yeh understand? Straight to the Hosp'tal Wing. No detours."

Sebastian stared through the gamekeeper, not even acknowledging his presence anymore. Professor Hagrid left without another word, and once he was out of earshot, the Greengrass patriarch turned his attention towards his eldest daughter. And here I thought this day couldn't get any worse… Is he going to lecture me? Or, insult me? I'm not too sure, if I'm being honest. Probably both-…

"Come, daughter," he ordered, offering her his arm.

She took it without a word, and they began making their way towards Hogwarts. Neither of them said a word as they crossed the grounds, but just when the silence started to become unbearable, her father came to a sudden stop. Here it comes…

"That tree over there," Sebastian started, pointing towards an old oak with a bench under its shade. "That's where your mother and I used to meet up after curfew." Huh?! "It was her idea, of course. Breaking the rules always thrilled her, but I suppose, I was no better. I never once refused her, after all." Daphne didn't even want to imagine what they got up to in the dark, and so, she remained perfectly silent. "Sometimes, I wish we had never left Hogwarts… Those innocent days have become precious to me, but life moves on. It has to." Um… Where is this going? Is he just reminiscing-? "You fought well today, Daphne. I'm proud of you."

Daphne blinked repeatedly, wondering if her hearing had been damaged by Pansy's stunner. "…You are?"

"Yes. Have you ever known me to say things I don't mean?"

"But I lost, father…" Daphne reminded him, feeling a pit form in her stomach. "I thought you'd be… embarrassed… Not proud…"

Sebastian let go of her arm, moving in front of her to get a better look at her face. She averted her gaze out of respect, but he gently raised her head back up by her chin. He was smiling softly, which put Daphne more at ease. He's really not upset with me?

"I've always been hard on you," Sebastian said, a hint of regret in his voice. "I thought that, by holding you to the highest standard, I'd help you achieve your best self. I truly believed that I was helping you, not hindering you. However, I'm starting to see that I was wrong in my approach. My own father never truly cared for me. He was content with my existence as long as I stayed out of his way. I didn't want to be like him when I became a father, do you understand?" Daphne gave a weak nod, just staring at him. "I'm sorry that I've pushed you to believe that you're not good enough, Daphne, but I want you to know that I don't feel that way. You are my eldest, my heir, and you are the apple of my eye. You always will be. There is no one in this world who could ever hope to replace you in my heart. No one."

Daphne was left speechless; it was quite jarring to hear such high praise from her father when she had done nothing to earn it. Her eyes began to sting, again, and instinctively, she averted her gaze for a second time. He's going to make me cry… Her father gently pulled her into a hug, pressing her face into his fine robes and holding her close. Daphne began to sniffle, unable to recount the last time he had been so kind towards her.

"I'm sorry I lost…" Daphne sobbed, unable to contain her disappointment any longer. "You and mother came… all this way, and I lost-…"

"You might not have won today, but you fought your hardest until the very end," Sebastian whispered, stroking her hair. "That's more important than anything else. You were strong, daughter, and that's all I've ever wanted from you. Your mother and I are proud of you, so don't apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry for, not a single thing."

Daphne nodded meekly, wrapping her arms around his back and crying into his chest. He held her in silence, letting her get her overwhelming emotions out of her system, all the while stroking her hair as he used to when she was little. Despite his words, she still felt gutted about losing, and it took her well over ten minutes to begin recollecting herself.

When she finally stepped away from him, she felt utterly spent. I just want to sleep. I've never felt so tired before.

"Here," her father offered her his handkerchief.

"…Thank you," Daphne accepted it, wiping her eyes clear. "I'm sorry about your robes, father-"

"They are just clothes," he smiled, taking her by her spare arm. "Come, let's get you to a bed. You're shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane."

She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. A strange sort of fatigue was currently washing over her, no doubt due to her exhausting her Magical Core. They restarted their journey, a comfortable silence falling between them. However, as they reached the Main Courtyard, her father broke the silence by clearing his throat.

"I would like you to start owling me, again," he all but whispered, making her tense up. "I know I hurt you when I found out about your poor behaviour towards your mother and sister… I was overly harsh, and you became the lightning rod for my other frustrations, and for that, I am sorry. But, daughter, don't cut me out… Not right now."

Daphne looked to him, noting that his expression gave away nothing about his inner turmoil. He must miss Ron, and me no longer owling him must be hurting him more than I realized.

"Are you really going to help that tribe?" Daphne asked, stopping them both. "Are you going to atone to them, as mother said?"

"I will try, but what I did was unforgivable," he smiled a sorry smile. "Still, I will try, but if they turn me away, I will not blame them."

"What if they try to get revenge, instead?" Daphne had to ask, not hiding her concern.

"Actions have consequences, daughter," Sebastian said simply, not really answering her question. "It is time for me to face mine." And what about us?! If they kill you, what happens to your family?!

"You can't, then, father," Daphne urged, despite feeling guilty for it. "We need you, now more than ever!"

"I know, but this is something I must do," Sebastian told her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "In life, there are a few moments that determine a person's future, and I believe, this is another one of those moments in my life. The last time I dealt with this tribe, I made all the wrong decisions. I can't do that, again. Not to them, and not to myself. I must face them, Daphne, or, there is no future for me." What does that mean?! Is someone threatening him?! "Don't be afraid, daughter. A Greengrass must be fearless, always, even when their back is against the wall."

"…It sounds as though you're already in danger, father," Daphne noted, trying her hardest to figure out what he was thinking.

"You need not concern yourself-"

"I want to be concerned," Daphne interrupted, frowning a little. "If you don't want me to cut you out, then don't cut me out, either." He adorned a more serious expression due to her tone, and immediately, Daphne started to regret speaking over him. "I'm sorry, father, I shouldn't interrupt you… I just want to help… You don't have to face this alone."

"You're too young for such matters," Sebastian said, but Daphne shook her head. "Daphne, don't be stubborn."

"I'm your heir, and at some point, you have to start treating me as such," Daphne stood her ground. "I will be fourteen soon, and if you really are in danger, then I really need to start growing up. You're supposed to help me do that, father. How else can I be ready when my time comes? Why won't you even give me a chance to prove myself?" If I were Ron, you wouldn't have any problem with me joining you.

Sebastian drew in a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Because I don't want you to pay for my mistakes, daughter. Only when you become a parent will you understand the need to protect your child. This need cannot be refused, nor can it be reasoned with. Centaurs, for all their supposed wisdom, are dangerous creatures-"

"They are not 'creatures', father," Daphne sighed out, he was going to get himself quartered. "They are a sentient people, an intelligent and proud species. I know you were taught different in your time, which is why you'll need me. I can help you better understand and communicate with them."

"I chose my words poorly, that is all." It's more than that, and we both know it. You think of them as lesser than you, despite all your regrets.

"And what if you choose your words poorly in front of them?" Daphne asked, giving him a pleading look. "Please, let me help you. I won't go into their camp with you, but don't do this alone. I won't get in the way, I promise."

Sebastian pressed his lips together, staring at her. "…Your mother wouldn't allow it, and for good reason. We can work on something less dangerous together, instead." Like what? Some deal you set up and leave me in charge of? No… I'm not settling for less, again.

"No," Daphne refused, much to her father's annoyance. "You either trust me, or, you don't. I don't want to negotiate on this, father. I'm tired of being on the outside all the time… First, it was always about Astoria, and then, it was always about Ron. When do I get a turn? When do I get to be your heir?"

Sebastian drew in a long breath, massaging his forehead. "…Stubborn child…"

"Well, you raised me," Daphne countered, sounding even sassier than she had intended. "I'm not going to back down, today. I've already made up my mind, actually. If you refuse me, then I'll know everything you just said to me out there was a lie."

"Daphne, your mother will kill me in my sleep," Sebastian tried, but Daphne just huffed in response. "Circe have mercy… You and your mother are just as stubborn as each-…" he suddenly stopped, looking as though he was realizing something important. "If I agree to this, then you must promise to do exactly as I say without fail. Do you understand? If I think you are in danger for even a second, our 'partnership' will come to a swift end. Is that fair?"

"You'll let me help you?" Daphne asked, shocked and relieved at the same time. My arguments actually worked?!

"Only as long as you obey my orders," Sebastian answered, giving her a meaningful look. "I am not wrong about them being dangerous, Daphne. It only takes one mistake, and everything you've built can come crumbling down. I will convince your mother to let you join me, but not until I have your word."

"You have my word, father," Daphne promised, even managing to smile a little. "Thank you."

Sebastian merely nodded, already looking concerned for her safety. "Keep this between us for now, please. When I have more information, I will owl you." I can't believe this! He's really going to let me work with him! This is my chance to prove my worth and earn his respect! "Enough stalling, though. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing so you can start recovering."

---

Theodore Nott's POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

"Nice of the Professors to organize lunch, don't you think?" Theo asked Blaise, who was once again staring at Mathias McCumbers. "Merlin's Beard, Blaise… Why don't you just go up there and ask him out, already?"

"What?" Blaise frowned at him, bringing a smug smile to Theo's face. "Prick…"

"Why do you keep staring at the lad, then?" Theo asked, pouring himself some more lemonade. "Has it got something to do with Pansy beating him?" I still can't believe she won D-Rank. Good on her, though. That trick she pulled with the sand against Daphne was pretty clever. "Well?"

Blaise shrugged, looking at his fellow C-Rank competitors before leaning in close. "Have you ever seen someone lose and be that pleased with themselves?" Theo looked to McCumbers; the second year was still grinning like a clown. "You saw Pansy talking to him before their match too, didn't you?"

"What are you implying, mate?" Theo sighed out, not liking where this was going. "That she convinced him to throw the match?" Blaise shrugged, again. "Even if she did, so what? Slytherin still got the House Points, didn't it? What's the harm?" I honestly don't see a problem here.

"Ron won't like it," Blaise told him, and Theo couldn't really disagree. "And when something displeases Ron, harm has a tendency to show up to the party."

"Then, let's not even bring it up, all right?" Theo whispered, noticing that McLaggen was staring at them. "What are you staring at, McLaggen?"

"What are you two snakes whispering about?" McLaggen frowned at them, narrowing his eyes on Theo in particular.

"How we're going to poison you, tonight," Theo smirked, and McLaggen's frown deepened.

"Losers," McLaggen scoffed, looking back to the sandpit. I hope we get paired up against each other. I remember him being a prick to Ron, and in my opinion, he got off lightly. I'd love to fix that.

"Look, Blaise," Theo whispered to the other Slytherin, returning to his previous conversation. "If you bring up your suspicions, and they turn out to be true, things will get really fucked up. Daphne will be furious, whereas Ron… Well, I like Pansy's face just the way it is, you understand?"

