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.

161. Chapter 161 - Pride

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 few more Ron fics out there that are on point! They're called 'There and Back Again' by Chuchi Otaku, 'Stay Standing' by Windschild8178, 'Scala ad Caelum' by GRND (criminally underated story, so go give it some love), 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 161 - Pride

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 29th May, 1994 (Headmaster's Office – Early Evening)

"What is this?" Ron asked, his eyes scanning every face in the room. No Madam Pomfrey? This isn't some intervention, then. She wouldn't miss the chance to run her mouth in my direction, not for anything. "Well? Is someone going to start explaining, or can I go?"

"Where were you, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall broke the silence, eyeing Fawkes suspiciously. "And why is the Headmaster's Phoenix with you?"

"He and I were having a picnic, Professor," Ron smirked, jangling the handwoven basket for all to see. "It was lovely, in case you're wondering."

"A picnic?" Sprout blinked, whereas Flitwick quickly suppressed a laugh. "…Strange boy…"

Ron's eyes lingered on Snape, who gave him a subtle nod. Right. This must be important. I'll cut the quips for now.

"Ronald, Nymphadora has brought startling news for you," Dumbledore explained as the Slytherin made his way further into the office. Has she?

"And she shared this news with my family, first, did she?" Ron asked, immediately feeling annoyed. Why worry them? What exactly can they do about this 'news' that I can't? "Is that why they've all packed themselves into your office like a bunch of Garden Gnomes? It must be grave news, indeed… Even the Professors are here. Let's hear it, then." Either someone's made a threat against my life, or the Minister wants me under surveillance and she ordered Tonks to do it. Those are my best guesses. I'll put my money on the former.

"Go ahead, love," Andromeda whispered to her fatigued daughter. "He needs to know what the Ministry is up to now." Damn, just lost my money. Was hoping for another murder attempt. Those are always more exciting.

"…I'm doing it, mum…" Tonks clicked her tongue, before focusing on the redhead. "Crouch um… He wanted me to spy on you, under orders from the Minister herself. They want to gather dirt on you, Ron. Anything that can land you in trouble, or make you look bad. They think you have too much influence over the people, and that you're a danger to them. To the people, I mean. And to the Ministry too, of course… Ugh… Sorry, I haven't really slept-"

"Kid, they want to drag your name through the mud," Sirius cut in, giving the Metamorphmagus a strong pat on the back. "They asked Tonks to gather evidence against you, but she made the right call and told them to fuck off." She told them to fuck off, did she? "The Ministry is as corrupt as ever, and they just lost themselves a brilliant Auror for it!" Yes, just what we needed… Less Aurors… So, the Minister wants me under watch, does she? Fair enough. I do have a lot of influence, and I don't always play nice. In her shoes, I'd do the same. Honestly, I'm more surprised by the fact that it took her this long to order it. She'll find nothing, of course, and even if she does, it won't change anything. If she gets in my way, I'll just kill her. And Crouch. And Moody. And everyone else who's stupid enough to interfere with my work.

"Ron?" Arthur called, tearing him out of his thoughts. "Son, why are you being so quiet? This is serious… The Minister herself ordered this, which means the Ministry is targeting you, again. I've already asked Dumbledore to put an end to it-"

"Put an end to it?" Ron interrupted, why was his father so thick in the head? "With what authority? He's no longer the Chief Warlock, remember? He has no power over the Minister." He then looked to the old wizard. "I don't think a stern lecture about my rights will cut it, Headmaster. And, frankly, you and I both know that Amelia Bones isn't doing this out of malice. She's just… concerned… about the safety of her countrymen." And the safety of her illustrious career. "Best to ignore all this, eh? I've nothing to hide, after all, and I don't want you to waste any more of your precious time on my problems."

Dumbledore's lips twitched upwards as he nodded his agreement, whereas the others all exchanged surprised looks. They got themselves so worked up over something so miniscule? And they brought it to Dumbledore himself? As if the old man, my bloody friend, doesn't have enough to worry about? As if the entire world isn't already depending on him? Why? Tonks must've shared the news with her mother, who then felt the need to warn me and my family. A thoughtful gesture, but also an unnecessary one. And, of course, Sirius only added fuel to the fire when he found out, I imagine. He's too quick to become rash, especially where the Ministry is concerned. Bunch of useless idiots, the lot of them. They join up and bring this shit to the Headmaster, needlessly putting him in a position that he doesn't want to be in. Not caring about, nor understanding, the intricate power he must exercise to keep us all from the fire. If you're so worried, dad, then why don't you go talk to Bones yourself? Oh, wait, you can't! You're just a fucking paper-pusher! She'll fire your bald-headed arse on the spot!

"Ron, you can't ignore something like this," Bill spoke up, his brow creased. "Do you want to end up in another rigged trial? Do you want to put mum and dad through that miserable affair, again?" Oh, yes, they suffered humiliation on a global scale last time… Wait, that was me, not them, you ponytailed, fang-eared faggot. What are you even doing here? I ought to break your jaw for daring to run your mouth about me to Daphne.

"She's not after a trial, you lot," Ron fought the urge to scream in the face of their combined idiocy, and Fawkes flew off his shoulder and landed beside Dumbledore, as if having sensed the redhead's rising temper. "She wants leverage over me, so she can use my Quibbler without having to appease me. It's a pathetic attempt to undermine me, and I won't give her what she wants by getting riled up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have homework to finish." Just be on your way, old boy. Before you start hurling furniture.

"Your homework can wait, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said sternly. "Your family, your mother and father, are deeply concerned for you. The least you can do is comfort them. Or, better yet, start by greeting them with the respect they are due. I expect better manners from my pupils." They'll be comforting you in a minute if you don't shut it.

Ron shot the Head of Gryffindor an annoyed glance, sizing her up. Dried-up, dusty cunt. Go fuck yourself. McGonagall was rather taken aback by the young wizard eyeing her so brazenly, and when she looked to Dumbledore, the old man merely shook his head. Gryffindors… Always quick to act righteous, aren't they? 'Greet them with the respect they are due'… You people deserve nothing but my boot in your ugly faces.

"Thank you for the warning, Tonks," Ron looked back to the former Auror, offering her an appreciative nod. "I'll be sure to stay out of trouble. Sorry about your job, but I have a feeling that you've been thinking of walking away for a while, now. Since Knockturn Alley, probably." The pink-haired witch blinked, like a deer caught in headlights. "Best of luck to you."

With that, he turned and left the office, sauntering down the spiral staircase with a dark sneer plastered on his face. I'll have to order Artyom to keep the Death's Hand in check, and to double the security of the Werewolf Sanctuary. Tonks may have refused Crouch, but he's a crafty old bastard. He'll find a way to get his eyes on me, one way or another. Let's hope he approaches the Americans about this. Reyes said that his spy network is above all others, and I can't help but believe him. Crouch will try to take advantage of that. He may not admit it, but he has a bone to pick with me after I went behind his back and made a deal with the Minister. I feel like Scrimgeour's ghost is haunting me, convincing his former allies to continue his work in his stead. That, or I made too much noise too quickly like an idiot. Whatever… It doesn't matter. All I want is a Ministry that gives a fuck about its people, and with Bones, I think that's what I'm getting. The moment I stop thinking that, the moment she starts putting herself above all others, I'll cut her into pieces and throw her in the Thames. Crouch too. And that one-eyed, noseless fuck with the dog-breath-…

"Ron, wait up!" Charlie called out, stopping the Slytherin. Now, what?

He turned around with a pleasant smile, utterly unsurprised when he saw Kirsten following after his older brother. "What is it, Charlie? Kirsten? Another warning?"

"No, I was just wondering why you were so eager to leave the room," Charlie answered, his expression was the culmination of what little focus he could muster. "Oh, and I was wondering why you didn't even look in mum and dad's direction. C'mon, Ron… They've been worried sick, and you're mistreating them for no reason." I am? What did I do? I didn't even say anything to them! I was extremely careful with my tone and everything!

"It was awfully rude of you to act like they weren't even in the room," Kirsten added. "Your mother can be… overbearing, sure, but she doesn't deserve to be ignored. I thought you were better than that, Ron. Smarter." I didn't even think about any of that. I just saw no point in engaging with them. What am I supposed to say to them, exactly? Sorry I had another seizure? No, you can't start ordering me around, now? What's so wrong about not wanting to have the same conversation for the hundredth time?

"It wasn't on purpose," Ron said honestly. "I just… felt no need to address them. I mean, I'm glad they came, but what am I supposed to do? Sit in their laps? Cry in their arms? Talk to them about matters above their heads? What exactly can they offer me right now? Nothing at all." Charlie and Kirsten gawked at him, as if he'd said something so vile that their minds had melted. "Before you go off, Charlie, know that I am genuinely wondering what you expect of me. What am I supposed to do?"

"Talk to them, you socially inept tosser," Charlie scolded. "What are they doing to you down in Slytherin, mate?!" Slytherin? Oh, please… That place is the least of my worries. My own fucking mind is worse than Slytherin could ever hope to be. At least, in Slytherin, there's no Old God waiting for me to bend over within reaching distance!

"This has nothing to do with my house, and everything to do with the tiresome cycle we're trapped in," Ron stated matter-of-factly "We fight, we make-up. We fight, we make-up. We fight some more, and I leave the house. It's draining, all right? It makes me miserable. I don't want to have the same conversation over and over again. So, just respect that, will you? I'll keep my opinions to myself, and you lot can do the same. We don't have to agree on everything. Now, go and tell them what a prick I am, and leave me to attend to more important matters than sentimental drivel." I'll start by training with the P-12, then do some homework, then go to Professor Snape for Occlumency training, and then, before bed, I'll spar with the P-12 some more. Need to tire myself out so I can sleep more peacefully. I don't want to burden Fawkes any more than I already do.

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Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 29th May, 1994 (Hafren Forest – Late Evening)

"The Chief wants to talk to you," London said as she entered the tent, gesturing Daphne to follow her. He does?

Deciding not to waste this golden opportunity, Daphne quickly washed her hand in the basin before following London outside. "Did he mention what he wanted to discuss with me?" It's not about my father, is it? I've no idea what he's up to, especially now that mother has left him.

"He doesn't exactly talk in a straightforward manner," London responded. "He's probably just curious as to why you keep coming back here."

"Is that disapproval I hear in your tone?" Daphne asked, and London shot a smirk back. She acts far too familiar for a lackey. It's disrespectful and irritating.

"You can do whatever you like, princess, but you can't deny you're being a bit stupid right now. I mean, what's the point of risking your health helping Jonathan? He's a Vampire! He'll never get sick, but you? You could end up in St. Mungo's, just like the boss did."

"What happened to Ron had nothing to do with the camp, though."

"You know what I mean, and you know I'm right." About me being stupid? Because I want to play my part in helping these people?

"I don't, actually," Daphne stopped, narrowing her eyes. "And what I don't understand is why Ron lets you talk so much. You don't know your place, mercenary, nor do you have the decency to mind your tone. If you worked for me, I'd have fired you straight away." You're a bad investment.

"The boss likes my tone, I reckon," London shrugged, unfazed by Daphne's warning.

"He doesn't, I promise you. You don't know him like I do. One day, you'll say too much one too many times, and he'll smack you silly. Mark my words, mercenary. This attitude of yours might be tolerated amongst your barbaric company, but it's not tolerated by those who employ you. It's disrespectful, not charming." Daphne then stormed past the sniggering mercenary; she didn't want to hear the older witch's smug voice any longer. "I know my way to his yurt. Return to your duties." Honestly, by what right does she speak to me as if she's my friend? Peasants, I swear… They don't understand proper etiquette, nor do they even attempt to learn it. Do I go around speaking to strangers as if I've known them my entire life? No. It's poor manners, plain and simple.

Upon reaching the yurt's entrance, Daphne drew in a deep breath to recollect herself, straightening her posture and flattening her robes in order to appear more presentable. Once she felt ready, she moved to enter the yurt, only to be taken by surprise when the hide-drape parted and Chief Zotair limped out.

"Ah, I thought I heard you, child," Chief Zotair greeted, his voice somewhat muffled by his iron mask.

"You wished to see me, Chief Zotair?" Daphne asked, offering him a polite curtsy.

The Chief chuckled tiredly, before bowing his upper-body as low as he could. "Your persistence is to be commended, young one. You have proven many of my people wrong with your determination and compassion." I have? They must really distrust Wizarding-Kind, huh? I can't say I blame them. "Walk with me, please."

"Of course, Chief Zotair," Daphne bowed her head and stepped out of the way, allowing him to take the lead. "How are you faring? Have Director Reid's remedies soothed your pain?" I hope so.

"They have, they have," Chief Zotair nodded, limping ahead. "I have not felt so relieved in a very long time. The man has more than earned his title, I believe." He's brilliant, isn't he? "Do you enjoy working with him?"

"I do, yes," Daphne smiled. "He is an excellent teacher. Patient and wise. Oh, and kind. He's promised to teach me to suture a wound without a wand next week." With my hands! Just like the Muggles do!

"To become a Healer… Is that your ambition?" Chief Zotair asked, and Daphne's smile faltered. I haven't really considered it, no.

"Um… I've never really thought about that," Daphne admitted, thinking her words through. "It is an honest profession, certainly, and a much needed one too. However, I was reared to handle companies and their assets by my father. I will, most likely, follow in his footsteps. I will manage the Greengrass estates and our various businesses." Why does that suddenly sound so… empty? Am I really content to just be like every other Greengrass?

"Is that what you want?" Chief Zotair questioned. "I wish to know you, child. Not your father, and not Fire-Hair." Fire-Hair? Ron? "What is it that you want for yourself?" …I don't know yet… "Who is Daphne Greengrass ten years from now? Where is she? Has she led an honourable and pious life? Has she sinned against others and the Earth? Does she have a family? Friends? Enemies?" That's a lot of heavy questions to just throw out there.

"…I don't even know who she is now, to tell you the truth," Daphne admitted, feeling oddly ashamed. "I know she wants to be respected, to be taken seriously, but no matter what she tries, people only see the daughter of Sebastian Greengrass." Or, worse, Ron's ex-girlfriend. "She's no one, and that… hurts… It hurts my pride… My sense of self… And I resent that feeling, because I know I haven't accomplished anything to earn the respect I desire. I can't tell you where she is ten years from now, Chief Zotair, because I don't even know where she is right now." She's lost… Lost amongst her father's sins and her failed attempts to find recognition… Perhaps, she was searching in the wrong place this entire time?

"I know where she is right now, even if she doesn't," Chief Zotair whispered softly. Where? "She's standing right before me; kinder than any witch-child I've ever crossed paths with. I couldn't miss her even if I tried, for she glows like the sun after a heavy rainfall." Daphne couldn't help but smile a little at that, it felt good to be acknowledged by someone so wise. "Children are often too rash in trying to prove themselves. I speak from experience. From the day I could stand, I pushed myself to become a warrior unlike any other, and yet, it was not a Spell, nor an arrow, that slew me. Wisdom, it seems, can only be purchased with time, and from wisdom, respect is earned. You will find your place, in time, so you might as well enjoy the journey, yes?"

She gave a slow nod, there was sense in his words. "What if I'm the impatient sort?"

Chief Zotair laughed, which served to further brighten her mood. "Even the seasons must practice patience, child. Spring cannot come before winter. You must be like spring, Daphne Greengrass, for only then shall you bloom." Be like spring… I can do that. "Your friend, the Phantom, he is the winter to your spring. Remember this."

"Pardon?" Daphne blinked.

"…The long and terrible winter…" Chief Zotair whispered, turning his head away. "…The Shadow that blinds even the stars… Be patient, child, for your time will come, once the winter has passed." I don't understand. Is he talking about Ron's sickness? And why is he saying such horrid things about the one wizard who actually did something to help his people? "I can see that my words have upset you. You are very loyal to him, aren't you?"

"I am," Daphne said, feeling proud of it. "He is not the winter, Chief Zotair. I don't exactly understand what you're implying, but I do understand one thing… Ron has more kindness in him than anyone else I know, and it's that same kindness that brought tears to his eyes when he saw how you had all suffered. Please, don't forget that. It's the least you owe him."

"I did not mean any offence towards him, nor you," Chief Zotair assured her. "His nature is also vital for the world to thrive, for without winter, all manner of life would grow unchallenged." …Um… Okay… "You two have come to share a bond stronger than either of you understand." We have? I mean, of course, we have! I know we have! "You two are fortunate, indeed, and I am fortunate for having witnessed it before my time comes. This world's future looks brighter to me now than it has in a decade, even if it is shrouded in winter's long night." I am so confused right now. "I would like to speak more to you, Gold-Hair, but for now, I will bid you farewell. I wish to walk the forest unattended; it has been far too long since I've had the strength to do so."

"Of course, Chief Zotair," Daphne bowed her head. "And… Thank you. For seeing me, I mean."

"How could I not?" the Centaur laughed, limping away. Because I glow like the sun after a heavy rainfall? I really like that.

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Albus Dumbledore's POV

Saturday 29th May, 1994 (Headmaster's Office – Night)

"McGonagall may sometimes speak out of turn, but you shouldn't be so quick to eyeball her like she's a piece of meat," Severus warned Ronald, his all-too-familiar scowl in place. "I will not have my finest disrespect her so unashamedly, even if she is biased against Slytherin."

"He called me his finest," Ronald grinned at Albus, much to the old sorcerer's amusement. "You heard him, right?"

"I did, yes," Albus gave a nod, shooting a teasing smirk at Severus.

"I am trying to teach him a lesson, and you are undermining my authority," the Potion Master's scowl deepened. Ah, I'm sorry. Please, do continue. "Do you want her to turn you into a table, boy? Because she could do so without uttering a word."

"Look, she hurt my feelings, okay?" Ronald started, and Albus eagerly leaned forward for whatever new madness was about to spill out of the boy's mouth. "I am what the intellectually superior would call a 'mother-collector', right? Not a motherfucker, no! A mother-collector! Due to feeling neglected in my childhood, I latch onto strong women to act as my surrogate mothers! And Professor McGonagall won't let me latch onto her! All I want is a Transfiguration-mummy! Is that too much to ask?!"

The dam broke, and Albus barked out a thunderous laugh, whereas Severus just stared at Ronald with a mixture of confusion and disgust. What is wrong with him?! Why does he say these demented things?! Oh, merciful Merlin! If only Minerva had heard this! Her wrath would certainly be swift and brutal!

"You are sick in the head, Weasley," Severus muttered, whereas Albus wheezed in his chair. "When this is all done, I will personally see to it that you're locked away in St. Mungo's for good."

"Your friend opens up to you, and your response is to lock him away?" Ronald asked, his lips trembling as his grin grew downright maniacal. "I could be a son to you, Potions-daddy, if only you could learn to love." HA! Potions-daddy?! What?!

"…I am done," Severus stood up, drawing in a sharp breath. "I am done with this lunacy for the night. If I hear another word creep out of his insolent mouth, I will return to my old ways. I will kill this vile creature with my bare hands!" This has gone far enough! I really should put a stop to it!

"Severus, please," Albus coughed out, using his hand in a failed attempt to muffle his persistent laughter. Control yourself, Albus! You are only encouraging Ronald's degeneracy!

"You two make me wish the Dark Lord had finished me off for good," Severus turned and walked away, his dark robes billowing in his wake. "Do not, under any circumstances, disturb me, again! I don't care if the castle is burning down! You stay clear of my office!"

Once Severus had left via floo, and Albus had finally regained his composure, he turned his attention back to the foul-mouthed young wizard before him. "You push him too often, Ronald. Too often."

"Consider it payback," Ronald shrugged, slowly losing his mirth. "…He's been avoiding me, you know? I just spent an hour with him, and he didn't say a single word." I see. That is a shame. "I haven't done anything to deserve his ire. At least, not recently."

"Severus has always been difficult, but you are right," Albus nodded. "However, for what it's worth, he does care. When the American Aurors abducted you, he was ready to go to war. And, when you had your most recent seizure, he travelled to St. Mungo's to personally oversee your Healer's work, much to everyone's surprise."

"Really?" Ronald asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "That's… so sweet of him."

"Don't make me regret sharing this with you, my boy," Albus chuckled, wagging his finger. "I don't like that mischievous look in your eyes."

"Mischievous look? Me? Never!" Ronald feigned hurt, before smiling. "I won't say anything, I promise."

"He will not thank you, but know that he is grateful, nonetheless," Albus said reassuringly.

"I don't want him to thank me, Headmaster, I just want him to grow as a person. Not for me, it can't be for me, but for Draco. The man isn't alone, anymore. He has a duty of care to someone else, now. And Draco… He's been through enough. I don't want to see him turn out like his Godfather, or, worse, his cunt of a father." Ronald is right. Draco deserves the love of an adult he idolizes. The love of a parent. If he is denied that love, he will grow cold and resentful. To this day, I am impressed with Harry for turning out so noble, even after all he's been put through by Petunia and Vernon. And, by me.

"Does he spend much time with Draco? Outside of the boy's classes?" Albus asked.

"None," Ronald replied, shaking his head. "I haven't said anything, because I know he'll take it the wrong way if it comes from me, but something has to be done. Draco has been… distant… with me recently, with everyone. I can't help but wonder if it's because he feels alone and alienated, especially with the holidays coming up." A decade, and Severus still can't live without his guilt. He has grown dependant on it, as if he would die if it were taken from him. Have I been too passive with him? Too indulgent? No, it's worse than that, isn't it? I too have grown to rely on his guilt, instead of helping him conquer it.

"I will speak to him, dear boy, you have my word." He chose to take Draco under his care, and by Merlin, he will step up. I will make him.

"If you can find the time, I'd really appreciate it," Ronald relaxed in his chair, yawning. He looks tired. I should let him rest for the night-… "Oh, also, I'm sorry."

"Sorry? About what?"

"About the Weasley brigade," Ronald clarified. Ah, yes. They made quite a fuss, today, didn't they? "They don't understand how important it is for you to keep the Minister's trust right now. They shouldn't have come to you like that, making absurd demands of you like you're their personal House-Elf. I'll handle this business with the Minister on my own. I don't want you to worry about it, okay?"

"Think nothing of it, Ronald. They were simply worried, and saw no other alternative but to approach me." I have grown rather accustomed to-…

"Maybe, once in a while, people should approach you to ask what they can do for you, instead of what you can do for them," Ronald countered, and Albus just stared at him. "Do you have any plans for the holidays, Headmaster?"

"I have called for a meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards," Albus started. "This business with the Prophecy Records… It cannot be ignored. They must be destroyed, and those who kept them hidden must be questioned. I shudder to think what the Star of Madness has done to these people. I visited Professor Saul Croaker when you were indisposed. The man is a shell of his former self. How he managed to break free of the Star's manipulations and warn Amelia is beyond me. He must've had the strength of a hundred men." They were right about his memories. They were just 'gone', as if he never made them to begin with. Usually, there's always a trace of tampering to be found, but not with him. Merlin, what a terrible power… Memories make up the very people they belong to, and for the Star to consume them… It's as if it feeds on life itself-…

"You all right? Was it that bad?" Ronald asked, and Albus gave a solemn nod. "Well, then, try not to get too curious, hm?" This warning, again? He must've really meant his words, then. That he would leave me to my fate if I ever made contact with the Star. "Oh, maybe we can get one of these Records into the Dark Lord's hands? That would be funny, wouldn't it?"

"No, Ronald," Albus shook his head. "Even Tom, for all his crimes, does not deserve such a cruel end." Flashes of Lord Voldemort being tortured by the Entity flashed in Albus' mind, the Darkest Wizard in recorded history uncharacteristically begging for death was an image Albus would never forget. "We will defeat him, but not through such evil means."

"It's going to happen to me, probably," Ronald shrugged, much to Albus' dismay. "Being imprisoned within the Star of Madness for all of eternity, I mean. So, I might as well have some mortal company, eh?"

"I will not let that happen," Albus promised.

"You're going to fight Gods for me, are you?"

"If I have to, yes," Albus answered, his tone deadly serious. You will not be punished for all your sacrifices, my friend. I will never allow this injustice to come to pass.

Ronald just stared at him, before grinning from ear-to-ear. "I'll put my money on us! We'll kick their arses!" He is terribly, and rightfully, afraid. I can see it in his eyes.

"From what you've told me about them, they sorely need a good thrashing," Albus said as he waved his hand, Conjuring up a chessboard. "Are you up for a game, dear boy?" I can't let these dreadful thoughts be his final ones for the day.

"With you? Always!"

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Daphne Greengrass' POV

Sunday 30th May, 1994 (Room of Requirement – Evening)

Deciding to come up here was the right call, for all the wrong reasons. Daphne had intended to share the conversation between her and Chief Zotair with Ron, but when she had arrived, he was already engaged in an epic duel with the P-12 Auror Trainer. She wasn't much into Duelling, especially not since her spirit-crushing defeat at the hands of Pansy, but observing a sweaty Ronald Weasley running around shirtless? Well, she was certainly into that, and she felt no compulsion to hide her enjoyment. Look at his bum! Pansy was right! It's become so… robust! I want to throw Galleons at it, just to see them bounce back into my hands!

Ron dodged a stunner at the last second, rolling through the sand before shooting up to his feet. Daphne felt her face flush, the image of his glistening muscles at work being seared into her mind. We have to pass a new law in Slytherin! Ron can't wear a shirt, no matter what! He has to walk around with those perfect abs on full display! No, wait! I don't want anyone else to see them! Pansy would be all over him, the pervert! And those harlots from fourth-year! I can't let that happen! Ever! Yes… This is better! This is much, much better! Only I get to see them this way! And those scars! He looks like a gladiator of long-lost Rome! He'd never believe this, but they suit him! They give him a dangerous look, a primal look, like he's conquered nations!