"I've no issue with her rigging the game," Blaise started, frowning to himself. "But what I do take issue with is the fact that she did it even though one of her closest friends was a part of it. I mean, doesn't that strike you as wrong? Disloyal, even? Daphne put in the work, same as Pansy, but that work meant nothing because Pansy…" he trailed off.

"What? She cheated?" Theo finished for him.

"Yes."

"Come off it, Blaise," Theo chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're trying too hard to sound like Ron, mate. Pansy used her wit to gain an advantage, and in my book, that's pretty much always the right call. And, let's be honest, Daphne wasn't going to win after her match with Ginny. That little monster tuckered out Daphne right and proper."

"McCumbers would've done the same to Pansy, if had actually put up a fight," Blaise persisted, vexing Theo.

"Then, go and tell Ron," Theo sighed out. "All you will do is piss him off even more than usual. Oh, and Pansy, the girl who's giving you shelter, will hate your guts. Not to mention that we'll have to put up with Daphne being in a bitchy mood for the rest of the school year. Is that what you want?"

"What I want is for Pansy to get her head out of her arse before it's too late," Blaise replied, frowning deeply. "She's getting out of control, Theo, and soon enough, she's going to do something she'll really regret. Why can't you see that?"

"I can see it, but I'm not the sort to go around telling other people what to do," Theo frowned back, noticing that Potter was now looking at them. "Can you Gryffindors fuck off, please? Don't you understand what a private conversation is?" Potter raised his hands in mock surrender, looking away without hesitation. "Thank you…" Fucking four-eyed prick. Theo then looked back to Blaise. "Like I was saying… I don't think it's our job to dictate how Pansy lives her life. For Merlin's sake, Blaise, she just lost her entire family. And, if that's not bad enough, she bloody hated them to boot. They constantly tried to control her, especially her mother, but now, she's suddenly free to do as she pleases. She was always going to get out of control, because all she's ever wanted was to make her own choices. She's not going to listen to anyone telling her to slow down, all right? So, just leave it be, before you fuck things up for yourself. You really can't afford to worry about other people right now, not with your mother still out there."

Blaise drew in a sharp breath, something dangerous flashing behind his eyes. I'm sorry… Don't hit me… I shouldn't have brought her up-… "You might be right, Theo, but don't tell me to not worry about one of my friends. I have nothing left. Nothing. Just you lot." Theo's expression softened at that, and he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. "Pansy is going to land herself into serious trouble if she keeps this up, and if we let her, then we'll end up just like we did after Trace got hurt. Helpless, and heartbroken. I'm not going through that, again."

"Are you really going to out her?" Theo asked, not looking forward to the consequences.

"No, but I will confront her when she's alone," Blaise answered coolly, looking away. "I was going to ask you to join me, but you know what? There's no point. You will always put your wants above the needs of others, even your friends. That's just who you are." What the fuck, mate? That was really uncalled for… Merlin's Beard, I preferred it when he was just keeping to himself and moping around…

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Theo shifted in his spot, still thinking about Blaise's harsh words in regards to his character. It was nothing new, of course, as Theo was often accused of only caring about himself, especially by Millie before she had selfishly tried to protect a pair of slavers, but now, it appeared that even Ron and Blaise saw him in such a poor light. What did Ron call me the other day? Self-serving and cold-blooded… Tsk… That's really bloody unfair… I've had his back through thick and thin, but just because I don't agree with everything that comes out of his mouth, I'm labelled as scum. And then, there's Blaise… For someone who rarely even talks, he can be so self-righteous. It's obvious that he doesn't like Pansy acting however she pleases because that's what his mother does. He's throwing his own issues at Pansy's feet and making her out to be the problem, and that's pathetic-…

"Thank you all for your patience!" Professor Lupin's voice suddenly rang out, addressing both the crowd and the competitors. "The C-Rank Quarterfinals will begin, now! I'm told that we're a little behind schedule, so let's not waste another moment! Just as with D-Rank, the matches have been randomized, and they are as follows! Theodore Nott vs. Eddie Carmichael! Blaise Zabini vs. Cormac McLaggen! Harry Potter vs. Mandy Brocklehurst! Barbara Miller vs. Terry Cornfoot!" Brilliant, I'm up first, then. Still, Eddie isn't exactly fit, so it should be an easy win for me. "Theodore Nott and Eddie Carmichael, please come up!"

The crowd cheered in excitement, eager to watch children pelt each other with all manner of Spells. Theo put on his most charming smile as he walked to the sandpit, raising his hands to his sides and looking to the clamouring Slytherins. A pair of fourth year girls blew whistles at him, uplifting his mood, and soon enough, all thoughts of his spat with Blaise were gone. He had a job to do, and nothing was going to stop him from getting Slytherin those House Points. Coming to a stop at the centre of the ring, Theo looked to his father, who had come to support him completely sober.

Cornelius Nott smiled proudly; his eyes filled with mirth because of his son's antics. I'm glad to see him here, but… I don't know… Soon enough, I'm also going to have to confront him about his views… Views I no longer agree with… That's not going to be a fun conversation, that's for certain.

"You ready, Nott?" Carmichael asked, the fourth year was both taller and broader than Theo.

"Oh, I'm ready," Theo smirked, drawing his wand. "Your scams aren't going to help you, now."

"I don't run scams," Carmichael grumbled, frowning. "Everything I sell is legit, all right?" You're a fucking con-artist, mate. How you made it into Ravenclaw is beyond me.

"Boys, are you ready to start?" Professor Lupin asked, looking between them. "Do you need me to go over the rules with you?" Both boys shook their heads, eager to get started. "Very well, then. Begin!"

"Oscausi!" Carmichael chanted, starting the Duel with a Dark Charm. Nice!

Theo smirked as he side-stepped the white light hurtling towards him, reminding himself that using minimal energy whilst dodging was optimal. "Periculum!"

The Flare-Charm shot past Carmichael, doing its intended job and temporarily blinding the fourth year due to how intense the light it produced was. Carmichael wasted no time in raising a shield while his eyes readjusted, which gave Theo ample time to cast Serpensortia, the Snake-Summoning Spell. A robust European Adder flew out of Theo's wand, landing between him and Carmichael. Get him, boy! Bite his fucking ankles! The serpent hissed violently at Carmichael, causing the blood to drain from the fourth year's face. The Adder then began slithering towards its prey with malicious intent, and the boy shrieked in response, making Theo and the Slytherins burst into laughter. Why is everyone so scared of snakes? They're cute! This strategy would never work on a Slytherin-…

"Stupefy!" Carmichael fired a stunner at the approaching snake, missing due to poor aim. "Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupe-!"

"Expelliarmus!" Theo disarmed Carmichael mid-Spell, shocking the Ravenclaw. Never stood a fucking chance! Damn, I'm so fucking good that it's honestly just unfair to all other men!

"Match!" Professor Lupin called, while Professor Snape Vanished the Adder Non-Verbally, a twisted smirk on his face.

The Slytherins burst into applause and cheers, whereas the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors booed just as loudly. Theo honestly didn't care about what sort of attention his swift victory brought him, he only cared that he was at the centre of it all. People love me, and those who don't are jealous of me!

"Professor, I have ophidiophobia!" Carmichael clamoured, pointing a finger at Theo. Huh? What's-…? What did he say, again? "He cheated! He must've known! I demand a rematch!" As if that would end any differently for you. Get out of here!

Professor Lupin looked to Theo, studying him closely before approaching him. "Theodore, a word, please?"

"About what?" Theo asked, immediately looking to Professor Snape, who was already limping over, for support.

"What is this about, Lupin?" Professor Snape demanded, scowling.

"Did you know Eddie has ophidiophobia prior to the match?" Professor Lupin questioned, ignoring his fellow overseer.

"Is that a disease?" Theo asked in response. "Either way, I've no idea what he's on about. I was just using the snake as a distraction. If he ignored it, then it would've bitten him. If he ignored me, then… Well, you already saw what happened."

"…I see."

"It doesn't matter whether he knew, or, not, Lupin," Professor Snape all but snarled. "Last time I checked, doing research on your opponents isn't against the rules. Plus, how could he even know that he would be facing Carmichael? We randomized the matches, didn't we?"

"You make some good arguments," Professor Lupin conceded with a smile, which seemed to irk Professor Snape even more than Theo being questioned. "Just making sure that there is no foul play here, that's all. Good work, Theodore. That was a clever use of the Snake-Summoning Spell. You don't see it very often. Ten points to Slytherin." Um… Really? Well, cheers!

Professor Snape drew in a sharp breath, storming away without uttering another word. Professor Lupin's smile widened as he patted Theo on the shoulder, gesturing him to return to the remaining competitors. You're all right, Sir!

"I'm sorry, Eddie, but that was fair play," Professor Lupin looked back to Carmichael, who grunted like an ape before storming off as well. "Blaise Zabini and Cormac McLaggen, your turn is up! Make your way over, please!"

Theo crossed the sandpit with a satisfied smirk, slowing down as he neared Blaise. "Hex him for Ron, won't you?"

"I will," Blaise whispered, not breaking his stride. Looks like we'll be facing each other before we can take out Potter. Damn shame, but it's nothing to stress about. Potter's name is legend, sure, but he himself is nothing impressive. Slytherin is going to win every single Rank, and then, everyone will know that we're the superior House.

---

Blaise Zabini's POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

"Hope you're ready to taste sand, Zabini," McLaggen smirked smugly, hopping up and down eagerly.

"I've tasted your mother's breakfasts, so it won't be anything new," Blaise retorted icily, smirking when McLaggen grit his teeth. He's either really energetic, or, too stupid to realize that wasting all his strength in this match will only hurt him in the next one.

"You two don't need me to repeat the rules, do you?" Professor Lupin asked, his eyes lingering on McLaggen. "Cormac?"

"I know the rules," McLaggen 'chuckled', eyeballing Blaise. "If anything, you should be worried about the Slytherin cheating, not the Gryffindor." What exactly has given this buffoon such an inflated ego? I'm going to enjoy removing that smirk off his face.

"I will follow the rules, Sir," Blaise assured the scarred Professor, his voice entirely indifferent.

"Good, because I'll be watching you both carefully," Professor Lupin sighed out, shaking his head. "I want a clean match, all right? Leave the House Rivalry out of it, it'll only hurt your chances of winning. Now… Begin!"

"Stupefy!" McLaggen roared, throwing a rather powerful stunner at Blaise.

The Slytherin stepped to the left, letting the stunner blow past him with utter indifference on his face. "Shouting doesn't make your Spells any stronger, McLaggen. Didn't McGonagall teach you that?"

"How about you fight back with your wand instead of your mouth!" McLaggen fired back, the tip of his wand glowing green. "Sternius!" The Sneezing Charm? Really?

Once again, Blaise stepped aside, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "That's an incredibly slow-moving Charm, McLaggen. Didn't McGonagall teach you the basics of Duelling? At this range, it'd be smarter to use fast-moving Spells, such as the Disarming Charm and Stupefy."