The Gods were being generous today, as Ron, by virtue of trying to dodge a barrage of stunners and Disarming Charms, was forced to move about until his back was aimed directly at Daphne, giving her an even better view of his shapely rear. It's so meaty! All that running he does, all those exercises his Auror mentor taught him, they are being put to excellent use! Her eyes scanned upwards, eventually, admiring the muscles on his back for the first time. I never realized that a boy's back could be alluring… It's nice. Not as defined and delightful as his front, but there are muscles there. They look… very tense. Angry, even. Maybe, I can find an excuse to touch them? Just to find out how they feel? For my edification, of course. They must feel as solid as stone-…

"Take that!" Ron suddenly laughed, breaking Daphne out of her stupor. Huh? What happened? "Too slow, wooden man! Too fucking slow!"

The P-12 lay crumpled on the far-end of the sandpit, one of its legs bent backwards. Ouch! What happened? Did Ron catch it by surprise? Clearing her throat, Daphne gave Ron a standing ovation, causing the redhead to turn around and beam at her. It's probably not a good sign that fighting that thing makes him so happy.

"Did you see that?! That's how you do it!" Ron exclaimed, suddenly pounding his chest and letting out an excited roar. "I'm on fire, today! Haven't lost a single round!"

"That's brilliant," Daphne said distractedly, staring at his abs.

The large scar that ran diagonal across his chest and stomach did very little to blemish his physique in her eyes. Look at them! They're popping out at me! As if trying to say hello! Oh, and his chest and shoulders! They're getting wider and wider! Even without Magic, he could beat up every boy in this school, I'm certain of it! It's probably not a good sign that imagining him beating up other boys makes me so happy. Some of them definitely deserve it, though. They can be so creepy, always leering at me and the other girls. The boys from fourth-year and fifth-year are the nastiest of the lot by far. I've even caught some of them loitering about the Grand Staircase just so they can see up girls' skirts. Disgusting pigs-…!

"Daphne?!" Ron called out. "Are you there?!"

"W-What?" she stammered, her eyes darting up to his bemused face. "What is it?"

"I asked if I can have my shirt? It's right there, on the chair in front of the fireplace."

She looked towards the discarded shirt awaiting collection only a foot away from her. He wants to cover up? Why? Did I embarrass him?

"Aren't you… hot?" Daphne asked, trying her best to be nonchalant. "You'd just get it all sweaty, Ron." Don't you dare rob me of this!

His lips twitched upwards, much to her mortification. He's onto me! "Someone could walk in here, Daph. I don't want to traumatise them, that's all." What? Because of your scars? "Never mind… I'll just come over and grab it."

Daphne had to physically hold herself back from leaping to the shirt, first, just so she could toss it into the fire. All good things end, Daphne. What a shame, though. He never, ever shows any skin. Not even his arms. Speaking of his arms, actually… As Ron walked over to collect his full-sleeved, white training shirt, Daphne took the chance to study his bandaged forearm. What caused that weird injury, Ron? Why have you never mentioned it before? How long have you had it? It must've happened after we broke up, because I never even glimpsed those bandages before.

"That's better," Ron exhaled, covered once again. No, it's not. "I reckon, I've earned a short break. Starting to get slow out there." He then looked to her, an agreeable smile in place. "What brings you here? You know I train at this time on Sundays, don't you?"

"Weren't expecting company, I take it," Daphne teased, smirking. I'm going to be dropping by more often, now. Whenever you least expect it.

"If I was expecting company, I'd have kept my shirt on," Ron groaned as he sat down across from her. "Oh, my back… Sand, Daphne, does very little to ease the impact whenever you need to take a dive…" A chance! An opportunity! The Gods are on my side, today! "It's bloody useless, that grainy shit."

"That sounds awful, Ron," Daphne started, adorning her most sympathetic voice. "I saw you just before… When you rolled to dodge that stunner… That looked really painful."

"It wasn't not painful, that's for sure," Ron shifted in his seat, groaning, again. "Merlin's Beard… I broke my arse, I think…" His arse? Now, I have to try and convince him!

"Didn't Madam Roberts mention how important it is for your muscles to be tended to?" Daphne asked, and Ron shot her a wary look. "To avoid injuries?"

"…Yes… She did…" Don't sound so suspicious! I'm not up to anything malicious!

"I can give you a massage, if you want," Daphne shrugged, before smiling encouragingly. Was that too upfront? It was, wasn't it? "You sound like you really need one."

"You don't have to do that, Daph," Ron waved a dismissive hand. "I mean, it's a nice offer, but I'll just go to a professional. Nina knows what she's about, and I haven't visited her in a while. She'll be glad to see me still kicking about, I'm sure." Nina?! Who the fuck is this bitch?! Why do you only socialize with witches, huh?!

"Nina? A woman?" Daphne asked, her smile evaporating. "That can't be right, Ron… A grown woman touching a child like that? That's not proper. Not one bit-"

"What do you think happens in a massage, exactly?" Ron asked, looking downright baffled. "It's all very professional, Daph! She's never even made a single comment about any of my bloody scars! It's like she doesn't even see-!"

"Your scars?" Daphne asked, her mouth gaping. "W-What do you mean by that? You're naked?! She massages you naked?!" What the fuck?! This is illegal! She needs to be in Azkaban! How can he be this smart and not realize he's being taken advantage of?!

Ron just stared at her, before chuckling to himself. Don't laugh at me! "She uses oils and whatnot, Daphne. My clothes would get dirty. My beautiful suits. It's nothing perverse, all right? As a matter of fact, the whole affair bloody hurts. A lot. She digs her fingers into my muscles like some Harpy." What? Why? "I don't even want to know what you're imagining. One of the main reasons I don't go back there is to avoid the pain she inflicts on me." So… She doesn't feel him up? She doesn't run her hands all over him? "You're being fucking weird, all right? Knock it off."

"…Fine… Go to her… I don't care…" Daphne scoffed, pursing her lips. I hope she mangles your spine, you prat. I'm right here, and I'm offering to do it for free, but that's not good enough for you?

Ron just laughed some more in the face of her disapproval, upsetting her further. "Are you not going to tell me why you came here, now? Go on, talk to me. You climbed up seven floors for a good reason, right?" Why does this room have to be so far up? Why can't it manifest closer to the dungeons? "Daphne?"

"…I wanted to talk to you about Chief Zotair," Daphne started, poorly masking her disappointment. "He spoke to me, yesterday. Just the two of us. It was an enlightening conversation." Did you ask him to talk to me? Would you even tell me if you did?

"Enlightening how?" Ron asked, his perfected smile giving nothing away.

"He taught me about the value of the journey itself," Daphne replied, replacing Chief Zotair's words with her own. "The destination is important, but it can make you tunnel-visioned if you let it. That's what was happening to me, now that I really think about it. I just wanted the respect, the adoration, as quickly as possible. I thought that if I pushed hard enough, if I kept asking for it, it would come, but that's not how things work. You, for example, didn't become the most famous young wizard in the world overnight."

"Second most famous," Ron corrected, smirking. "Harry still beats me, I reckon, by a decent margin." He didn't build his fame, it was handed to him because of his circumstances. And anyone who spends any time with him knows just how mediocre he is. He doesn't deserve to be lauded as the hero of the Wizarding World, that honour should be reserved for those who gave their lives fighting for freedom. "You okay? You look even saltier, now."

"I'm going to focus more on the journey, Ron," Daphne continued, tossing 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' out of her mind. "When you implied that we weren't equals on this venture… It bothered me a great deal, but, now, I'm starting to understand what you really meant. I'm not ready for that much responsibility just yet. I'm not the one paying for the supplies, I'm not the one who's bringing the manpower, and, should things fall apart, I'm not the one who'll have to take the blame. I wanted to feel just as vital in saving the Tribe as you are, but the simple truth is that I'm not. And that's my problem, not yours. You've already gone out of your way to accommodate me every step of the way, and I haven't even thanked you for it. Not properly, at least. And, before you say anything, I know you don't want my gratitude… You don't care much for words. What you want is for me to push myself beyond my limits, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. My journey has only just begun, and no matter how difficult it gets, I'm committed to it." This feels right. I've finally made a breakthrough here, I believe. I don't want to be just another Greengrass. I want to be more. I want to be the best of us.

Ron nodded slowly, having absorbed her entire speech, before giving her one of his blessed, and woefully rare, 'golden smiles'. "You're brilliant, Daphne. You really are." Do you really think so? I don't think I am, but the way you say it makes me want to believe it.

The blonde shifted in her seat, warmth flooding her heart. He called me brilliant before, as well, when we were speaking to Headmaster Harkin. "…Thanks, Ron. Those words mean everything coming from you." Am I blushing? I am, aren't I?

"Then, I'm glad I said them."

They held each other's gaze for a few seconds, before Ron slowly stood up and walked over to her. Um… What's he doing? Is he going to… kiss me? That's the look he always used to give me whenever he kissed me. Daphne stared up at him, the butterflies in her stomach growing feral in anticipation. I won't make the first move, but the moment he does, I'm going for it!

"Do you know what we haven't done in a while?" Ron asked, and Daphne swallowed thickly. Snogged? Please, say snogged. "We haven't danced together." Oh… Damn…

"No, we haven't," Daphne whispered, the butterflies showing no signs of stopping their rampage. "What's brought this on, Ron?" Why am I asking that? This is my chance to feel up his back!

"Could be that I smell like rotten eggs, so I want to hold you close and ruin your day," the redhead sniggered. …Lovely… "Or, it could be that I miss how good we were to each other." I miss it too. Like you wouldn't believe. "I feel close to you, again, Daphne. Spending time with you on this Centaur business, watching you tackle every obstacle in your way without ever holding back… It's just reminded me of how lucky I am that I met you."

Daphne swallowed thickly, again, her eyes welling up. "…Wow…"

"Wow?"

"…Sorry…" …I don't know what else to say…

"Don't be," Ron beamed, offering her his gloved hand. "Dance with me, instead."

Daphne straightened her back, wiping at her eyes before taking his hand in hers. "Lead the way, then."

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Sunday 30th May, 1994 (Seventh Floor – Evening)

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Pansy grumbled, shifting in her spot as if she really had to pee.

"You can leave, if you like," Blaise shot a look back, disappointment already swimming behind his dark eyes. "I'm still going to go through with it. I'm done lying to my best mate for you. Every time I see him with you, all smiles and compliments, I can't help but feel like you're making a fool out of him. I can't stand it, anymore." …Me neither…

Pansy lowered her head, letting out a long sigh. "…I have been taking advantage of him, haven't I?"

"You have."

"I knew it was wrong, but… it just felt really nice to have the old Ron back…"

"The old Ron?" Blaise turned around, frowning. "He's still Ron, Pansy. The only difference is that he's no longer willing to ignore his own feelings for ours. When you tell him the truth, don't try to make this his fault, all right? He'll definitely lose it if you do that." Noted. "C'mon… I promised to help Theo with his Astronomy revision after this."

"Um-…"

"Yes, I'll help you too, but only if you do this right."

Pansy could do little but give a shaky nod, her heart was already pounding in her throat. She already knew that Ron would shout at her, maybe even hurl a chair at a wall, and the idea of being the sole target of his monstrous anger terrified her. And, then, there'll be Daphne… I don't even want to think about how hurt she will be… As she watched Blaise pace back-and-forth to reveal the door, Pansy found herself wishing she could go back in time and stop herself from taking the shortcut that led her here. 'This is the last time I will ask any of you to try things my way'… That's what Ron said to us when he brought Tracey over for a visit. I don't think he'll live up to those words, tonight. Not after being lied to for so long-…

"Remember what we discussed," Blaise spoke up, interrupting her growing dread. "You go in there and you tell him what you told me. I'll help you through it, I promise."

"…Thanks for doing this, Blaise… I know you're putting yourself in-"

"Don't mention it," he cut her off. "Let's just get this over with."

With that, the ebony wizard pushed the door open, and immediately, they were both hit by the sound of a girl screaming at the top of her lungs. What the fuck?! What is that?!

"Ron?!" Blaise rushed inside, and Pansy promptly followed. What's going on in here?!

"RON! THIS IS NOT DANCING!" Daphne squeeled, not having noticed that she and Ron had visitors. "I'M GOING TO BE SICK, YOU GOAT!"

The tall redhead had the Greengrass heiress slung over his shoulder, cackling like a lunatic as he spun in circles with alarming speed. What… is this? Pansy and Blaise exchanged looks, before they both let out relieved sighs. For a second there, I thought Ron was skinning a cat. Still… This is equally as bizarre… Are they dating, again?