"Will you shut up?! I don't need your advice!" McLaggen snapped, clearly bothered that the Duel wasn't as epic as he wanted it to be. He just wants to show off. To him, this is just some competition he can use to prop himself up. That's why he'll lose to me, because for me, this isn't just a competition. This is everything. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!" Blaise dodged each Spell with minimal effort, looking more and more bored with each step. "Locomotor Mortis!"

"Protego," Blaise raised a shield, easily blocking the wide-hitting Curse. "Depulso."

"Finite!" McLaggen managed to find the right counter to the shield heading his way, shattering it. "Impedimenta!"

"Protego. Depulso."

"Finite!" McLaggen all but barked, glaring at Blaise right after. "Is that all you can do, Zabini?! Fight back properly!" Why? This is making you angry, and angry people make more mistakes. "Mimblewimble! Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Mutatio Skullus! Obscuro!"

As Blaise dodged the final Spell, the Gryffindors began to boo him loudly. Soon enough, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joined in, growing impatient with his lack of action. McLaggen grinned, no doubt assuming that such a reaction would matter to Blaise, but when the unbothered Slytherin showed no signs of giving in to peer-pressure, the overconfident Gryffindor began to grit his teeth. I'm not giving you a chance to show off, no matter how hard you try to make me. I'm just here to win, that's it.

"Did the Weasel teach you to be a coward, huh?!" McLaggen sneered, his face turning blood-red. What did you just say? "Figures! Everyone knows he's only in A-Rank because the Professors favour him-!"

"Herbivicus," Blaise frowned, surprising McLaggen with the sudden Spell.

The older boy dodged to the side, not realizing that the Gardening Charm wasn't even aimed at him. As planned, it hit the sand just behind McLaggen, and within a heartbeat, thick grass shot out of the sand and latched itself around the Gryffindor's ankle.

"Shit-"

"Levicorpus," Blaise cast the Dangling Jinx, planning to use it in combination with Herbivicus to break one of McLaggen's legs.

"Protego!" McLaggen managed to raise a shield in time, before trying his best to rip his ankle free. "Stupid plants! Let go!"

"Finite. Entomorphis."

As soon as McLaggen's subpar shield was blown apart, the purple-coloured Insect Hex hit him square in the chest. McLaggen screamed in pain as he fell onto his hands and knees, his body trembling horribly as two feelers began to grow out of his skull. The crowd gasped with a mixture of shock and disgust as a chitinous shell grew from where the Hex had landed, tearing up his clothes as it covered his body and mouth, giving him the off-putting appearance of a human-insect hybrid. Insult me all you like, but don't you dare insult him. You haven't earned the fucking privilege to even speak of him.

"Match!" Professor Lupin stepped in just as Blaise was preparing another terrible Hex, swiftly setting about in undoing the Slytherin's fine work.

The Slytherins exploded into cheers, most of them laughing at McLaggen despite the rest of the crowd feeling troubled by what they were seeing. Blaise looked to the only Professor whose opinion actually mattered to the Slytherins, feeling at ease when he saw another cruel smirk on Professor Snape's face. Good. I won't be getting into trouble, then.

Without wasting another second, Blaise started making his way back to the other C-Rank competitors, noticing that, of all the Slytherins, Theo was laughing the hardest. He got his wish. I used the foulest Hex I know.

---

Harry Potter's POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for McLaggen, despite not being very fond of him. Sure, he was a loud-mouthed braggart, and he had a history of antagonizing the Slytherins, but Zabini had gone too far. And he doesn't even realize it. Or, worse, he doesn't care. And then, there's Nott… What he finds funny about someone being in pain is beyond me. Slytherins… There's just something wrong with all of them, especially their Head of House.

"Harry Potter and Mandy Brocklehurst, you're up!" Remus beckoned, while McLaggen was carried away by Pomfrey on a floating stretcher.

Harry and Brocklehurst travelled to the centre of the pitch, and while she stretched and mentally prepared herself to face the Boy-Who-Lived, he was approached by Remus. "Remus? Is McLaggen going to be all right?"

"Professor Lupin, Harry…" Remus reminded him, smiling a little. Oh, sorry. "And yes, he'll be all right. He won't be happy when he's back to his normal self, but there won't be any lasting damage. What about you? Are you ready?"

"I am," Harry gave a nod, shooting a quick glance towards Hermione and Neville, and then, towards Sirius. My whole family is here, so I have to give my best performance. I can't let them down. Plus, Dumbledore is watching too, and I have to prove to him that I can be a part of the Order.

"Remember what we went over yesterday, and you'll do fine," Remus smiled more fully, before leaving to check up on Brocklehurst. Breathing is the most important thing in a Duel. Breathing, and staying focused on your opponent's movements. The best time to go on the offensive is when the opponent makes a mistake. Oh, and I have to be more unpredictable with my Spells, as Hermione suggested-…

"Harry, are you there?" Remus asked, waving at him. "We need to get started, now."

"I'm ready, Professor," Harry gave a nod, looking to Brocklehurst. "Good luck."

"You too, Potter," the Ravenclaw smiled faintly, drawing in a sharp breath. "I'm ready as well, Professor."

"Begin!"

"Expelliarmus!" both Harry and Brocklehurst chanted, their Disarming Charms colliding halfway.

Much to Brocklehurst's shock, Harry's Spell tore through hers without losing any speed, before exploding against her chest and sending her flying backwards. The Gryffindors cheered at the top of their lungs, but Harry remained focused on his downed opponent. She still holding onto her wand as tightly as she could, even though she was struggling to catch her breath. I could stun her when she's down, finish this quickly-… No, that wouldn't be right, would it? I should give her a chance to fight back. I don't want anyone making fun of her after our Duel, especially not the Slytherins.

Brocklehurst groaned as she stood back up, holding her ribs with her spare hand. Harry tightened his grip on his wand, controlling his breathing as he waited for her to recover hers. The Slytherins jeered and laughed at him, while his own House-mates were now openly questioning his decision to hold back. Remember what Remus said. Don't worry about who's watching you, just worry about who's in front of you.

Brocklehurst shot him a weak nod, a somewhat startled look on her face, as she aimed her wand at him, again. "Stupefy!"

Harry stepped to the left, before returning fire. "Expelliarmus!"

The Ravenclaw quickly dodged the Disarming Charm, as if she was expecting it. "Levicorpus!"

"Stupefy!"

"Inflatus!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Incendio!"

"Protego! Stupefy!"

"Use different Spells, Harry!" Hermione cheered, and admonished, from the stands, causing his face to flush. She's right, I'm being predictable, again.

It wasn't that he had forgotten her advice, of course, but the truth was that Magic could be incredibly dangerous, as he had just witnessed from Zabini's cruel treatment of McLaggen. At least, with Stupefy and Expelliarmus, I won't seriously hurt someone. I won't make them scream in agony. I won't burn them, or, break their bones. Even Expecto Patronum can be dangerous, if you lose control of it like I did against Bulstrode. One terrible mistake, and someone could lose their life. Or, even worse, they could end up in St. Mungo's like Nev's poor parents.

And yet, despite his sound reasoning, he also understood that he had to win today against those who didn't share his reservations, because how else could he prove to Dumbledore that he was capable of fighting against Dark Wizards in the future? I'm just going to have to be very careful, I suppose. Careful, and in control.

"Aguamenti!" Brocklehurst chanted, firing a jet of water at Harry.

"Protego!" Harry raised a shield, withstanding the pressure with extreme ease. "Everte Statum!"

"Protego!" Brocklehurst blocked the translucent, orange Spell, her shield cracking from the impact and pushing her back. Now's my chance!

"Glacius!" Harry chanted, aiming his wand at her feet as she was recovering her footing.

A thick layer of ice formed over her shoes, rooting her to her spot and leaving her with only one option to protect herself with. "Protego!"

"Finite!" Harry swiftly countered, shattering her only source of defence. "Expelliarmus!"

The Disarming Charm landed with pin-point accuracy, and the Ravenclaw's wand was sent flying into the air, bringing a decisive end to the Duel.

"Match!" Remus announced, though Harry barely heard him over the roaring Gryffindors.

The crowd swiftly followed, everyone with the exception of the Slytherins, making Harry a little uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly fond of the attention his legend brought him, and so, he decided to block them all out, especially those who were chanting his name in reverence. Instead, he made his way over to where Brocklehurst's wand had landed, picking it up and dusting the sand off of it.

"Here," Harry approached the girl, who was having her shoes defrosted by Remus.

"…Thanks," she accepted her wand back, appearing dismayed. "Your Spellwork is really strong, Potter. You must practice a lot."

"Not really," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

"…Oh…" Brocklehurst muttered, her face falling even more so. What? What did I say wrong?

"You both put on quite the show," Remus spoke up, giving Harry a strange, but amused, look. "Especially you, Mandy. You have quite the arsenal. I'm impressed."

"Really?" she blinked, before smiling weakly. "Thanks, Professor. I spent some time practising with my friends. I never thought I'd make it this far, if I'm being honest."

"Keep it up, and you could win next year," Remus smiled encouragingly, and she nodded in response. "Your feet are free, now. Please, go see Madam Pomfrey. She'll want to look you over just in case."

"Thank you, Professor," Brocklehurst said gratefully, before looking to Harry, again. "Good luck with your other Duels, Potter. Don't let the Slytherins win, okay?"

"Um… Sure, I'll try my best," Harry replied, giving her an awkward wave as she left. "Right… I'm going to go wait with the others, Remu-… Professor."

"Go on," Remus chuckled, giving his arm an affectionate pat. "And, Harry… Good on you. That was a noble thing you did, and I'm proud of you."

Harry blinked, confused. "What noble thing?" What's he on about?

"Go, before Snape comes over and gives us both an earful." Yeah, knowing him, he'll probably accuse me of cheating. Honestly, that's another reason why I want to win, now. I want to see the tantrum he'll throw when I beat his precious Slytherins.

---

Theodore Nott's POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Late Afternoon)

"I'm just saying that it's very convenient, that's all," Theo continued, leaning back in his chair. "They 'randomized' the matches, but so far, all I'm seeing is that the Slytherins are being forced to fight each other. There's a conspiracy here, Blaise, and you know it."

"And I'm not saying that you're wrong, I'm merely pointing out that there's nothing we can do about it," Blaise drawled, watching Miller and Cornfoot's dull match with a bored expression. "The Ranked Tournaments have been a joke, all in all. Our ranks have nothing to do with our actual skill and talent, but rather, what the Professors think of us. It's our 'potential' that they're focusing on, not what we're actually capable of. I mean, why is it that Brocklehurst, a bookworm, was put in C-Rank, whereas Daphne and Pansy were put in D-Rank? Because she studies more than them? Because she spends her free time reading at the Library? They'd easily beat her, wouldn't they?" They really would. "The Professors also want to have an equal amount of House representation per rank, so that no House wins a rank by a landslide. Us being made to compete against each other early on is just another obstacle we have to deal with. There's no use in complaining about it."

"Oh, I know that just as well as you do, but my 'complaining' was just a way to butter you up," Theo smirked, leaning forward. "Blaise, let's be honest here, all right? Potter is no joke. You and I are going to tire each other out, as we always do, but Potter will easily beat Miller. She's a runner, not a fighter. Just look at her up there… Disgraceful. And Cornfoot? He's an invalid. Either way, Potter is going to be in the finals, and one of us will have to face him exhausted. That's not going to end well for Slytherin."

"I know what you're trying to suggest," Blaise looked to him, frowning. "Get that idea out of your head, Theo." Why?! Why be stupid about this?

"If one of us throws the match, then the other can take out Potter," Theo urged, shooting a quick glance towards the Boy-Who-Lived. "Slytherin will benefit, and more importantly, our group will benefit. Think about it. Pansy wins D-Rank. One of us wins C-Rank. Ron wins A-Rank. Those are big notches in our belts, and no one will be able to question how important our year is to Slytherin. We'll get our spot back. We'll be adored-"

"Are you willing to be the one who throws the match?" Blaise asked, and Theo's smirk faltered. "No, you want me to do it, right? What do you think Ron will do to me when he finds out I willingly lost?"

"He doesn't have to know," Theo countered quickly. "He said he wanted us to beat Potter, remember? Before he took Tracey back to St. Mungo's? Well, being smart is how we beat him-"

"He wants us to beat Potter without resorting to shortcuts," Blaise whispered coolly, looking away. "I'm done with this conversation, Theo. Throw the match if Slytherin is so important to you, but leave me out of this scheme." He's acting like some damn Gryffindor! Why?! First, he gets mad with Pansy, and now, this?!

"You are being unreasonable-"

"I have a fucking psychopath out there looking for me," Blaise suddenly hissed, the fury on his face silenced Theo. "This isn't some school competition for me! I need to prove to myself that I can stand on my own two feet! Like a man! Like Ron! I need to know that I made the right call!" Blaise then drew in a sharp breath, easing off before he garnered too much attention. "For someone who enjoys all the perks Ron brings, you still think you know better than him. Well, you don't, and neither does Daphne. He's smarter than us. He's wiser than us. He's stronger than us. No matter what horseshit we used to tell yourselves, he's proven that his way works, and I'm done denying it. If he says that shortcuts lead to fuckups, then I'm going to believe him. If he tells me to run five extra laps every morning, I'll do it. I'll become strong, and one day, I'll face my mother and send her packing to Azkaban, where she belongs." Blaise then looked ahead, his lips trembling from either anger, or, fear, Theo couldn't tell. "…This isn't some stupid game for me. This is my life, and I'm not throwing it away."

It wasn't often that Theo was left speechless, but right now, he honestly didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected Blaise to go off like that, especially in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. I guess, there's no use in trying to convince him… Fucking hell… If we lose to Potter, Ron will string us up by our feet. If I throw the match so that Blaise can win the whole thing, and Ron finds out what I did, he'll put me through a table. This is so fucked… We're supposed to be House of the cunning, not the House of the stubborn-…

"Match!" Professor Lupin announced, and Theo looked to see Miller searching for her wand in the sand. Cornfoot won, then. That's just perfect. Potter's got a free ticket to the finals. Fuck… Him being allowed to take Millie's spot is utter garbage! "Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, your turn is up!"

Both boys stood up and made their way over, their House-mates cheering them on excitedly, though Theo could only focus on his friend. I've never seen him so focused before. This won't be like our sparring sessions, I take it. Fine, then… No shortcuts. I'd only be poisoning this for him by throwing the match, I reckon. May the best man win, and then, may he win again after.

They faced each other with their wands by their sides, bowing to each other before taking their respective stances. Blaise was a lot more squared, his feet rooted strongly on the ground, whereas Theo was more relaxed, ready to move in any direction at any given moment. Blaise tends to beat me when I don't move around enough, so I'm going to have to go all out. It's not ideal, given that I'll still have to face Potter, but holding back now will get me thrown out early.

"Are you two prepared to give your best?" Professor Lupin asked, smiling fondly at them. Don't smile at us, you ugly prick. I bet you're the one who convinced that senile crackpot to let your precious, little Potter back in. So bloody unfair…

"We're ready, Sir," Blaise answered for them both, drawing in a deep breath.

"Then, you can begin!" Professor Lupin announced, much to the crowd's pleasure.

Theo and Blaise both fired stunners at each other, swiftly raising their shields and sending them forth, all without uttering a word. The shields clashed in the middle, releasing a shockwave of errant Magic that blew sand everywhere. Damn, we had the same idea! Quickly recovering, Theo chained a series of Jinxes and Hexes together, moving backwards in order to put some distance between himself and Blaise. However, his friend knew all too well that Theo had the advantage at a distance, as it gave him more opportunities to use his feet instead of his wand, and so, Blaise followed with expert, well-timed dodges.

"Herbivicus!" Theo chanted, aiming his wand to Blaise's left, but the dark-skinned wizard raised another Non-Verbal shield and sent it forward, destroying Theo's Spell in the process. "Finite! Depulso!"

A gust of sand blew over Blaise, who covered his eyes and rolled to the right, anticipating the Non-Verbal stunner heading his way. Realizing that Blaise was hoping to push him all the way to the edge, and win by ring-out, Theo decided to modify his own tactics. I have to be craftier than him! Let him think that his plan is working, and when he lets his guard down to send me over the edge, I'll attack!

Continuing to move backwards, all the while minding the edge, Theo took on a more defensive role. Stunners, Disarming Charms, Knockback Jinxes, and a variety of dangerous Hexes were sent his way, and he acted accordingly to each one. Blaise kept pushing forward, relentless in his pursuit, like a man possessed, but Theo maintained his nerve. I'm getting too close to the edge for comfort! This is where I make my stand! Come on, Nott! Show them what you can do when you're pissed off!

"Protego Maxima!" Theo raised a barrier stronger, and thicker, than any he'd ever produced before, gritting his teeth as pain shot throughout his body. "DEPULSO!"

Like a great wall, it toppled forward instead of shooting forward, threatening to crush Blaise underneath it's immense weight. "Protego!"

In the nick of time, Blaise managed to raise a shield strong enough to withstand the impact, letting out a pained grunt as he fell to one knee. I've got you, now! Theo broke into a sprint, running alongside the edge whilst Blaise held the great barrier in place, though it was already beginning to fade. Theo managed to get into a flanking position in time, however, firing a stunner at Blaise's side. It's over! There's nowhere to run, Blaise-…!

Theo's relief was swiftly turned into horror when Blaise undid his shield, letting the great barrier collapse onto him in favour of not being stunned. You crazy fucker! What the fuck was that?!

"Blaise?!" Theo couldn't help but shout, his concentration breaking completely and making his great barrier vanish alongside it. "Are you-?! Oh, shit!"

Theo ducked, and a stunner blew over his head, singeing his hair. Blaise dragged himself up to his feet, his wand already aimed at Theo. He looked hurt, holding his ribs with his spare hand, however, his eyes held nothing but overwhelming resolve. Theo swallowed thickly; he had not expected Blaise to willingly choose injury over defeat. Damn it, this isn't going to end any time soon, I suppose. I have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Getting control over his breathing, Theo began chaining his Spells, again, putting Blaise on the defensive this time. Much to his friend's credit, Blaise managed to avoid most Spells without using a shield. Sweat rolled down both their foreheads, but they kept at it, settling into a rally that made the crowd grow wild. Just go down, already! You're fucking us both over!

"Finite! Expelliarmus!" Theo chanted, growing wide-eyed when Blaise didn't even bother to dodge the Disarming Charm.

"Diffindo!" Blaise fired the Severing Charm, breaking up the rally and taking Theo's Spell to the chest just so he could land a blow himself.

While Blaise was flung backwards, landing on his side with his wand still in hand, Theo felt white-hot pain shoot up his leg as the Severing Charm left a bloody gash over his right thigh. MOTHERFUCKER! I didn't even get a chance to move! Fuck! His eyes welled up with tears as the pain surged throughout his leg, causing him to collapse onto his arse. His heartbeat thumping in his ears was more than enough to drown out the cries of concern from the stands. T-That's my blood, isn't it? Fuck, that's my fucking blood!

"Ep-Episkey…" Theo managed, clenching his teeth as the gash began to close. I could've lost my leg! What the fuck, Blaise?! We're supposed to be friends-…!

"Stupefy!" Blaise grit out, he had dragged himself up, again. Shit!

Theo rolled to the side, abandoning his bloody wound for the time being. His vision blurry from his tears, his right leg unable to hold his weight, Theo was forced to crawl on his back like some dying rodent, using a series of shields to keep himself safe from Blaise's onslaught. I'm fucked! I'm so fucked! Stop it! Get away from me!

"Orbis!" Blaise hit the sand in front of Theo's shield with the Sinking Charm, causing it to turn into ravenous quicksand. NO!

The quicksand's radius grew rapidly, and Theo was caught in it before he could think of a way out, being dragged forward towards its sinking centre. He flailed about helplessly, all the while maintaining his shield, but a well-placed General Counter-Spell and a stunner to the face put an end to his struggle, turning off the lights and bringing an end to the pain.

---

Harry Potter's POV

Saturday 24th April, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Late Afternoon)

"Stupefy!" Cornfoot panted, the fourth year Hufflepuff was already red in the face.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry chanted, ducking under Cornfoot's stunner.

"Protego!" Cornfoot shouted, his shield promptly getting blown to smithereens, making him fall onto his back. He was already spent from his previous Duel. This doesn't feel right, or, fair.

Harry let out a long breath, waiting for his opponent to stand back up. Cornfoot wiped the sweat off his brow, he was quickly reaching his limit. Harry took a step closer, waiting for the Hufflepuff to take the initiative. He'll make a big mistake soon. I can feel it.

"Expelliarmus…" Cornfoot chanted tiredly, throwing out a dim Disarming Charm.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry fired his own, smiling a little when it tore Cornfoot's apart before smashing into his chest, sending him flying across the sandpit.

The Hufflepuff landed on his back, dropping his wand in the process. Oh… I didn't think it'd end like this. Still, a win is a win, and no one got hurt.

"Match!" Remus announced, much to Gryffindor's delight.