"Ahem!" Blaise loudly cleared his throat, and Ron came to a sudden stop.

"More visitors?!" he laughed, his usually-pale face bright red. Um… Sorry for interrupting… whatever this is…

"…Let me down… please…" Daphne groaned, and Ron did just that, quickly taking her by the shoulders when she almost toppled over. "…Merlin… The room is spinning, Ron…" When her eyes finally focused onto Blaise and Pansy, Daphne turned even more red, hurriedly patting down her messy hair and straightening up her clothes. "Um… What are you two doing up here?"

"The better question is… What were you doing?" Blaise returned, cocking an eyebrow.

"We were dancing, mate," Ron grinned, his eyes locking onto Pansy. "There she is! My champion! Come here! I need a new partner, I reckon! I've worn out my last one!" That's really tempting… One last hurrah before you start hating me…

Before Pansy could answer, Blaise spoke up. "Actually, Pansy has something to confess to you both."

"Confess?" Ron asked, smiling in a bemused manner. "What is it, Pans? Is everything all right?" He then began guiding the dizzy blonde in his arms towards the couches and armchairs. "C'mon, let's talk over here."

Once Daphne was lying down on her back, and Ron was in his favourite chair in front of the fireplace, Blaise and Pansy sat down on a couch across from Daphne. I was hoping to talk to Daphne alone, but it's probably for the best that they're both here. She can help calm Ron down when he inevitably loses it.

"This isn't about Longbottom, is it?" Daphne asked, absentmindedly massaging her forehead. "Just break it off with him, Pansy. You're clearly not happy with how things are progressing. People break up in Hogwarts all the time. It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Wait… You want to leave Neville?" Ron asked, surprised. "Why? What's he done?"

"It's what he hasn't done that's the problem-" Pansy started, but stopped when she noticed Blaise glaring at her. …Right… "Actually, this isn't about Neville. This is… about something I did…"

Daphne sat up at that, curiosity flashing across her face. "What did you do? You didn't go behind Longbottom's back, did you?" What?! No!

"I wouldn't do that, Daphne," Pansy glowered, offended by the mere implication. "I um… I went behind… yours…"

"Pardon?"

"I went behind yours," Pansy said more clearly, drawing in a sharp breath. Just come out and say it. Prolonging this will only make it worse. "During the Ranked Tournament, I didn't beat Mathias fairly… I um… I bought him…" I'm so dead.

"Bought him?" Daphne blinked, looking to Blaise for clarification. "What's she talking about?"

"She bribed him with an expensive Gobstone set," the high-cheekboned wizard explained. "He threw the match on purpose, after putting on a rather pathetic show to convince people he had lost fair and square. She wanted to face you at her best, knowing that Ginevra would tire you out before either of you reached the finals."

"What the…?" Daphne muttered, her confusion quickly turning into outrage. "Pansy?! Is this true?! You set me up like that?!" She then looked to Ron, the one person in the room that Pansy was actively ignoring out of sheer dread. "Can you believe this?! I thought Mathias was having a bad day!"

The raven-haired witch felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead, she could feel Ron's eyes on her. Just keep going! You can do this! "…I just wanted to win… I wanted it more than anything…"

"So, you decided to cheat?!" Daphne hissed accusingly. "I wanted to win too! But I played by the rules! I can't believe you, Pansy! You knew how hard I worked to get to those finals, and you still went ahead and stole my victory!"

"Calm down, please," Blaise intervened, shooting the silent Ron a quick glance. "Her tactics might have been less than honourable, but they weren't malicious. She didn't want to 'steal' from you, she just wanted to prove herself."

"Prove herself?" Daphne glared at Pansy, who shrunk in her seat. "What? As a cheater?"

"…As a person…" Pansy squeaked, lowering her gaze.

"What did you say?"

"She's been feeling as though she doesn't bring enough to the group," Blaise took over, again. "And… Well, to be honest, we don't always treat her with the respect she deserves. It's become a running joke amongst us that Pansy can be… dim-witted, and, despite it not being true, she started to believe it was. Daphne, try and understand… She wasn't trying to hurt you; she was just trying to break free from the label we've slapped onto her."

"Spare me the sob story, please," Daphne grumbled, still seething. "Have I ever treated you as if you were stupid, Pansy? Have I ever undermined you just to get ahead?" …Not really, no… It's mostly the boys that make me feel that way… "I might not always agree with your choices, or your attitude, but I've never dismissed either. I can't believe you did this to me, and for over a month, you've been hiding it, because you knew how wrong it was. This is-… I just can't believe you, Pansy. This is beyond pathetic. I would never do something like this to you. Not ever."

"…I know…" Pansy managed, nervously fiddling with her hands. "I'm really sorry, Daphne."

"Are you?" Daphne asked, huffing in indignation. "Or, are you just here because Blaise dragged you here?" She then looked to Pansy's partner-in-crime. "And you… You've known this entire time, haven't you?"

"Me, Theo, Malfoy… Quite a few people in Slytherin, actually," Blaise confessed, nodding. "I'm surprised you didn't catch on-"

"I didn't 'catch on' because I don't expect my friends to stab me in the back!" Daphne interrupted, slouching back and folding her arms. "…I tried so hard, and you just-… How could you, Pansy?!"

She didn't know how to answer that, so she remained silent and kept her gaze fixed on the coffee table. In the moment, it made me feel clever, but now I know that I just wanted to spite the boys. I wanted to spite Ron. I didn't even consider your feelings, which not only makes me a cheat, but also a terrible friend.

Several moments passed in excruciating silence, until, finally, Ron spoke. "Well done on proving your detractors right."

They all looked to him at that, and his expression made Pansy's heart sink into her stomach. He didn't look angry, or repulsed, or even disappointed. He merely looked sad, his hollow eyes staring through her as if she weren't even there. It took everything in her power to stop herself from breaking into tears, his reaction to the truth was somehow even worse than she had imagined. His gaze eventually veered towards the fireplace, before he slowly rose out of his chair and walked over to the sandpit. …I'll never do something like this ever again… I'm such an idiot…

"…Ich hoffe, du bist stolz auf dich, Parkinson," Daphne said bitterly, sneering as she too got up and left. German? Oh, no…

That was the final straw that broke the camel's back, and Pansy found herself sniffling and sobbing uncontrollably within seconds. Things were finally getting back to normal, again, and I ruined them! I ruined everything! My mother was right! I destroy other people's happiness-!

"C'mon," Blaise whispered, helping her up to her feet. "Don't do this in here. There's a broom-closet not far from here. Let's go there."

"…Okay…" Pansy whimpered, noticing Ron already fighting the P-12 from the corner of her blurry vision. …I'm sorry…

---

Draco Malfoy's POV

Tuesday 1st June, 1994 (Madam Pomfrey's Office - After Classes)

"I'm sorry to hear that there is more tension amongst your friends, Draco," Pomfrey said, offering him a sympathetic smile. Bloody Parkinson… Weasley has literally stopped speaking because of her. And Greengrass… I didn't think she could get any haughtier, but here we are.

"It's not all bad," Draco shrugged. "I can take solace in the fact that I'm not the one who's caused it this time around."

"Still, it must be hard, given that you were already struggling to open up to them." Struggling? I haven't really tried, to be honest. I only feel comfortable 'opening up' around Weasley, and he's bloody mental, so what does that say about me?

"…I suppose."

Pomfrey nodded to herself, jotting down more notes. "Draco… I think, it's time for us to take a break from this." Huh?

"What? Why?" the platinum-blonde asked, visibly surprised. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," Pomfrey assured him, still smiling. "I simply believe that it's time for you to open up to those around your own age. Your friends. Your Housemates. Maybe even students outside of Slytherin. I'm happy to continue our sessions, but until you face your fears, these sessions will be nothing more than a crutch." My fears?

"What fears?" Draco asked, why were people so quick to disregard him?

"Well, your fear of rejection comes to mind," Pomfrey answered bluntly. "You haven't tried to open up to your friends, have you?" The young Slytherin shifted in his seat, but made sure to maintain eye-contact. "It's okay to be scared, especially when you feel alone, but if you let that fear control your actions, then you'll never be able to conquer it. Tell me, what's the worst that can happen?"

He averted his gaze at that, frowning to himself. "…They could laugh in my face. They could tell me to sod off. You don't know how Slytherin works, all right? Everyone is out to get you, to make you look foolish. And Nott and Zabini… They already want me gone. Why should I give them the means to harass me, huh? Why be that stupid?"

"If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you're holding back because of other people, I'll believe you." Damn you, woman. Hesitantly, he met her gaze, and yet, he could not bring himself to lie to her. "You don't know how they'll react until you try, Draco. Perhaps, they will mock you, and if they do, then they were never worthy of your friendship to begin with. Or, perhaps, they will listen to you, and then, you won't feel so alone, anymore."

"…I don't see why I have to stop coming here, though?" Draco muttered; he had grown rather fond of these talks.

"The break doesn't have to be indefinite," Pomfrey said encouragingly. "You can come to me whenever you feel overwhelmed, and I promise you, I will be there for you." Really? "However, I would like to see you 'branch out', as you youngsters like to say." No one says that. "It'll be good for you to have a support network consisting of those you can more easily relate to. You will find, in time, that such a system can do a lot more for you than I ever could." …I doubt that, but okay… I trust you…

"When this doesn't work, I'll let you know."

"If you put half as much effort into this as you do in making snarky remarks, I'm sure you'll be fine." I guess, I'll need to pick out a victim, first.

---

Wednesday 2nd June, 1994 (The Library – Late Evening)

Of course, he had ended up here.

He had thought about who he wanted in his 'support network' extensively, as ordered by Madam Pomfrey, and, in the end, his first choice was the only one that made sense. It couldn't be Greengrass; she was still in a foul mood and not particularly fond of him from the beginning. It couldn't be Parkinson; she was entirely self-absorbed and she still resented him for the choices her mother had forced onto her. It couldn't be Tracey; she had her own struggles to overcome and Draco didn't want to burden her any further. It couldn't be Zabini and Nott, both boys still wanted him gone and would only plot against him if he gave them the chance. And, it couldn't be his Godfather, because the man only paid attention to his lonely ward when he had nothing else going on.

There was no other person he could've picked, no other person he wanted to pick. It had to be him, because he was the only true friend Draco had ever made.

"Hello, Weasley," the lowest amongst Slytherin greeted, coming to an abrupt stop at the redhead's table.

Weasley looked up from the mess he called 'casual reading', his brow furrowed. "Draco… How did you find me here?" I spent an hour roaming this accursed castle.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Draco asked, doing his best to sound cordial.

Weasley looked around, as if suspicious of the other boy's intentions. "Is this it, then? You and I finally putting an end to all this sexual tension?" …Gods give me strength… "I mean, no one is around, not even Madam Pince. Come sit on my lap. Don't be shy, now."

"You're not my type," Draco rolled his eyes, taking a seat across from the 'Prodigy'.

"And what exactly is your type?" Weasley questioned, smirking. "I haven't seen you take much of an interest in girls, Slytherin or otherwise. Wait… Don't tell me… It's Potter that makes your giblets hot and sweaty, isn't it? Damn that four-eyed twat, must he have everything?"

"You haven't spoken to anyone in days, Weasley," Draco stated, casually eyeing the sprawled tomes on the table. Some of these delve into the Dark Arts. Intriguing. I'll have a look at them once he's through. "Is this really the direction you want to take with this conversation?"

Weasley's mirth waned, and he let out a bored sigh. "…I just wanted to see if your prick is as pointy as your chin, but whatever… Be a prude…" Is my chin really that pointy? No, don't get distracted. Stick to the plan.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked, deciding to charge through Weasley's defences. "I'm… worried… about you…" Why was that so hard to say?

"Am I all right?" Weasley blinked, visibly surprised. "You, of all people, are worried about me? Really? Did Daphne send you?" Wow… Do I really not talk to him unless I want something? "She did, didn't she?"

He had decided to approach Weasley in a different manner than usual, hoping to just talk to his friend rather than throw his own problems at Weasley's feet. I know I rely on him often, especially when I need favours, but… I never fully realized that, more often than not, I just use him.

"…No one sent me, Weasley," Draco admitted, shifting in his seat. "I'm um… I don't know what to say, honestly… I just want to talk, nothing more. You've been very distant over the last couple of days. So… Are you all right?" I'm abysmal at this, aren't I?

Weasley chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. "I'm not upset with you, if that's what you're worried about. I just don't have much to say, that's all."

"Again, I'm not here to look out for myself… I'm here to-" he stopped, feeling both awkward and frustrated. "I'm trying to 'branch out'." I can't believe I just said that.

"Branch out?" Weasley pulled a face. "Draco, are you all right? In the head, I mean."