The praise he received was nothing compared to how mental the crowd had been after Zabini and Nott's Duel, even Dumbledore had given them a standing ovation. They're both much stronger than they look, honestly. And ruthless… Zabini is genuinely cold-blooded… How could he hurt his own mate so badly? First, Greengrass, and now, Nott… That's two of Ron's friends who've been sent to the Hospital Wing by their own best friends. I really hope that this isn't because of his influence, but it probably is. He's even more brutal than Zabini when he gets angry. I know that all too well…

"Blaise Zabini, please come up!" Remus called, and Harry turned to face the approaching Slytherin.

The Slytherins cheered at the top of their lungs, as did the Gryffindors, but Harry blocked out all the noise as he studied his next opponent. Zabini was sweating, his clothes were dishevelled, and his feet were dragging. His Duel against Nott was the most intense Duel I've ever witnessed, I reckon. They were going at each other as if they were mortal enemies.

"Blaise, are you fit to compete?" Remus asked, looking worried for him.

"He is fine," Snape hissed, sneering at Zabini. "Stand up straight, boy, and get in position."

Harry frowned, exchanging a glance with Remus. I don't care how much he's sacrificed for the Order. He's still vile, and he has no business being at a school, let alone teaching at one. Zabini straightened his back and moved into place, drawing in a long breath as his gaze became intense. Harry took on his own stance, reminding himself that Zabini was deadly fast because of his impressive skill with Non-Verbal Magic. He might look out of sorts, but if I give him the chance, he'll send me to the Hospital Wing as well.

"This is it, boys," Remus started, looking between them, though his gaze lingered on Zabini. "Are you ready?"

"Ready," Harry answered, whereas Zabini simply gave a nod.

"Then… Begin!"

Zabini instantly fired a Non-Verbal stunner, but Harry swiftly dodged it. He's going to try his best to defeat me as quickly as possible. It's his only chance at winning. As expected, Zabini began chaining Non-Verbal Spells, moving forward with each one in the hopes of giving Harry less time to react. Harry, however, found that his reflexes were more than enough to keep up with Zabini's Spellwork, allowing him to dodge and block whenever necessary. I might be faster than him, but I can't keep up with his Non-Verbal casting! I have to just bide my time until he tires himself out! That's my best hope!

"Finite! Incarcerous!" Zabini chanted, leaving Harry no choice but to dive in order to avoid the wide-reaching ropes. "Stupefy!"

Harry rolled away, shooting up to his feet and bolting to the side, narrowing dodging another stunner. Using his speed and stamina to his advantage, Harry moved back-and-forth like a cat avoiding capture, occasionally managing to fire a Spell of his own. Zabini, despite his fatigue, managed to keep up his assault, though Harry could tell by the Slytherin's expression alone that he was pushing himself too far. He's hurting himself! I have to win this right now!

"Expelliar-!" Harry started, but once again, he was forced to dodge a Non-Verbal stunner. Damn! I need something to distract him!

"Glacius!" Zabini aimed for his feet, no doubt trying to make it impossible for him to keep running about.

"Incendio!" Harry unleashed a wave of fire, which collided against Zabini's Freezing Spell, both Spells cancelling each other out with a loud sizzle. "Expelliarmus!" Zabini dodged to the left, his legs shaking a little at the end. This is my chance! "Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Grunting and groaning, Zabini managed to dodge each Spell, firing a rather weak Non-Verbal stunner in retaliation. It missed Harry by a wide-margin, causing the Gryffindors to burst into laughter and insults. Both Harry and Zabini ignored them, however, their focus fixed on each other. I don't know why, but I want to let him catch his breath. It's unnerving seeing him so exhausted. He's usually always so calm and collected. I need to end this, now.

"Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus!" Harry fired two Disarming Charms in quick succession, aiming one to the left and one to the right.

Shockingly, his simple strategy worked, and Zabini stumbled into the Disarming Charm on the right due to poor judgement as a result of exhaustion, getting hit in the shoulder and being sent rolling through the sand. Harry moved forward swiftly, planning to stun Zabini before he could get back up, but when he saw the Slytherin's pained expression, the fear in his eyes, Harry hesitated. Zabini immediately took the chance to fire a Non-Verbal stunner from the ground, but Harry stepped aside whilst keeping his wand fixed on his downed foe. He wanted to put an end to this, he wanted to give Zabini a reason to stop, but after seeing how hard the other boy was trying, it just felt wrong to finish the Duel in such a way.

So, Harry waited, even as Zabini struggled to rise onto his hands and knees. You can do it… C'mon, just a bit more, Zabini-…

"Finish it, Harry!" Hermione shouted down at him. "You can win! Do it!"

"What are you doing just standing there?!" one of the twins added, and soon after, all the Gryffindors were shouting at him in disbelief.

Once again, however, Harry ignored them, swallowing thickly when Zabini glared at him. "…What are you fucking waiting for, Potter…?" Harry remained silent, which brought a hateful sneer out of Zabini. "…Fuck you… You've no right… to stand there… My friend was supposed to stand there… She deserved to beat me, not you… I-… I have what it takes… I m-made the right choice… The right choice…" What is he saying? I don't understand.

Clenching his jaw, Zabini grunted loudly as he managed to stand back up, his legs wobbling. Harry kept waiting, unable to stop himself from feeling guilty. Zabini wasn't wrong… Harry had lost to Bulstrode, fair and square, but now, here he was. If not for his Duel against Nott, he'd beat me. He deserves to win, not me.

"S-Stupefy…" Zabini managed, but the stunner was barely more than hot air as it blew past Harry.

"Expelliarmus," Harry all but whispered, and Zabini raised a shield instead of bothering to dodge.

Harry's Disarming Charm proved too strong for the shield, however, throwing Zabini onto his back. The Slytherins shouted their outrage, calling for Harry to be disqualified, but the Gryffindors met their demands with outrage of their own, calling for Harry to be proclaimed the victor. Zabini, however, still had his wand in his hand, even if he no longer had the strength to use it, so the final decision rested on Harry's shoulders.

Unsure of what to do, the Boy-Who-Lived looked to Sirius in the stands, and his Godfather gave him an encouraging nod, jerking his head towards the downed Slytherin. He wants me to end this, doesn't he? He wants me to win. Harry then looked to Dumbledore, but the old wizard showed no hint of what he wanted. He was just watching Harry intently, as if trying to read his very thoughts. If I want to be in the Order, then I need to show that I can make the hard choices. Zabini fought well, and although he does deserve to win, I have to join the Order. I can't let Remus and Sirius be out there by themselves, not when I'm the one Voldemort wants.

Harry looked back to Zabini, catching the struggling Slytherin on his knees, shakily aiming his wand at the Gryffindor. There were tears in Zabini's eyes, despite his face showing nothing but his contempt for Harry. I'm sorry…

"Stup-"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry chanted, disarming Zabini, who didn't move an inch even as his wand flew out of his hand.

"Match!" Remus announced, and the Gryffindors burst into an explosion of cheers and applause.

Harry lowered his wand arm, and his eyes, unable to meet Zabini's suddenly distant gaze. The fact that some of Zabini's own House-mates began to jeer at him made things all the worse, making Harry truly grateful that he had been sorted into Gryffindor, instead. He did his absolute best… Isn't that enough? What's wrong with them?

Remus made his way over to Zabini, trying to help the Slytherin up to his feet, only to be shoved away by the boy. Harry blinked, as did Remus, whereas Zabini began limping towards his wand, which lay close to Snape's feet. The Potions Master just sneered at the defeated boy, not moving an inch to help him, even when he grunted in pain as he lowered himself to collect the wand.

"Get out of my sight," Snape suddenly hissed, bringing a dark frown onto Harry's face. Oh, I hate him so much… He's almost as bad as Voldemort himself!

Zabini limped away with his head bowed, crossing the sandpit and heading for the exit. Madam Pomfrey was quick to catch up to him, but just as with Remus, he shoved her away. Unlike Remus, however, she just chased after him, both of them leaving the Quidditch Pitch. I should've surrendered the match… I made the wrong choice…

"Harry James Potter wins the C-Rank Tournament!" Remus abruptly announced, causing the crowd to return to a state of applause. Harry James Potter stole the C-Rank Tournament…

Once again, Harry looked up to Dumbledore, but this time, the old Sorcerer was giving him a sorry smile, as if he could tell just how awful Harry felt for Zabini. I wish you'd given me a different test to prove myself… This was-… This is wrong… I can just feel it in my gut… I've made a terrible mistake.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 25th April, 1994 (Hogwarts Grounds – Early Afternoon)

"We're not going to get into trouble, are we?" London asked, following him through the grounds. "I mean, we're not exactly the sort of people the Professors would want near their students."

"Not to mention that Dumbledore is here," one of the mercenaries added.

"No one will say a thing as long as you lot behave yourselves," Ron assured them, his eyes fixed on the Quidditch Pitch. "Remember what we discussed, all right? London will tend to me, while the rest of you will linger by the exit. Just stand there and look scary, that's all I'm asking of you."

"What if we're approached by a Professor?" another mercenary asked. "What if we're asked to leave?"

"Tell them that you're looking out for me," Ron shrugged. "Tell them that I'm worried about being surrounded. Remind them that I was nearly beheaded not so long ago. Make some shit up. If you need me to solve everything for you, then what the fuck am I paying you for?"

"Fair enough," London sighed out, giving the others a subtle nod. "You can count on us, boss." For your sake, I better be able to. I'm paying you cunts a fucking fortune to sit around all day, aren't I? "So… What are your chances of winning? Would be really embarrassing if you bring us along to show off, and then get tossed around, wouldn't it?" I miss Artyom… I miss the silence. "Boss?"

"What has Artyom told you lot about me?" Ron asked, shooting a cold glance back.

"That we need to do whatever you say without question," London answered for everyone. "That we'd be wise not to anger, or, disappoint you in any way. He-…" she paused, exchanging glances with the others. "…He sounds afraid of you… Fiercely loyal, of course! He'd never break his contract with you, boss! But, still… I've never known him to act this way with a client. It's strange, to say the least."

"There's your answer, then," Ron said, not breaking his stride. "If I do somehow lose, do me a favour and behead me right after. I don't think I could live with the shame of being defeated by a bunch of cretins." This is such a waste of my fucking time, but I promised Professor Snape that I'd secure A-Rank for Slytherin.

Ron frowned a little to himself, his promise didn't really matter now, did it? Not after his parents, and a very drunk Sirius, had given him all the details about yesterday's matches over dinner. Harry won… He actually won C-Rank. Professor Snape is going to be so pissed with me, I just know it, but what else could I have done? I've spent so much time with those two, training them and giving them any advice Madam Roberts shared with me, but they still went and lost. Sure, according to dad, Blaise was really exhausted after his 'epic' Duel against Theo, but that's no excuse for failure! I refuse to accept it! And Sirius… He was so pleased with himself… So fucking smug! Going on and on about Gryffindor being the 'House of warriors'… Fucking idiot won't even acknowledge that Harry only won because the old man wanted him to, that everything was set up to prop Harry up!

Ron drew in a deep breath, using his Occlumency to bolster his mind and push away his darker thoughts. He was still disappointed in Theo and Blaise, sorely disappointed, but he wasn't going to show it. He wasn't going to let them hurt him in any way, because he'd already been hurt enough. Instead, he wanted to take Hermione's, and Madam Pomfrey's, advice and focus more on the positives. Pansy… I really didn't think she'd win D-Rank, but she proved me wrong. She proved everyone wrong. Both Pansy and Daphne came through, and I should reward them. Especially Pansy. Ron's frown turned into a weak smile; he was going to do everything in his power to show Pansy just how proud he was of her. I'm going to uplift her in the House, and I'm going to owl her lots of gifts. I'm even going to invite her to my alliance personally, and have her sit by my side so she can share all her thoughts with me. I know she loves being doted on, and that she wants to be loved and respected for who she is, so I'll do all of that for her. She proved me wrong, and I love her all the more for it.

Nearing the Quidditch Pitch, Ron took the chance to stop and reshuffle his thoughts. There was no use in thinking about anything besides his own Duels, now. He had to win and prove himself the strongest student in Hogwarts, as this feat would serve to further cement his rule within Slytherin. No mercy, no holding back, and no hesitation. I'm going to destroy the competition like they're nothing, so the next time someone like Flint starts getting ideas, they'll remember the pain I'm capable of inflicting on those who challenge me.

"You good, boss?" London asked, and Ron nodded serenely.

"Just focusing," Ron drew in another long breath, searching for tranquillity. "I don't want to fight my schoolmates with anger in my heart. They don't deserve that, but at the same time, I have to be ruthless." Ron drew in another deep breath, feeling his Magic coursing through his veins. "I'm ready."

Making his way into the Quidditch Pitch, Ron spotted Clara and Carey Duelling at the centre of the Conjured sandpit. Lingering by the entrance, he studied his surroundings, noticing that there were no other competitors left in B-Rank, as the seating area Bill had described was empty. And judging by the bored looks on the Gryffindors' faces, I can definitely assume that Carey and Clara are the finalists. Good. Regardless of who wins out of the two, I'll make sure they're both rewarded for their efforts.

"Let's go back outside," Ron turned to leave, surprising his mercenaries.

"Why, boss?" London asked, a quizzical look on her face.

"I want the attention to be on them, not on me. They want to be seen when they win, and I won't take that from them."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Snape limped out of the Quidditch Pitch, frowning deeply as soon as he spotted Ron. Oh, fuck… Here we go…

"Pardon me, you lot," Ron left the mercenaries behind, approaching Snape by the entrance. "Afternoon, Sir-"

"Potter beat your friends," Snape whispered icily, and Ron scratched the back of his neck. "He humiliated Slytherin!" Slytherin? Or, you?

"Yes, I heard."

"Our deal is off, Weasley," Snape sneered, but Ron merely shrugged in response. The ghost in my head knows all your Spells, he told me so himself. I just wanted to learn them from you, because we're supposed to be friends.

"Okay," Ron didn't argue, seeing no point in it. "I gave you my word, and I didn't deliver. I understand. However, I will say this… I reckon you're focusing on the wrong thing here."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yes, you are," Ron stood his ground, keeping his tone civil. "Harry was probably set up to win-"

"Not probably! He was!" Yeah, I figured as much.

"Fine, but still, no one threw their matches for him outright," Ron continued. "He must've fought well to win, even against a spent Blaise. There is a silver lining here, Sir. Harry is the Chosen One, the one destined to defeat the Dark Lord… Shouldn't we be pleased that he's not completely hopeless? Personally, I think, in the grand scheme of things, this is good news. The Headmaster knows what he's about, and we should trust him on this."

"Being made to feel important and talented will do nothing but give him a fat head," Snape countered, sounding increasingly more hostile with each word. "He's just like his damn father! Bumbling through life while everything is just handed to him on a platter!" No… You're wrong about that.

"When Sirius and I rescued him from his Muggle family, he was being kept behind a chained door, like some bloody animal," Ron said, feeling his temper flare. "Before that, he was apparently kept in a broom closet. A fucking broom closet. If anything, Sir, life has smashed him over the head with the platter more often than delivering unearned glory to him." Ron then adorned a sterner expression, knowing that he was about to say something really harsh which could backfire. "If I was responsible for orphaning a helpless, innocent baby, I don't think I could bring myself to hate that child for whatever crimes his father supposedly committed against me."

"What. Did. You. Say?" Snape dashed forward, grabbing Ron by the collar. "Be very careful, boy-"

"No," Ron refused, before gesturing his mercenaries to lower their brandished wands. "I'm not going to pretend to know what your problem is with Harry's 'damn father', but Harry himself has done nothing to you. Not a goddamn thing. And yet, you hate him. You see everything he does, everything he achieves, as some personal slight against you. That is not right. That is not just. Harry is a victim of the Dark Lord, just as much as you and I, but you treat him as if he's the cause of your suffering, and I will not stand for such injustice. You need to grow the fuck up, all right? Even after learning that Harry's destined to die, you still can't understand why the old man wanted Harry to win something for a change? I'm utterly fucked in the head, but even I can understand that, so what's your excuse?" Snape just stared through him, completely silent, but then, he suddenly shoved Ron back and walked away. "You know I'm right, Sir. You had no issues throwing harsh truths my way, so I'm just extending the same courtesy to you."

Ron shook his head and scoffed, while London approached him from behind. "What the fuck is his problem, boss? Does he put his hands on you often? Just say the word, and we'll sort him out right here and now." I like the enthusiasm, but no… He's just a really fucked up person, same as me. I didn't tell him anything he doesn't already know, but he just can't help himself. There's just too much hate and anger within him, and that's punishment enough.

"It's fine," Ron sighed out, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just call the others over, eh? The B-Rank Tournament must've come to an end if he was out here."

"Oi, let's move!" London beckoned them, before giving Ron a strong pat on the back. What the-…? "Good luck out there, boss! We'll be cheering for you!"

"Firstly, don't ever touch me," Ron frowned at her, killing the carefree grin on her face. "And secondly, no cheering. You're supposed to be menacing, remember?"

"Menacing, got it," she gave a nod, though her lips kept quirking upwards. For Merlin's sake… Whatever…

---

Thirty Minutes Later

As expected, all eyes were on him and the mercenaries accompanying him. Most of the crowd was just curious, of course, but there were a select few who seemed rather displeased with his brazenness, his own parents chief among them. Let them stare, they're only doing exactly what I want them to do.

"Here you are, boss," London poured him a glass of lemonade, standing over him and the A-Rank competitors.

"Thank you," Ron brought the cold glass to his lips, subtly enjoying how uncomfortable his 'peers' were because of her intimidating presence. "What's the matter, you lot? Why are you so quiet? Atif? Jack? Cedric, what about you?"

"Why are you here with… these people… Ron?" Percy asked, his eyes lingering on the scar around London's throat. "The Professors aren't happy about this-"

"They aren't?" Ron feigned innocence. "That's such a shame… It's just that I feel so helpless without London, you know? She's my protector."

Percy frowned at him, making him snigger. "This is not funny… What's wrong with you?"

"Mind your tone, lad," London promptly warned him, making him shrink a little. What's with that reaction, huh? You can't give her detention, so you lose your bollocks?

"London, let me introduce you to my House-mates," Ron looked to the Slytherins in the waiting area, his eyes lingering on Samantha. "This is Samantha Selwyn; her parents were Death-Eater scum-"

"Ron!" Percy looked appalled, but the younger Weasley ignored him.

"This here is Atif Aslam, a creep who tends to chat up Slytherin girls on the younger side," Ron continued, losing all his mirth. "And this is Jack Hughes, a pretentious snob who thinks I'm not good enough to be in Slytherin because I'm a Blood-Traitor. I want you to remember their names and faces, all right? Don't ever forget them."

"I won't, boss," London whispered threateningly, making Atif and Jack avert their gaze. "As a matter of fact, I think I'll keep my eyes on their loved ones too. Just in case they get any funny ideas about you." Oh, that's cold! I love it! She's actually quite good at this when she's not goofing around.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Cedric frowned deeply, looking between her and Ron. "You're threatening their families right in front of us?"

"Ced, don't…" Chang whispered, tugging at his arm. You… I remember you too. You ever pick on my sister, as you did in my vision, and I'll cut those slanty eyes of yours wide open.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Cedric demanded, not backing down. "What's this about, exactly?"

"They know what this is about," Ron replied coolly, studying the fear on his fellow Slytherins' faces keenly. Samantha's tougher than them both combined, but only because she thinks her gold gives her power. "You, my friend, have nothing to worry about. London, pour Cedric a glass as well, will you? This man saved my life. He's the whole reason why I'm still stuck on this horrible, shit fucking planet." Cedric blinked, visibly taken aback by the subtle venom in Ron's voice, not moving an inch as London poured him a glass of lemonade. "Is your father here, hm? He sat at my trial, did you know that? While I was pelted with false accusations and threatened to be cast out of the Wizarding World, he remained utterly silent, but the moment your name came up, he switched on. He must really love you, eh? Definitely more than he loves doing his job, at least."

Ron looked to the stands, eventually spotting Amos Diggory a few seats away from his own father. I hope, for your sake, your son doesn't get matched up against me. I'm not here to fuck around, after all-…

"Ladies and Gentlemen, students and parents, we hope you've enjoyed the break and the lunch provided by the Hogwarts Elves!" Remus suddenly announced, much to everyone's excitement. "But, now, it's time for us to continue with the Duelling Club's final tournament! The matches have again been randomized, and they will be as follows! Ronald Weasley vs. Cho Chang!" The Ravenclaw's face fell entirely, whereas Ron grinned. Easy! "Percy Weasley vs. Samantha Selwyn! Cedric Diggory vs. Jack Diggele! Jack Hughes vs. Atif Aslam! So, without any further delay, can Ronald Weasley and Cho Chang please come up!"

Ron shot up to his feet, stretching his back until they could all hear his spine cracking and readjusting inside him, making even London go wide-eyed from revulsion. Remember, old boy! No anger! Just deadly purpose!

"Shall we?" Ron looked to Cho, his head tilting backwards. "I'm not going to take it easy on you just because you're pretty, I hope you know that."

She promptly looked to Cedric, who whispered some words of encouragement in her ear, before looking to Ron. "This is just a friendly match, all right?"

"For you lot, yes," Ron agreed, this was the reason why they could never hope to beat him. "But for me, it's a lot more than that." Ron then looked to Chang, wondering if she was the sort to tuck tail and run. "I heard you beat my brother, Fred. I heard you ran all over the place, that Seeker stamina of yours outlasted him, and when he overextended, you disarmed him. Not bad, however, running around won't help you against me. Just giving you a fair warning, that's all. I'm not my brother, and if you turn your back on me, I'll just get pissed."