"…Forget it…" the platinum-blonde sighed out, getting up to leave. Stellar advice, Pomfrey. You've outdone yourself this time-…

"Sit back down, mate, I'm only pulling your leg. I'm sorry, okay? Just… sit back down. Tell me what's going on."

His shoulders slumped; Draco dropped back into his seat. "…Madam Pomfrey doesn't think she can help me, anymore."

"Oh."

"…Yeah…"

"Well, break-ups are never easy-"

"You are such an arsehole, Weasley," Draco went to stand back up, but stopped only because Weasley started laughing. He's… genuinely laughing… Is he really not upset? Why the silent treatment, then?

"Let me guess, she thinks you need to 'branch out' to people your own age?" Weasley asked, and Draco gave a curt nod. "Yeah, she's given me similar advice in the past. It's not bad advice, but she doesn't really get Slytherin. It's not easy to just go up to people and strike up a conversation. Not unless you're into being told to fuck off." Exactly! "And, we can't really go to people from the other Houses, because everyone hates us. And, by us, I mean you, because everyone loves me." Again, such an arsehole. "Tough situation to be in, init? No wonder you came looking for me."

Draco lowered his gaze, he had planned for this chat to be focused on Weasley, and yet, once again, his friend was the one doing the comforting. Get it together, Draco! Stop being so meek! "I came looking for you because I wanted to hear your voice."

"What?!" Weasley snorted, and Draco felt his face flush. "Coming on a bit strong there, aren't you?"

"…I'm not making a pass at you… What I mean is that… Ugh…" he deflated; his embarrassment written all over his face. "…I'm not very good at this…"

"I don't even know what 'this' is," Weasley sniggered. "But it is making my day brighter, so thank you."

"…You're welcome, I suppose…" Draco muttered, before drawing in a long breath. "Tell me truthfully, are you angry with us? With Parkinson? If you are, then you can talk to me about it."

Weasley stared at him, as if he couldn't recognize the pale boy before him. "You know, I'm actually not angry. I'm not even upset."

"Really?" Draco asked, it was his turn to be surprised. "Why not?" I'm shocked that Parkinson is still walking around with both her legs attached to her hips.

"When she was telling me what she did to win D-Rank, do you know what I kept thinking to myself?" Weasley leaned forward, his expression turning deadly serious.

"What?"

"I fucking knew it." Okay…? "Those four words kept bouncing around in my head. I. Fucking. Knew. It."

"…I don't understand."

"I see a lot more than I let on, and I understand even more," Weasley told him. "I know what the people around me are capable of, and Pansy… As she is right now, she's not capable of much beyond indulging herself. I knew that already, but that's not what good friends are supposed to think, right? They should be supportive and whatnot, right?"

"…Right…"

"I ignored my instincts because I was so desperate to be a good friend, again. I had written you lot off in my head, until I saw you all training for the Ranked Tournaments without me forcing you to, and that made me think… When did I lose faith in my friends? That questions fucked me up, mate. I felt so guilty, so unworthy… And, then, Pansy went and won the tournament, and I convinced myself that I was wrong the entire time. I wanted to be wrong, because the alternative was so much worse."

"But… you weren't wrong…"

"No, I wasn't, because I've gotten pretty good at figuring people out," Weasley shrugged. "Call it a gift, or experience, or wisdom, or whatever… I know what people are capable of, and this business with Pansy only proves to me that I should listen to myself more, rather than bow to sentiment. I let her pull the wool over my eyes, and I adored her while she did it. That's bloody humiliating, isn't it? And I can only really blame myself for it. I knew better, but I still fell for it. So, Draco, to answer your question, I'm not angry, or even upset, with you lot."

"Then, why are you being so quiet?" Draco had to ask.

"I already told you, didn't I? I don't have anything worthwhile to say." Wait… Does he mean to say that he's written us off, again?

"…Do you think we're all like Parkinson, Weasley? You've written us off, again, have you?"

"No, not at all." Oh… "Don't get me wrong, Pansy is a cunning, ambitious, and devious witch, and those traits will take her far if she learns to harness them. I just know now that I'm not the person who will teach her to do that. I don't want to be that person. I've done enough for her, already."

Draco nodded to himself, it pleased him to know that Weasley wasn't angry, and yet, something was still gnawing at him. "You said that you wanted to be wrong about her, about all of us, because the alternative was 'so much worse'? What did you mean by that? What's the alternative?"

"The alternative, which is the reality we're in, is that I made friends with people who are unworthy of me." Draco felt a strange sort of ache upon hearing those harsh words, were they aimed directly at him? "It's lonely at the top, mate, but that's just life, isn't it? I could be like everyone else, and if I were, I'd be no one and nothing. Power comes at a price, and the price I have to pay is being alone. I will always be the sorry sod looking in, because I don't fit anywhere. Not in my family. Not in my group of friends. Not even in the wide, wide world. And, maybe, that's not such a bad thing… Maybe, it's a great thing, because I'm telling you, mate, I'm so tired of being disappointed. I feel like the next person who lets me down is going to end up going missing. And, by missing, I mean dead and at the bottom of a certain, nearby lake." Fucking hell… Who says something like that so nonchalantly? "Are you satisfied, now?"

"…Not particularly," Draco whispered to himself. "Um… Is that why you um…?" Should I really ask him why he was talking to himself? What if that sets him off?

"Why I what?" Weasley asked, waiting for elaboration. "Just say what's on your mind, will you? I'm not going to bite your head off."

"I heard you, Weasley… I heard you speaking to yourself…"

"Speaking to myself?"

"You were having a conversation with yourself one night, and I was awake," Draco explained, staring into the redhead's blue eyes for answers. "You weren't thinking aloud, either, so don't even try and convince me otherwise. You were going on like you were conversing with a person, instead of just rambling to yourself."

Something akin to recognition flashed behind Weasley's eyes, and he smiled in a manner that made Draco's skin crawl. "I was conversing with myself. You got me." He admitted it? I didn't think he would.

"Why? It was…" Draco trailed off. It was fucking creepy, Weasley.

"For the same reason why you're here." Huh? "No one else listens to me."

"…Oh… I see…" Now, it's just sad. "…You could talk to me, if you like. I'll listen."

Weasley titled his head a little, somewhat baffled by Draco's uncharacteristic forwardness and willingness to lend an ear. He's probably going to say no to-… "Sure, Draco, I'd like that."

"You would?" the platinum-blonde blinked, more surprised now than Weasley.

"It would be good for us both, I reckon," Weasley shrugged, smiling. "I enjoyed this talk of ours quite a bit more than I thought I would. I had some things to get off my chest, and you let me do that. So, yeah… Let's do this, again, sometime." Madam Pomfrey was right, it actually worked. What do I do, now? "You all right?"

"Um… Yeah…" Draco nodded, he'd never felt elated and awkward at the same time. "So… When should we talk, again?"

"You want a schedule?" Weasley sniggered. "Mate, I'm not Madam Pomfrey! If you want to talk, then just talk. I mean, we already do that, don't we?"

"You either make fun of me, or you give me lectures," Draco pointed out, scowling as he didn't appreciate being laughed at. "That's hardly talking, is it?"

"Fair enough," Weasley grinned. "From now on, I'll try talking to you, instead of talking at you. Sound good?" Draco merely gave a curt nod in response. "Just one thing, though… You have to start calling me Ron going forward."

"What? Why?" Draco demanded, scowling, again.

"Because friends use each other's names," Weasley's grin grew evermore annoying. "I call you Draco, don't I?" Yeah, and I don't like it. "So, you'll call me Ron."

"Why do you have to make things harder for no reason?" Draco demanded.

"Why are you so embarrassed by the fact that we actually get along?" Weasley asked in response, causing him to lose his scowl. "What? We Weasleys aren't good enough for you Malfoys? I thought you'd grown out of that, mate."

"…I have…" Have I, though? I don't know why, but some part of me still doesn't like the fact that I rely on him of all people. That's wrong of me, isn't it? To depend on him, and yet, to deny his friendship because my parents wouldn't approve? It's unfair to him-…

"Your parents filled your head with hate, Draco, and look at you, now. Even after all I've done for you, you still refuse to see me as a person. I'm just Weasley to you, aren't I? I'm just the shield that keeps you safe in Slytherin, and the owl that delivers letters to your mother behind everyone's back." Draco averted his gaze, feeling more ashamed than he cared to admit. "Your parents fucked up your head, they really did, but I'm still convinced that I can unfuck it." …'Unfuck' isn't a word… "My name is Ron, Draco, and I'd like to hear you say it."

Draco stared at the books on the table, thinking about all the doubts he'd grown to have about his parents' teachings. There's no point in denying it, they were wrong about so many things. So many people. If this year has taught me one thing, it's that a person's birth doesn't determine their character. Being born a Malfoy hasn't made me better than anyone, whereas being born a Weasley hasn't made him worse. Our worth is determined by our actions, by our resolve, and not understanding that early on is what lost me my friends to begin with. Am I really so foolish as to lose the only friend I have by making the same mistake?

"…Ron…" Draco muttered, feeling his face flush.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," the redhead leaned forward, placing a hand to his ear. "Speak up, please." Ugh… Smug bastard…

"Ron," Draco repeated, looking up and speaking more clearly. "Happy, now?"

"I am," Ron smiled proudly, leaning back and shooting him a wink. "Thank you, Draco."

The grey-eyed boy picked up the closest book and began reading through it, not wanting Ron to get the satisfaction of watching him turn as red as a beet. There's no more avoiding it, then. We're proper friends, and he knows it, now. Merlin, he's never going to let me forget this moment, is he? What have I done?

---

Percy Weasley's POV

Thursday 3rd June, 1994 (Head Prefects' Office – Late Evening)

"Let's take a break, Percy," Carey broke the silence, making him look up from his notes. "I can't keep staring at these books. I'll go mental."

"N. E. W. T.s are only two weeks away," Percy stated blandly, returning to his studies. "You can take a break, if you like, just don't disturb me." She's been acting off for months, now. First, she stopped speaking to me out of the blue, then I started noticing her watching me, as if she were spying on me, and, now, she's gone back to how she used to be, except she doesn't flirt half as much. Not that I'm complaining about that last part, of course. I'm too busy for her games, anyway-…

A pair of delicate hands came into view, closing his notebook. Percy looked back up with a frown, but Carey simply smirked teasingly in response. What is her problem?!

"Carey, I really don't have time for your antics, tonight."

"Sure, you do," the blonde leaned seductively on the table, making him tense a little. "We're taking a break, aren't we?"

"…We don't have time for breaks," Percy whispered, trying his hardest not to steal a glance at her exposed collar-bones. Why isn't she wearing her tie? A Head-Girl should wear her uniform properly, so she can set the right example.

"We both know you're going to get perfect scores, Percy," Carey laughed, her voice as smooth as silk. "Perfect scores that are going to take you very, very far in the Ministry." The generally-stern wizard swallowed thickly, she knew how to get his blood pumping. "So, please, spare a few minutes for little old me? Before you leave me in your dust?"

"…I doubt I'll be leaving you in my dust…" Percy managed, removing his horn-rimmed glasses and cleaning them in a sorry attempt to look more detached. "Are you still planning to join the Wizengamot's administration team?"

"Oh, I've already been accepted," Carey revealed, her smirk growing more smug when he failed to hide his surprise. Already accepted?! How?! "The Headmaster still has friends within the court, and his recommendations have finally paid off. I just have to get Exceed Expectations on my N. E. W. T.s, and I'll be sorted." Why is the Headmaster personally recommending her? My grades are far better, as is my work ethic, and he hasn't even looked in my direction. What's going on here? "Oh, Percy… You're not happy for me?"

"…Um… Of course, I am…" Percy muttered, lying. "Congratulations, Carey."

The Slytherin laughed mischievously, moving around the table with swaying hips and planting herself on the armrest of his chair. "Admit it, you're too competitive to be happy for me. You're probably wondering why the Headmaster went to such efforts on my behalf, aren't you?" Damn it, am I that obvious?

"I am not, I assure you," Percy lied, again. "You're a good student, and-"

"I'm an excellent student," Carey corrected, casually stroking his hair behind his ear. "You're so cute, you know that?" Percy didn't know how to respond to that, his intelligence failing him, so he opted to stare at her as if he were mute. …I should be studying… She's only teasing me, as usual, so why am I falling for it? "Cat got your tongue, Percy? Allow me to help you find it." …What?

Carey leaned down and planted her lips on his, causing him to freeze. SHE'S KISSING ME?! What is happening?! She had never gone this far before, and Percy found himself too shocked to even breathe. He just sat there, as still as stone, while she tenderly massaged his lips with her own. But, soon enough, heat bubbled from his core and spread through his entire body, and just as he finally mustered the wit to actively participate, she pulled away with a satisfied purr. …That was… amazing… I don't know what's gotten into her all of a sudden, but I-…

"I can't help you find your tongue if you don't part those pretty lips of yours," Carey whispered, tracing her finger along his jawline. "Open your mouth for me, Percy."

He nodded dumbly, and when she kissed him again, he did as he was commanded. Her tongue playfully poked at his, as if goading it to come out and play, and the Gryffindor answered the call with tremendous enthusiasm. She seemed to like that, because she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss, moaning into his mouth. I can't believe this is happening! I thought she only ever wanted to get under my skin, to get a reaction out of me, but no… Is she actually interested in me? Why? I don't get it. She's beautiful enough to get anyone she wants, so why me? I'm not exactly a catch, am I? I just don't understand witches-…

She suddenly broke the kiss, much to his disappointment. "Whatever is distracting you right now, put a stop to it. Just enjoy this with me, okay? You can overthink things later." Legilimens!

"…Sorry…" Percy muttered, flushed and flustered. "…I just-… Sorry…"

Carey gave him a comforting smile as she pulled her arms back, moving off the armrest and offering him her hand. Percy took it without hesitation, allowing her to lead him towards her desk, which was significantly less cluttered than his own. What is she planning? Merlin, do I even care? I just want to keep going, now. She guided him so that his rear rested on the edge of the desk, her warm mouth swiftly finding his neck in order to kiss, lick, and scrape her teeth along the length of it, her hands roaming freely across his lanky chest as she devoured him. Oh, Gods, that feels amazing! How is she so good at this?! It had been so long since Percy had been intimate with a witch, not since his breakup with Penelope, and the way this interaction was going, he wasn't going to be intimate with Carey for long.

"…Merlin's Beard…" Percy sighed pleadingly, his knees buckling when she pulled back with the naughtiest expression he'd ever seen. …She's so fucking gorgeous… I'm not going to last more than a minute, am I? I'm already close, and she hasn't even touched my-…

"Turn around and put your hands on the table," Carey ordered, her tone was full of authority despite her palpable delight. "Hurry, now."

"Um… Okay…" Percy whispered, timidly turning around and placing his hands on the desk. "Carey, what are you planni-?"

His words were cut off abruptly as he let out a surprised yelp, she had slithered up and pulled him into her embrace, her right hand reaching around and cupping his manhood. "Let's see what we're working with, shall we? Hmmm, I knew you'd be big, and as always, you don't disappoint." Percy groaned as she continued her 'inspection', her fingers examining his form through his trousers. "Someone is getting excited, isn't he? When was the last time you released your… stress?"

"…It's… been a few days…" Percy panted, wincing when she squeezed his testes. "…That hurts, Carey…"

"A little bit of pain can be a wonderful thing… Let me prove it to you," Carey whispered in his ear, before biting his earlobe. "I'm going to wring you dry, Head-Boy."

Her other hand deftly loosened his tie and undid the top-half of his buttons, before sliding inside and roughly pinching his right nipple. Percy hissed in response, out of both pain and arousal, and immediately, embarrassment tore through him. She had him entirely at her mercy, he realized, and he didn't want that to change. He had always spent every waking moment being in control of everything, he didn't know how else to function, and yet, she had snatched all that control away from him in a matter of minutes. She was in control, now, and that excited him more than anything else ever had. The mere thought of what else she had planned for him made his arms shake, and when her right hand slipped past his waistband, Percy collapsed onto his elbows with a whimper. Carey laughed, not mockingly, but excitedly, her elegant hand hot upon his swollen member. I've never felt like this before… Is she using Magic on me? How else can this feel so good? I don't know, and honestly, I don't even care. I just don't want her to stop-…

"Spread those long legs of yours for me," Carey instructed, and he did so without delay. "That's much better. I don't think you realize how tall you are." She rose up onto her toes before resting her torso upon his back, her hand dexterously pumping away without missing a beat. "I've lost count of how many times I've played this moment in my head. You writhing under me, my hand undoing that sour expression you always wear." Really? Wow… She really is into me! "How does it feel to bend over for a witch, Percy?" I can't even begin to describe it!

"I… feel like the roles… should be reversed…" Percy moaned, his toes curling in his polished shoes. Shut up, you idiot! What are you saying?! Just be glad you're lucky enough to catch her interest!

"If you play your cards right, handsome, they will be," Carey promised, her honeyed voice pushing him closer and closer to his limit. "Our break will only end when I've relieved all of your pent-up stress."

"…It's going to end sooner than you think, then," Percy whined, strangely feeling even more aroused when she began grinding against his arse.

"You've got plenty stored away for me, don't you?" Carey hummed, her left hand resuming its assault on his sore nipple. "I. Want. Every. Last. Drop." Oh, Gods!

Percy moaned, again, louder this time, his eyes fluttering as he neared his release. "…Carey, I'm almost… there… Slow down, please…" I don't want this to end, yet! I haven't felt this good in months!

"Is that what you really want?" the Slytherin teased, pinching him harder as well as tightening her grip. "For me to slow down?"

"…Yes, and no…" he admitted, turning even more red in the face when he caught himself bucking his hips. "…I don't want this to stop, but I can't last much-"

"This is only the first round, you silly boy," her breath felt hot against the back of his neck, giving him goosebumps. "As I said, we're not stopping until I have every last-"

A sudden knock at the door interrupted them, and within a heartbeat, Carey had withdrawn from him, leaving him a trembling mess upon her desk. Fuck! I was so fucking close! Whoever that is, I'm going to kill them! Shakily, he pulled himself up, breathing erratically as he fumbled with his buttons and tie. I can't believe this! A few more strokes, that's all I needed! What the fuck?!

"Who could it be?" Carey hissed to herself as she marched towards the door, her voice anything but silky and smooth, now. "…First time in forever I've had any fun, and it gets interrupted? You've got to be joking." She unlocked the door and yanked it open, not hiding her displeasure. "Diggory? What do you want?" Diggory?

Percy turned his back towards the door, still struggling to collect himself. His breathing was slowly returning to normal, but he was still flushed and supporting a tent in his trousers. He could hear Carey and Diggory whispering to each other in the background, but his own thoughts were so loud that he couldn't make sense of what they were discussing. I can't believe that just happened. What's gotten into Carey? She's never been this forward, not in all the time I've known her. She flirts and teases, everyone knows that, but even then, she does it without being so direct. This was… something else… I mean, she just kissed me out of nowhere! And, then, she had me-… Merlin, I can't believe she bent me over the table like that! And I liked it… Hell, I loved it… What's wrong with me? What's wrong with her? She mounted me, and was grinding on-…!

"There was an incident at the library," came Carey's voice, making Percy jump a little.

"I-Incident?" Percy turned around, blushing scarlet when he locked eyes with her. "What incident?"

Carey's mirth was now gone, and once again, she looked withdrawn and uninterested. Is she upset about us being interrupted? "The fourth-year Ravenclaws were studying for their exams, and when they tried to take some books from the shelves, they were Hexed. Five of them are bright yellow, now." What?! "Someone has booby-trapped the library, it seems. The Professors, and prefects, are there right now. Diggory came to collect us." Hexed books? That sort of Magic isn't easy to pull off, and it couldn't possibly be Peeves because that's not how he operates. He likes to be there when he plays his pranks, because he knows he'll never get into trouble. Bloody hell… It was them, wasn't it? It's always them, especially around this time of the year, right before exams.

"Um… Carey…" Percy murmured, watching her as she impatiently moved around her desk and collected her wand from the drawer. I guess, that means she didn't use any Magic on me, after all. "What we just did… You've been rather distant lately, and then, all of a sudden, you come onto me like that… What was that about?"

"Does it matter, anymore?" Carey asked in response, looking at him expectantly.

He didn't know why, but he knew that what he said next would actually matter a great deal. "…I suppose, it doesn't…" We were both stressed, that's all. Yeah, that had to be it. She wanted to take her mind off of her studies for a bit, and I happened to be in the same room as her.

Carey kept staring at him, the expectation behind her eyes gradually dimming until it was completely gone, after which she let out a disappointed sigh and walked away. "…I'll see you there, Weasley." Weasley? What's with the sudden cold shoulder? What did I do? It's Diggory who interrupted us? Why is she being cold towards me? Witches, I swear… They're harder to read than any tome I've ever come across.

---

One Hour Later

He couldn't help but steal glances at her.

After having his blood restored to his brain, Percy had started piecing Carey's words together in order to make sense of their bizarre encounter. She had mentioned that she hadn't had any fun in 'forever' upon being interrupted, and, more importantly, she had also admitted to fantasising about him during their debauched act. It was starting to dawn on him that their encounter was anything but bizarre, anything but random, rather it was important to Carey, seeing as she was the driving force behind it. He had played no part in initiating it, nor how quickly it had escalated. She had been the one in control, after all, not him. Still, this new revelation didn't explain whyshe had pounced him to begin with, and why she had left him behind so coldly. Now that I think about it, I know nothing about her. I've been in the same year as her for seven years, now, and yet, she's still a mystery to me. Most of the people in my year are, actu-…

"Find anything, Percy?" Professor Flitwick asked, and the Head-Boy turned his head to his right.

"Not yet, Professor," he replied, chiding himself for getting distracted.

"Carey? What about you?"

"Two books so far, Professor," Carey responded, gesturing towards a pair of Herbology books she had put aside. "Both of them vital for third-years. I think, it's safe for us to assume that whoever is behind this, they want to target students who are revising for their exams." What do you mean by 'whoever'? We all know who did this, you can just say it.

"Percy, I don't want to overstep here-" the Charms Professor started.

"…The twins, I know…" Percy sighed out, a familiar sense of embarrassment washing over him.

It had become a running joke amongst the prefects, and probably the Professors too, that the Head-Boy couldn't control his own brothers. They constantly undermined his authority, and they were just clever enough to always escape their comeuppances. They were, without a doubt, Percy's greatest failures, and he couldn't be happier knowing that, in a couple of weeks, he'd never have to spare them a single thought. Still, I always imagined I'd finally put an end to their reign when I was made Head-Boy… And they beat me… They won, again, and I just have to live with it.

"Professor, I'll stay behind and search the library," Percy volunteered, mostly out of shame. "The others shouldn't have to do this so close to the exams. I'll take responsibility here."

"A gallant offer, but we'll finish up faster if we work together," Professor Flitwick smiled, waving a dismissive hand. "Plus, the faster we deal with this, the quicker we can reopen the library. Madam Pince is furious, and it's only a matter of time before she starts taking it out on us."

"…I understand, Professor." I can't believe they've done this. They might not care about their O. W. L.s, but by what right do they deny other students a chance to get a decent education?

"Percy Weasley! Carey Ductu!" came McGonagall's voice from afar, it was laced with genuine anger. Merlin… She sounds livid.

"You two best get going, I'll take over this section," Professor Flitwick gestured them to go. "Ah, no ladder present… Of course…"

Carey and Percy made their way to the centre of the library, in complete silence, where they found Professor McGonagall speaking with Madam Pince in hushed whispers. They're going to charge me with finding evidence, I bet, and as always, I'll find none, which will result in everyone blaming me.

"…I want them punished, Minerva!" Madam Pince hissed and stomped her foot, looking murderous. "I want them both chained in the dungeons!"

"Irma, please, calm yourself," Professor McGonagall tried, massaging her creased forehead. "We don't know if it was them-"

"Who else could it be?" Madam Pince demanded.

"Peeves could have-"

"Professor McGonagall, with all due respect, Peeves doesn't operate in this manner," Percy interrupted, stepping forth. "And… Well, the twins know how to turn people into different colours. They once turned me blue and slipped me a Sleeping Potion, after which they told my poor mother that I wasn't breathing. She thought I had died in my sleep, and it was-… It was absolutely horrible…"

"Merlin's Beard," Professor McGonagall looked deeply alarmed. Trust me, that was one of their less harmful 'pranks'. They beat Ron's Puffskein to death and hurled its corpse through his window, laughing as they did it. He cried his little heart out for weeks, and if it wasn't for Bill and Charlie, they'd have gotten away with it too.

"This was them, I'm certain of it. Every year, right before the exam period, they launch various pranks to cause mayhem amongst the student-body. This is just the beginning of their rampage."

"See? Even he agrees!" Madam Pince fumed, before fully turning in his direction. "Your brothers have crossed the line this time, boy! I'll have all of you punished!" Yes, it's my fault they turned out the way they did. It has nothing to do with our parents never setting any boundaries. It has nothing to do with our father constantly praising their cruelty as 'clever', or 'funny'. It's all my fault.

"Percy is not to blame for his brothers' actions, Madam Pince," Carey spoke up, surprising him by coming to his defence. "Just now, he volunteered to spend all night clearing up this mess on his own. Throwing him in with those two is incredibly unfair, and petty, of you."