With that, Ron began making his way over to the arena, getting into position and stretching some more. I'll make it quick. The more decisive my victories, the better.

"Ron, why are the mercenaries from the Werewolf Sanctuary here?" Remus approached him; his brow furrowed.

"Hello to you as well, Professor," Ron smiled, rotating his wrists in a circular motion.

"Oh, right, sorry," Remus said quickly. "Look, I'm sure you have your reasons, but you can't bring people like them to a school. There are parents here… Children. Professor McGonagall is not happy with you." And why should I care about what that dusty cunt thinks?

"What does the Headmaster think?" Ron asked, and Remus frowned to himself.

"He… He finds it amusing, but, Ron, that's not a good enough reason-"

"You don't understand me," Ron cut in, stopping Remus short. "None of you understand me. So, just leave me be, all right? Why do you feel the need to pester me? Why do you feel the need to tell me what to do all the time?" Haven't I done enough for you? What the fuck do you want from me, exactly? "Just play referee, will you? I'm trying to focus over here."

Remus shook his head, lowering his gaze in disappointment. "Arthur mentioned you were off the deep end… I'm sad to see that he was right…"

"He sure knows how to run his mouth when I'm not around, eh?" Ron couldn't help but chuckle. "Tell him to come say that to my face, if he has the bollocks. I'll beat the shit out of him in front of all of you." Fucking two-bit loser… Talking behind my back like some woman. Pathetic.

Remus stared at him as if he were a complete stranger, his eyes full of sadness and disenchantment, before he turned on his heel and walked over to Chang. He began whispering in her ear, and after a little while, she shook her head. He gave her a meaningful look, but she shook her head once again. Is he telling her to surrender? What the fuck?

Ron looked to Snape, gesturing him to do something. Be pissed at me all you like, but he's wasting both our time.

"Lupin!" Snape hissed, frowning at the other Professor. "Can we get started in this century?"

Remus gave a nod, moving away from Chang. "Are you both ready?"

"Y-Yes, Professor," Chang swallowed thickly, whereas Ron gave a firm nod. She's scared, but she's not backing down. You know what? Good on you, Chang. I'll respect your wishes, and give you my best.

"Begin!" LUMOS SOLEM!

"Expelli-!" Chang started, but stopped with a shriek when golden light burst through Ron's eyes and gaping mouth. "PROTEGO!"

Ron felt his Spell clash against the Ravenclaw's shield, he felt it pushing her back, and so, Ron began to walk forward, intensifying the Spell with each step. That's one powerful shield, Chang! Impressive! You must have an affinity for defensive Magic! He heard her scream as her shield was promptly shattered by the pressure, sending her rag-dolling through the sand. She lasted longer than the P-12 does… Very impressive.

Ron stopped the Spell, his vision slowly returning to him. Chang lay by the edge of the sandpit, covered in sand, her body shaking from impact of the golden beam. She still has her wand, though. With that grip, she was born to be a Seeker. She began to struggle up to her hands and knees, further impressing Ron with her tenacity. Brachium Colubrum!

Ron sent ghostly serpents forth from his left sleeve, seizing her by the arms, legs, and throat. Swinging his arm to the side, he dragged her screaming through the sand, before swinging his arm over his head and smashing her into the ground with enough force to knock her unconscious immediately.

"Match!" Remus shouted, bolting towards the unmoving Ravenclaw.

No one cheered for a solid five seconds, everyone staring at Chang's body in horror, until suddenly, the Slytherin exploded into cheers and whistles. Soon enough, the rest of the crowd joined in, though they were far less enthusiastic. Not one for praise anymore, Ron simply made his way out of the sandpit, smiling darkly at the other competitors as he neared them.

"Some of you are next."

---

Some Time Later

Ron watched Aslam and Hughes throwing their best at each other, feeling bored out of his mind. It wasn't often that he just sat around doing nothing, and so, the lack of action was driving him over the edge. I've had four glasses of lemonade just to pass the time! I'm going to literally piss myself because of bored I am! Maybe, I should talk to Percy? He's in a bit of a mood because of my antics, but it's better than just sitting here, right?

"You did well against Samantha," Ron looked to his red-faced older brother, noticing the sweat dripping from his messy hair. "She gave you quite the challenge, didn't she? I didn't know you could run around so much, Perce. I'm really impressed." I mean, you look like shit, but you did good work out there. You learned from your defeat at Carey's hands, and that alone is worthy of respect. And speaking of Carey, I'm going to get her job sorted out with the old man. She won B-Rank, and that'll be my gift to her.

Percy looked to Ron, stared at him for several seconds, and then, he let out a long sigh. "You should apologize to Cho, Ron… Why would you do something so terrible to her? You know she and Cedric have feelings for each other, don't you?" And why should I care about that?

"Don't give me that nonsense," Ron smiled, staring into Percy's eyes. "If you were as powerful as me, you'd do the same thing. I know you, and you're a lot more like me than anyone else in our family. You know why I did what I did, don't you?" Percy said nothing in response, so Ron leaned forward. "C'mon, Percy, say it. You're the one who taught me this lesson back when I was little, remember?"

Percy frowned to himself, looking away. "…Don't let other people get in your way… If they're not on your level, then they shouldn't try and challenge you…"

"And you should never, ever hold back, Ronnie," Ron finished for him, remembering his brother's words perfectly. "People who hold back end up like dad."

Percy pinched his eyes, letting out another sigh. "This was different…"

"No, it wasn't," Ron whispered, leaning closer. "I am the most powerful student in Hogwarts, and I take great pride in that, because I worked my fucking arse off to get here. I will not tolerate being challenged by amateurs, just as you don't tolerate being challenged by troublemakers. We give everything we have to every task set before us, Perce, whereas most people just fuck around, and yet, we're supposed to treat them as though they're our equals? We're supposed to respect them? We're supposed to hold back on them? Is that really fair to us?" Percy shook his head weakly, and Ron's smile grew wider. "Yeah… You'd have done the same thing to her in my shoes, so don't you start acting like the rest of them. You're better than that, big brother. You know what you want, and you go out there and get it. You don't let anyone stop you, especially not yourself."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"You all right?" Ron asked, watching his brother wipe the sweat off of his face.

"Selwyn tuckered me out, that's all," Percy replied, shooting a look up at their parents and Bill. "It's a shame that I'll have to embarrass you in front of them, but like you said, we don't hold back. We give our best, always."

Ron smiled fondly; Percy was still his favourite brother, even after all this time. "Good. Come at me with everything you've got. If I make a mistake, make me pay for it."

"Same to you, Ronnie," Percy managed a weak smile in return, taking on his stance. I'll let him make the first move, just to see what he does.

"Are you both ready?" Remus asked them, and they both nodded. "Begin!"

Percy fired a Non-Verbal stunner at Ron's head without hesitation, much to the Slytherin's delight. Choosing to stand his ground, Ron moved his neck to the left, dislocating it horrifically with a maniacal grin plastered across his face. The stunner whistled past his ear, and with another grotesque snap, Ron fixed his neck back into place. That was rather cathartic!

Percy just stood there, his jaw hanging open, too shocked to even move an inch after witnessing such an inhuman display.

"That's all it takes?" Ron asked, noticing that Remus too looked beyond alarmed. "Wake up, Percy! If I was some Death-Eater, you'd be dead!"

His brother jerked awake, blinking repeatedly and shaking his head clear. "What was that?! What Spell was that?!" No Spells, only Us.

"Fight back! Think later!"

"Stupefy!" Percy chanted, and Ron stepped to the left, waving his hand and firing a Non-Verbal, Wandless Depulso in response. "Protego!" Lumos Solem!

Ron fired another golden beam out of his eyes and mouth, easily overpowering Percy's shield and sending flying across the air. Cutting off the Spell abruptly, Ron dashed forward, throwing an uppercut into the air with his left hand. Depulso! Just as Percy was about to land, an unseen force smashed into him from beneath, sending him flying upwards again. Wingardium Leviosa! Ron seized Percy by his clothes Wandlessly, yanking his left hand down and dragging Percy to the Earth harshly. His brother landed with a loud thud, letting out a pained wheeze right after. Selwyn drained him… That shield he raised was not even close to Chang's level. All that knowledge, but he never once thought to hone his stamina and Magical Core. What a waste.

"You're still holding your wand," Ron commented, walking over to Percy and looming over him. "That's good, big brother. It means you can still fight back."

"S-Stupefy…" Percy croaked, aiming his wand up at Ron. Cutis Terra!

The stunner, weak as it was, shattered against Ron's chest, leaving behind a red mist. Glacius! Ron felt his left-hand freeze over, after which he hovered it over Percy. Depulso! Frost shot forth from his palm, making Percy curl up out of instinct just as a thick layer of ice began to engulf him. The Slytherin ignored the cries emanating from beneath him, deciding to teach the Gryffindor a lesson in managing his stamina better. Out there, all it takes is one mistake, Perce. Just one, and everything ends.

---

Ten Minutes Later

"Who taught you all this Wandless Magic?" London suddenly asked, interrupting Ron's Occlumency training. "I've never seen it used so proficiently before." I take it that you've never been to Magical Africa. The things I've heard about the wizards there… One day, when I'm free of all this shit, I'd love to go there and study under some Shamans. That would be really nice, I think.

"I taught myself, mostly," Ron admitted, noticing that Cedric and Hughes were still going at it. Diggele really pushed Cedric to his limits, as expected from the winner of the sixth-year tournament, which is the only reason why Hughes is still standing. Look at them, though… Mistake after bloody mistake. They're both less than amateurs.

"You're a bit of a menace, aren't you, boss?" London chuckled, smiling fondly. "No wonder the captain is so fond of you! You remember when we ran into those thugs in Diagon Alley? And you slapped one of them into the next century?" Solomon's goons. Yes, I remember.

"What about it?" Ron asked.

"I was really worried that you were getting in over your head," London replied. "Messing with all these Pureblood bastards, all these rich liars and elitist pricks… I've seen it before, you know? Children trying to meddle in the affairs of adults. Never ends well." Is there a point to all this chatter? "Well, I'm not so worried about you, now. Maybe you really are as badass as they say you are."

"Badass?" Ron looked to her, raising an eyebrow. "My arse is bad?" What a strange thing to say.

"What? No… What?" London laughed, looking baffled by his response. "Badass means that you don't take shit from anyone. You run the show. No one fucks with you, and those that do get fucked right back. You get me?"

"It's a compliment, then?"

"It is," she gave a nod, before filling up his glass, again. "What are you going to do about the pretty boy?"

"Cedric?"

"Yeah," London gave another nod. "He's not happy with you, boss. You tossed his girlfriend around like she was a fucking doll."

"Why are you so sure that Hughes will lose?" Ron asked, and she simply shrugged.