Madam Pince stared at the two Head-Prefects, and then, she drew in a sharp breath and stormed away, slapping a floating book out of her path. Wow… She stood up for me? Percy shot Carey another glance, but she kept her gaze fixed solely on Professor McGonagall. I really don't understand witches, but regardless, I should thank her later. It's rare for anyone to take my side-…

"You two are to search for any evidence that can be traced back to the twins," Professor McGonagall ordered. "Whereas I shall go and find them. They won't be going on a 'rampage' this year, not again!" Oh, please… They will, and we won't ever catch them.

"What sort of evidence should we search for, Professor?" Percy asked, already knowing they'd find nothing. "I doubt the twins left anything behind-"

"I don't know, but I expect you to find it, nonetheless," Professor McGonagall turned to leave. "I will not tolerate a lack of results." There it is… This is just what I need before my N. E. W. T.s. I can't wait to leave this horrible castle behind once and for all.

Once Professor McGonagall was gone, Percy looked back to Carey. "Um… Thanks for that…"

"Don't mention it," she said icily, already walking away from him. "I'll start on this end, you start on the other. We'll meet in the middle." I'm sure that won't take hours and hours… My life will be so much better once the twins aren't a part of it. Once I've secured a position at the Ministry, I'll move out of the Burrow and never see them, again. I don't care about what mum and dad have to say, I'm done with those two bastards.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Friday 4th June, 1994 (Hogwarts – After Classes)

"You wanted to be in charge of Slytherin, didn't you?" Samantha's voice echoed in his head, laced with scorn and envy. "Then it's up to you to protect us from your brothers. They'll target every House, sure, but Slytherin is their favourite. It's always been their favourite, and you're in charge of it, now. We don't care how you do it, just make it safe for us to go about our business without the fear of humiliation constantly looming over us." She was particularly annoying about it, but she was right. Exams are important, especially O. W. L.s and N. E. W. T.s. I put the crown on, and that crown comes with responsibilities. The twins need to be stopped, but I also owe it to them to go about this the right way, which means no violence on my part. They've been good to me, lately. I should honour that too.

Ron knocked on Professor McGonagall's door, and when she ordered him to enter, he did so without delay. "Good evening, Professor."

"Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall eyed him curiously, noticing the large stack of parchments floating behind him. "I take it that those your overdue assignments and homework. Consider me impressed, young man."

"What? You didn't expect me to complete everything in time?" Ron asked, smirking. "Professor McGonagall, consider me offended! Have you forgotten who I am?"

"How can I? When you constantly go out of your way to remind everyone?" McGonagall returned dryly. Why shouldn't I? Unlike you, I actually matter. "Leave your work on my desk, I will distribute it to the Professors later tonight."

Ron waved his hand, and the stack floated over to the table and placed itself gently near the corner. "Before I go, Professor, there is one more matter I'd like to discuss with you."

"What matter, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall looked up from her work, again.

"It's been brought to my attention that the twins are targeting-"

"Yes, yes, I am well aware," she cut him off, vexing him. "However, they have an alibi for yesterday, and no one has seen them anywhere near the library for over a week." People are either lying, or the twins know how to get into the library unseen. I mean, they had that map for years, and they told me they memorised it before passing it along to me. Best I keep that bit of information to myself, though. "Is there anything else?"

"My fellow Slytherins are worried that we'll be their main targets, as we generally are, and-"

"Why bring this to me, then? And not Professor Snape?"

"Because you're the Head of Gryffindor," Ron drew in a deep breath, if she interrupted him again, he was going to break her jaw. "And you shelter them."

"I beg your pardon?" she frowned deeply.

"You. Shelter. Them," Ron repeated slowly. "Let's be frank, please. If you wanted to, you could stop them within a day. You could confiscate the contents of their trunks, or have them followed by the Hogwarts Elves, and all of this would be over. Instead, you allow them to continue their pranks, because, at the end of the day, the Gryffindors are the ones who are laughing." I'm sick of your bias against my House, you old bitch. And, more importantly, I'm sick of being whined at. I'm not leaving until this is resolved.

"I'm going to allow you the chance to apologize and leave my office, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall rose up menacingly, and Ron fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, you're a tough old bird, but I could still kill you with one punch. "Well? I am waiting."

"You'll keep waiting," Ron pulled a seat back, planting himself on it with a frown of his own. "I'm not going anywhere until you promise me that you'll stop the twins this time around. My Housemates are scared, Professor, and I won't allow them to be terrorised by anyone." Anyone but me, that is. "We might not be your favourites, but we don't deserve to fear for our safeties. That is not right. That is not just. So, you give me your word, or I'm sleeping in here tonight."

McGonagall stared at him for several moments, as if trying to intimidate him into leaving, but when that didn't work, she sat back down with a more neutral expression. "There's not a student in Hogwarts that has the gumption to speak to me in that manner, Mr. Weasley."

"Are you sure about that? Because I'm still here."

McGonagall grunted to herself, leaning back in her chair. "I do want to stop them, and even though I cannot prove it, I know they were behind those Ravenclaws turning yellow. Your brothers are… incredibly talented at covering their tracks. And, no, I cannot simply confiscate their possessions, nor can I have them followed in secret… This is a school, Mr. Weasley, and the privacy of each student matters. Their privacies, and their rights. I would never have you followed, for example, despite knowing that you regularly leave this castle without anyone's permission. I would never confiscate your possessions, despite knowing that you enjoy delving into the Dark Arts on a regular basis. At Hogwarts, we choose to nurture our students, rather than mould them to our personal liking." You don't nurture shit. This school is littered with lazy, cruel idiots.

"I'm not hurting anyone with my actions, though."

"Many would say the same about your brothers," McGonagall pointed out. "Sometimes, they go too far, but more often than not, they bring joy and laughter wherever they are."

"Not for the poor sods they target," Ron argued. "You think the Slytherins find it amusing to be humiliated on a weekly basis? It's bad enough that we're generally hated by everyone, but to watch troublemakers be rewarded simply because the victims are from Slytherin? Well, that breeds spite, which then breeds bullying and conflict. I'm not saying we're blameless here, but the twins have spent the last five years tormenting people, and not once have they been properly punished. Well, they did get suspended, but even then, it wasn't because of you."

"We can only act on proof, Mr. Weasley, and unless you have some on you right now, you'd best be on your way," McGonagall returned to her work, but when Ron refused to budge, she grumbled under her breath. "…Circe, give me strength…"

"I don't have proof, but I'm not going anywhere," Ron promised. "I want your word, Professor."

"How about several detentions?" she asked in response. "Until the end of the school year?"

"You'd rather do that than give me your word?" Ron had to ask, feeling that familiar urge to cause bodily harm onto others. "Really? What's the matter with you?"

"I cannot give you my word, because I do not enjoy breaking promises! As for the detentions, you are bringing them upon yourself by behaving in this wretched manner! I am your Professor, Mr. Weasley, and the Deputy Headmistress of this school! I will not be spoken to with such disrespect and disregard by my students, no matter how famous they are! Now, get up, and leave my office!"

"No."

"One hundred points from Slytherin!" Oh, please… You could take away a thousand, and we'd still win in a landslide. "Shall I take more?!"

"Go on," Ron kept his eyes locked onto hers. "You can empty that Hourglass for all I care, and do you want to know why? I came here because my Housemates are scared, my first-years are scared, and they mean infinitely more to me than the House-Cup. So, you do what you have to do, and I'll do what I have to do." Let's see whose will is stronger, eh?

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"Ronald, a word?" came Dumbledore's voice, and Ron turned to see the old man closing the door behind him.

"Ah, she went to you, I see!" Ron grinned, thoroughly pleased with the commotion he had caused. "I must've really pissed her off, then."

McGonagall had lost her temper entirely, shouting at him and even threatening to turn him into a mouse, but, eventually, after realizing that she'd have to use force to vacate him, she had chosen instead to storm off in order to find Professor Snape. And yet, it's the Headmaster who has arrived. I wonder why. Professor Snape probably told her to piss off, seeing as I'm trying to protect Slytherin here.

"Your talent for stirring up drama is as impressive as always, my boy," Dumbledore chuckled, walking over with a twinkle in his eyes. "I have not seen Minerva so enraged in many, many years. She mentioned suspension, and briefly, even expulsion."

"And is that why you're here?" Ron asked, his lips twitching upwards. "You expel me, and I'll kill her." I swear it, I will make her death last for days.

"I figured that would be the case," Dumbledore immediately lost his mirth, nodding to himself. "Ronald, what has gotten into you? Why go so far over something so small?"

"Small, you say?" Ron stood up, turning to face the old man properly. "I'm trying to change Slytherin, Sir, but how can Slytherin change if Hogwarts remains the same? You know as well as I do that we're treated as guilty from the moment we're sorted. Honestly, all I want is for my Housemates to not be targeted by a pair of vindictive, vicious bullies, and I have to fight for that? I have to cause a fucking scene just to be heard? This is ridiculous!"

"Or, could it be that you're actually looking for a fight?" Dumbledore questioned bluntly. "Hence you confronting Minerva instead of coming to me?"

"…I won't deny that I'm bored, this is a boring castle," Ron said, leaning on McGonagall's desk. "But me coming here has nothing to do with my boredom, and everything to do with the twins hiding behind her ugly, out-of-date robes. If they were sorted into Slytherin, do you really think they'd get away with half as much as they do now?"

"I can only speak for the reality that we're in, Ronald."

"Be clever with your words all you like, but you know that you lot favour Gryffindor," Ron scoffed, visibly annoyed. "You want to break the cycle of hatred, Headmaster? How about starting at home, first? People don't just turn into cunts when they get sorted into Slytherin. People like your Deputy Headmistress, and my parents, play a pretty big role in alienating us."

"You couldn't have used a similar argument to sway Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron shrugged in response.

"You need to leave that office of yours once in a while, don't you? A man your age can't afford to sit on his arse all day growing his collection of man-girdles."

"Too mean."

"…Sorry."

"I will help you, Ronald, but you will promise me that you will remain silent as I do so. Your reasoning is sound, but your actions are anything but. I know Hogwarts isn't as exciting as the depths of Mt. Greylock, but that is not reason enough for you to start fighting everyone who crosses your path."

"Oh, please… I've been nothing but well-behaved since I retur-"

"Ronald, enough. Minerva is already on her way with your brothers. I will settle this, here and now, whereas you will control yourself as to not make matters worse." Tsk… Whatever. He has no idea about how patient and merciful I've been. He has no idea about how hard I try to be good, even as I'm constantly let down and betrayed by everyone around me. No, his idea of good is just sitting around letting everyone do whatever they want, and if he gets his way, I'll become just as incompetent as him.

A silence fell over the pair, both of them waiting for McGonagall and the twins to arrive. The moment they did, Dumbledore turned to address them. Let's just get this over with. I'm eager to join London and the others for this evening's training.

"Minerva," Dumbledore greeted, his usual cheery act nowhere to be found. "Fred. George."

"Headmaster, before you say anything else, I want it to be made clear to Ronald here that his behaviour is unacceptable," McGonagall started, shooting the Slytherin a look of disgust. What about the behaviour of your Gryffindors, huh? "He was rude, disrespectful, and completely out of line. He must be adequately punished for this outburst." Outburst? You haven't seen an outburst from me, you Hag, so just be grateful for that.

"I have already given him detention with Severus every night until the end of the school year," Dumbledore said reassuringly. Ha! You mean my Occlumency lessons? Nice one! "Isn't that right, Ronald?"

"Fair is fair, Headmaster," Ron answered, looking to the twins. These two can be such a headache. The old man better shut them down decisively.

"Good," McGonagall gave a curt, before gesturing the twins to step forward.

"Professors, what is this all about?" Fred asked, feigning innocence.

"We've been keeping out of trouble, we promise!" George added.

"Out of trouble?" Dumbledore repeated, he could see right through their little act. "Boys, I already know you were behind the library incident yesterday. I also know that you have a series of pranks planned for this weekend."

"That doesn't sound like us at all," Fred laughed, but immediately stopped when McGonagall shot him a murderous glare. "Ahem… George?"

"Headmaster, we have nothing planned, we swear it," the more reasonable twin tried. "And what's this about the library? Fred and I hate that place. We'd never go near it."

Dumbledore stared into Fred's eyes, before doing the same with George. Did he just read their minds? Oh, my stupid brothers… Underestimating Albus Dumbledore? How arrogant can you get? "You will disarm all of your traps, tonight. You will not turn the third-floor corridor into a tropical quagmire. You will not set Peeves onto the Slytherins. And you will not relentlessly target your brother, Percy, in a bid to make him score poorly on his N. E. W. T.s. Shall I go on?" What?! They'd do that to Percy?! What the fuck?! The twins gawked at the old wizard, before exchanging shaken glances. "I want all of your contraband in my office within the hour. I will return it to you unmolested once the exam period is finished. I will be watching you both most keenly from this moment on. Act wisely." The twins glared at Ron at that, and he knew that they blamed him specifically for ruining their fun. Brilliant. Well, it is what it is. At least, Percy and my Housemates are safe, now. I did my duty to them. "Minerva, you can take it from here."