"Neither of them knows how to fight properly, but the pretty boy is faster and has more Spells in his arsenal," London explained her thinking. "Against an untrained opponent, that's usually enough to tip the scales in your favour. So, my money is on the Hufflepuff."

"Mine too," Ron agreed, shooting her a soft smile. "Are you a skilled Duellist, London?"

"Well, I'm not one to toot my own horn, but yeah," London answered, grinning. "I've been in a lot of scraps in my career, and I'm still here, aren't I? I can even give the captain a run for his money on a good day." Really? "Though, he always fights dirty and starts throwing his gorilla-sized fists around."

"Would you mind teaching me some of your tricks?" Ron asked, and she blinked.

"You… want to learn from me?" she seemed strangely puzzled by the request.

"Why wouldn't I?" Ron asked in response, smiling more fully. "You probably know way more Spells than I do, and as you just said, you've faced your fair share of troubles. One person's experience can be another's treasure, right?"

"I suppose so," she grinned, again. "I'm not going to refuse a request from the man who pays me, so consider yourself my student! Come down to the Sanctuary during the evenings, we always run our drills before sunset! Everyone will want to chip in to help you, I reckon."

"Really?"

"You're paying us to protect people, and in our business, that's a winning lottery," London told him. "Being a thug gets tiring, trust me. For once, we're actually doing right by folk, and it's been a long time since the Death's Hand has been anything but assassins for a bunch of snobs." I never realized that they were so happy with their assignment. I guess, I only ever speak to Artyom, which is why I'm a bit clueless about the rest of them.

"Drills before sunset," Ron gave a nod, and she shot him a wink. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Match!" Remus called out, and they both looked to see Cedric still standing.

He was leaning on his knees, panting heavily as sweat dripped down his nose and chin. Ron clapped alongside the crowd, respecting the fact that Cedric had made it into the finals to face him. Your streak ends here, though. Rising from his seat, Ron stretched his back, again. It stretched and readjusted, as did his organs to compensate, and he felt all of it. One final fight, and then, We can face the P-12, again. We can finally have a proper challenge.

"You need to get yourself a bloody massage, boss," London pointed out, shuddering. "Your back sounds beyond fucked."

"Ronald Weasley, come up and take your position," Remus beckoned him. Cutis Terra!

With terrifying speed, Ron shot forward towards the pit, leaping several feet into the air and landing in the centre with a bestial growl. LET'S FUCKING GO! Ignoring the awed crowd, Ron looked to the wide-eyed Cedric with a malicious grin, raising his hands to his side.

"You think you've got what it takes to challenge me, Cedric?" Ron asked, enjoying the uncertainty on his opponent's face. "You want a glass of water, first? You're looking quite parched, actually."

"Aguamenti," Cedric chanted, producing a stream of water from the tip of his wand. You cheeky bugger!

"Ha!" Ron laughed, while Cedric quenched his thirst. "You're still upset about Chang, I take it? That's fair. Still, this is a competition to determine who's the best, and she knew what she was signing up for."

"You dragged her face across the sand," Cedric frowned, his grip tightening on his wand. "She's in the Hospital Wing with three cracked ribs!" Only three?

"She's had worse on the Quidditch Pitch," Ron reminded Cedric. "I know for a fact that you yourself have had a cracked skull before."

"It's not the same-"

"IT IS!" Ron barked, making Cedric flinch. "You think we're here to have fun? Is that what you think this Duelling Club is for? Magic is infinitely more dangerous and unpredictable than a fucking Quaffle, and yet, none of you take it seriously. You come here and expect me to treat you as if you're toddlers, but you wouldn't hesitate for even a second to throw a stunner in my face." Ron then sneered, shaking his head. "You know what your problem is? You're too naïve and self-righteous. You can only focus on what happened to her, not on why it happened. Chang had a chance to walk away, but she chose to stand and fight. She was scared of me, but she didn't back off. Me not holding back on her was a form of respect. Imagine how you'd feel if another Seeker took it easy on you. How would that make you feel, eh?"

Cedric was starting to look more thoughtful than upset, but before he could respond, Remus stepped in. "Are you two finished? Ron, I'm warning you, now. You need to-"

"I don't need to do shit," Ron cut him off. "I'm not breaking any rules, but just because you don't approve of my tactics, you want to boss me around."

"What's going on here?" Snape limped over, glaring at them all. "Why aren't we starting this match?"

"I'm getting a warning for being too rough," Ron looked to Remus, who frowned at him. Get that shitty look off your face, you ugly cunt. Your people were dining on twigs and shit before I came along. If you don't like the way I do things, or, who I am, then go build your own Sanctuary for your people. Let's see how far you get before the Ministry shoves its foot up your arse.

"He hasn't broken any rules, Lupin," Snape whispered icily. "I'm getting tired of you getting in the way of my Slytherins."

Remus looked towards up the Headmaster, and when Dumbledore gestured him to continue onto the finals, he let out a long breath. "Too quickly do violent acts become a violent lifestyle, Ron. Just remember that. And don't use Human Transfiguration on yourself, again. It's too dangerous." Is that what you think I did against Percy? Wow… "Take your positions, you two."

Ron and Cedric faced each other, and the Slytherin gave the Hufflepuff a meaningful nod. "You want me to take it easy on you?"

"No," Cedric answered, adorning a more focused expression. "Never." That's a good man! Come at me with everything you've got! And I'll come at you with everything I've got! Let's tear each other to fucking pieces!

"Begin!"

"Depulso!" Cedric started with a powerful Banishing Charm; his eyes fierce. Cutis Terra!

Ron grinned from ear-to-ear, taking the Banishing Charm to the chest, but not budging an inch as he launched into his own assault. Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Flipendo! Incendio! Glacius! Silencio! Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Flipendo! Incendio! Glacius! Silencio!

Cedric dodged what little he could at the start, but Ron's unnatural speed forced him to raise a shield and hide behind it, falling to one knee under the overwhelming barrage of Spells being sent his way. Incendio! Ron thrust his wand forward suddenly, a jet of orange fire washing over Cedric's shield. Ventus! Feeling his left palm tighten up, Ron shoved it forward, sending a blast of spiralling wind from it, which, combined with his wand's Fire-Making Spell, turned the jet of fire to an all-out blaze. The crowd wasted no time in getting set off, the noise a mixture of shrieks and cheers.

"Anyone order the crispy Hufflepuff?!" Ron laughed like a lunatic, deciding to slow down before Cedric ended up getting cooked alive.

As the flames subsided, Ron was thoroughly impressed to see Cedric still in one piece, his shield severely cracked and visible burns all over his shins. Tough bastard, aren't you? Hufflepuff's finest!

Undoing Cutis Terra, Ron rolled his shoulders and gestured Cedric to fight back. "C'moooon! Do something! Anything! Don't just fucking stand there! Endure the pain, Cedric! Use it as fuel to fuck me up!"

"Expelliarmus!" Cedric shouted, his voice cracking.

Focusing his mind, Ron used his left hand to cast a Non-Verbal Depulso, redirecting Cedric's Disarming Charm away from himself. Thank Merlin, he didn't use the Stinging Hex. That's still too fast for me to deflect.

"More!" Ron urged, wanting to see how far his opponent could go.

"Stupefy! Incendio!"

"Protego! Depulso!"

"Protego!" Cedric blocked Ron's shield, stumbling backwards a little. His legs… He can't move about anymore, can he?

Cedric undid his shield, panting heavily with teary eyes, though his wand remained fixed on Ron. Should I end this? He's hurting more than he can bear. Ron looked towards Madam Pomfrey; she wasn't even trying to hide how scared she was for Cedric. Very well. If she thinks this is going too far, then I will end it. I owe her that much, at the very least.

"Stupefy!" Ron chanted, throwing a speedy stunner at Cedric, who quickly blocked it. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"

The Hufflepuff's shield withstood the hits, despite becoming cracked once again. Ron swiftly noticed that Cedric's legs were once again exposed, which was clearly a chink in his defences. He starts focusing on the top half of his shield whenever the pressure builds up. Silly man. Using Non-Verbal Stunners and Disarming Charms to distract him, Ron waited patiently for Cedric to repeat his error. Now!

"Levicorpus!" Ron aimed low, and Cedric went wide-eyed before getting strung up by his ankles.

"Protego!" Cedric raised another shield, despite being upside down.

"You don't give up, I'll give you that," Ron smiled, glad that he'd gotten a warm-up, at least. "But, let's be honest, you're not even trying to cast any Spells, anymore. You're done-"

"Herbivicus," Cedric interrupted, aiming to Ron's right. What the-…?

Grass shot out of the sand and latched itself onto Ron's wand arm, trying to drag him down. Fuck! Cutis Terra!

"Stupefy!" Cedric fired a stunner at Ron, hitting him in the gut, but Ron ignored it, recovering quickly by tearing the grass out of the sand along with its roots. LUMOS SOLEM!

The golden beam of light smashed into Cedric's Non-Verbal shield, shattering it in an instant and sending the Hufflepuff flying out of the arena. If I were anyone else, that might've worked. Good attempt, though. You have my respect, Cedric. Well, a little bit of it. You're still pretty shit, but you didn't give up, and that's half the battle.

"Match!" Remus put an end to the A-Rank Tournament, and the Slytherins howled in excitement.

The crowd swiftly followed, no doubt applauding his power rather than his brutality. With the Slytherins now chanting his name, his first years being the loudest, somehow, Ron finally looked to them. That's right! You are all mine! Every single one of you! Focusing on Flint in particular, Ron tapped his left eye before pointing towards him, causing the bully to look more than intimidated. You wait until I'm back, you fuck. I'll have you washing Professor Snape's cauldrons for the rest of the school year! And everyone in C-Rank will be joining you!

"Three out of four," Ron whispered to himself, heading back towards London. "That's just not good enough."

"Wait, Ron!" Remus followed after him. "You're leaving before the ceremony? The Headmaster wants to talk to all the winners together."

"Just tell him to give me my House Points," Ron answered, stopping. "And, Remus… I've been good to you, all right? Always. My parents might not love me, and I get that you're their friend, but you're my friend too. Show some bloody loyalty, eh?"

"Ron… What do you mean they don't love you-?"

"Save it," Ron stopped him short, feeling a pang of pain deep within his heart. "I'm not what they want, and they sure as shit aren't what I want. I'm trying to make my peace with it, now, but them running around and trying to turn people against me… I will not fucking stand for that! You tell them that the next time they come crying to you!" Ron then looked to London, leaving Remus behind. "We're leaving! I did what I came here to do!"

"Badass," London grinned, and Ron smirked in response.

"Badass… I like that."

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: So many Duels... So many hours spent with a wand, flailing it about in front of my mirror... See you guys in the next one, though full disclosure, my exams are almost upon me!