With that, Dumbledore left the office, leaving Ron behind with three angry Gryffindors. I think, I should get going, before they-…

"Your own brother, you two?" McGonagall turned on the twins, her thin lips pressing tightly together. "Do you have any idea how hard he's worked all these years? Shame on you!" She then looked to Ron, narrowing her eyes. "You got what you wanted, so get out of my office. I don't want to see you before your Transfiguration exam." Agreed.

Ron left without another word, and as he neared the Moving Staircase, he sensed the twins fast approaching him from behind. Here we go! The whining begins! He turned around just in time to see the furious pair come to a stop, it was impossible to tell which one was which when they were this pissed off. Remember, old boy. Control. You've been doing so well, lately. You've stopped yourself from ramming a fire poker through Pansy's mouth several times this week. Don't fuck that up, now.

"You little fucking tattle-tale!" the one on the left hissed. Ah, Fred! "What's your bloody problem?!"

"Do you have any idea how long we've been working on this?!" George demanded, shoving Ron's shoulder. "You just wasted weeks' worth of effort!"

"Shouldn't you be studying for your O. W. L.s, instead?" Ron asked, already repeating Professor Snape's lessons in his head. I'm a river, I am. I flow onwards undisturbed, and if there's an obstacle in my path, I find a way around it. I'm a river-…

"We don't care about O. W. L.s, or any of that tripe!" Fred barked, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. "We were going to leave you and your friends alone, you little shit! Oh, our poor little brother and his swiss cheese of a brain!" We're going there? Really? "What were we thinking?! You've always been a cry-baby, but I can't believe you'd do this to us!"

"This is a new low, Ron, even for you!" George sneered, his jaw tightening up. It's rare to see George this riled up. Usually, Fred's the one who makes the most noise. "Why? Why did you do this? You owe us a decent explanation, at the very least!"

"Because my Housemates look to me to lead, and a good leader protects his people," Ron shrugged, bored in the face of their tantrum. "You might not care about your grades, but other people do. You've no right to cause them harm and unnecessary stress, especially when they're already so anxious. Oh, and Percy? Really? How could you even think that that's all right? He's worked his arse off for years on end, and you want to trip him up right before the finish line?" What kind of brothers are you, exactly?

"He needs to learn to have a laugh, and so do you, apparently!" Fred threw his hands in the air, completely red in the face, now. "You'd best watch your back, 'little brother', because this isn't over!" For your sake, it better be.

Fred barged past him, slamming his shoulder against Ron's as he went. Oh, you motherfuck-…! No, stay calm! It's okay… Just breathe… Don't stoop to his level, because he won't survive it. The Slytherin drew in another deep breath, casually rubbing his shoulder as he looked to George. Well? What about you? You going to hit me too?

"…Bloody Slytherin…" George grumbled under his breath, following after his twin, but having the maturity not to shoulder-bump Ron. They'll never stop throwing that in my face, will they? And McGonagall has the gall to act like her Gryffindors are perfect?

"…We are a river…" the Champion whispered to himself once he completely alone, his eyes glazing over as his heart began beating in his ears like a war drum. "And We won't drown everyone in this fucking castle, because We've put too much work into this Cycle."

---

Friday 4th June, 1994 (Professor Snape's Office – Night)

"You did well, today," Snape called out just as Ron reached the door, causing him to turn around. "With Minerva, I mean. She does indeed shelter those two degenerates, and it's past time someone pointed that out to her." Degenerates? You aren't so different from them, you know? All three of you enjoy kicking down.

"I lost us three hundred points, Sir," Ron reminded the man.

"I will reimburse them over the coming days," Snape assured him.

"Cheers," Ron walked back over and took a seat, smiling. "You're not upset with me for disrespecting her?"

"What you did in Albus' office was unwarranted," Snape drawled. "This was not."

"Tell that to the Gryffindors," Ron chuckled. "Did you see them during dinner, tonight? Not only did I 'sell out' my own brothers, but I mistreated their precious Head of House."

"Do you really care about their stares and comments?"

"No," Ron admitted, shrugging. "I just don't want unnecessary conflict, that's all."

"Keep your head down until the end of exams, then," Snape suggested. "After they're done, you can go back to peacocking wherever you go." Peacocking?

"I don't do that, do I?" Ron sniggered, and Snape gave him a bland look in response. "Okay, maybe I do peacock a little bit… But can you really blame me?"

"Yes."

Ron laughed, throwing his head back. "Sticks and stones may break my bones…" But words will hurt forever. "You're in a chatty mood today, aren't you? Have you finally made peace with someone actually coming through for you?"

"…Don't start with me, boy," Snape warned, growling. He's such a child, sometimes. "I never asked for your help, so don't expect me to start treating you-"

"With respect? With some decency?" Ron cut in, smirking. "It's fine, you don't have to. I'm just glad you're on the mend. I need all the bodies I can find to throw at the Dark Lord, after all."

"How charming," Snape rolled his eye, scowling.

"Aren't I just?!" he wiggled his eyebrows, grinning. "But, in all seriousness, how are you? Are you still in pain? Have you been checked over by Madam Pomfrey?"

Snape shifted in his seat, his eye darting down to his legs for a moment. "There is minor pain where the wound is, but that's it. And, no, I have not been to Poppy. She would have questions that I cannot answer." Oh, I totally get that!

"What else?" Ron asked. "I need to know, Sir. For Tracey's and Astoria's sakes-"

"Astoria Greengrass? You did this to her as well?" Snape hissed, and Ron pulled a face. Shit! I didn't mention her to anyone but Daphne, did I? "Weasley, explain yourself this instant." I'm an idiot, I am. "Talk, damn you!"

"She's sick, and I care about her," Ron didn't know what else to say. "Harkin gave me one leaf, and I split it between you two. She's been looking healthier since, by the way, and she's been eating a lot more too. How's your hunger?"

Snape clenched his jaw, drawing in a sharp breath. "…You can't afford to be so irresponsible, Ron."

"Decisive, you mean?"

"Decisive? Did you even bother to learn of her potential allergies before you slipped her the potion?" Um… No, I didn't.

"Yes, I did."

"…Liar," Snape shook his head in disappointment.

"You can tear me a new one later, all right?" Ron groaned. "But, for now, can you just answer my questions? Please?"

Snape continued staring at him, visibly vexed. "…Yes, I've been hungrier than usual."

"And stronger too?"

Snape used his left hand to easily tilt his entire table towards Ron, surprising the redhead. "Does that answer your question?" Bloody hell… How strong is Tracey, then? She has the benefits of an entire leaf! "There's something else, too. My Magic… It feels more responsive, more potent. At first, I thought my mother's wand had finally stopped holding a grudge, but it's more than that. My body is able to better channel my Magic, which means that the leaf is altering my anatomy. It is… difficult to believe, but the proof is there."

"I don't think it's altering your anatomy, per say. I think, the leaf is constantly repairing your muscles." Channel your inner Madam Roberts, old boy. "Whenever we exercise, our muscles take damage, but when we go to sleep, our body begins-"

"I know, boy, you don't need to lecture me on the benefits of exercise," Snape cut him off. "The leaf seems to be using my larger intake of nutrients to boost my body's functions. It actually induces hunger to be able to do this, and the implications of that are quite alarming. The leaf is acting as though it is a parasite, a living thing able to influence its host's behaviours."

"That sounds a little creepy when you put it like that."

"Well, you're the one who did this to me, so think on that."

"Do you think the leaf could pose a danger to you?" Ron had to ask.

"It is too early to say, but I imagine if food is scarce, the leaf will find the necessary nutrients from elsewhere. My organs, most likely." Oh, shit. "I will have to conduct this experiment-"

"Let's not do that, okay? Let's just assume it's the case, and eat properly."

"You will need to keep an eye on your little friends, Ron," Snape ordered, becoming deadly serious. "We are in uncharted territory, and young girls… Well, they can be quite stupid when it comes to dietary requirements."

"I'll watch over them, I promise." And I'll force-feed them if I have to. "If you discover anything else, let me know."

Snape gave a nod, gesturing him to be on his way. "…Wait… Before you go, tell me this… Did you speak to Albus about Draco?" Um… Yes, I did.

"No, I didn't." Please, believe me this time.

"…I see…" Snape grumbled, frowning to himself. "What's gotten into the old fool?" He lectured you, didn't he? Ha! Hope you enjoyed it! He gave me an earful just before! "You may go, boy. I have work to do."

Ron wasted no time in getting out of the man's office, wondering if Dumbledore had finally managed to talk some sense into the grouchy fool. If he hasn't, then Draco can just come live with me at the Werewolf Sanctuary. There's plenty of room, and it'll be nice to have someone to talk to who doesn't feel the need to walk on eggshells around me. As he pictured himself playing caretaker to Draco Malfoy, sniggering at the idea of tormenting the other boy from dawn till dusk, he found himself crossing paths with his older brother, Percy.

"Ron, can I talk to you for a second?" the lanky seventh-year called out, breaking the Slytherin out of his fantasy of shaving Draco's head in his sleep.

"Perce? What are you doing down here?" Ron asked, surprised to see his brother loitering about the dungeons so late. "Are you on patrol duty?"

"No, I'm not," Percy smiled awkwardly, and immediately, Ron knew his brother wanted something from him. Ugh… More favours? "Word is that you stopped the twins from causing all sorts of chaos. Is that true?" Do you speak to any Gryffindors, mate? Probably not, actually. He's not very popular, especially not in his own House. A shame really, because they could all learn a thing or two from him, and vice versa. "Well? Is it true?"

"It is," Ron gave a nod. "Is that the only word you've heard, though?"

"No… I've heard that you treated Professor McGonagall with the utmost disrespect." No, I didn't. I just stood my ground, and she's not used to people finding her pharisaic attitude pathetic and tiresome.

"Does that disappoint you, brother mine?"

"It does, yeah," Percy answered honestly. "You should respect all of your teachers, Ron. They're on your side, and the only thing they ever ask for in return is your respect."

"My respect is not so easily given, especially to those who annoy me," Ron lost his mirth. "Is there a reason why you were waiting to ambush me? Besides giving me a sermon on good manners?"

Percy remained silent for a few moments, before suddenly giving Ron an affectionate, yet very cautious, pat on the arm. "…I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Ron asked, giving his brother a quizzical look. Is he nervous about touching me? Good. At least, one person can respect my wishes.

"For stopping the twins, of course," Percy explained. "Ron, you know they've been making my life miserable since they were born, right?" I know. "And Professor McGonagall told me to keep my eyes peeled, because, apparently, they wanted to come after me more than anyone else this time around." She told him that? I guess, I know who she prefers, now. "So, thank you, little brother. I'm already so stressed because of my N. E. W. T.s and… other stuff, I don't think I'd be able to handle the twins on top of it all. You really saved me from the fire."

Ron smiled a little, it still felt nice to occasionally be thanked. "Don't worry about it, Perce. And don't worry about your exams, either. You're going to be brilliant." I'll keep the twins' threats to me to myself. No need to add to his worries. "Once you score perfectly, we'll go out and celebrate, eh? Just us two! What do you think?"

Percy smiled more fully, giving Ron's shoulder a squeeze. Why? "I'd love that, Ron. Feels like ages since you and I spent some time together."

"Good luck, mate, and if you need anything from me, just ask," Ron waved goodbye, walking away before he could be pulled into a 'brotherly hug'. That was nice, despite him getting handsy. I generally like talking to-…

"Oh, you can come to me too!" Percy offered at the very last second, as if having remembered to return the courtesy. Merlin, just how stressed is he?

Ron shot a smile back, before continuing on his way to the Slytherin common room. I'll just head straight to my room. I want to avoid even looking at Pansy altogether. Just seeing her mopey face makes me want to drop out of Hogwarts. How is someone like her going to survive the war? Someone so lazy, and so short-sighted, that she can't even be fucked to try for her own sake? Merlin, just thinking about her stresses me to no end. Bloody two-faced-… He drew in a sharp breath, carving the raven-haired witch out of his mind so she could no longer hurt him. Don't waste any more time on her, old boy. She's let you down enough, hasn't she? Focus on yourself, and on those who are still worth your time. Riling yourself up like this helps no one, especially not you.

"Russell's Viper," Ron gave the entrance its password, and it promptly revealed itself. "At least, I've made some difference around here."

Reminding himself of the positive changes he'd already brought; the redhead made his way into the common room. As was usual during this time, the Slytherins were all out and about, but instead of socialising, they were studying in multiple small groups, including Flint and his lot. Everyone's behaving themselves. Good. Even Flint doesn't plan to fail his exams. Again, I mean. I should offer the first and second years some tutelage tomorrow. You know what? I'll extend that offer to all the Houses. Ginny and Luna can spread the word in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and I'll visit the Hufflepuffs myself. Having made up his mind, Ron travelled to his room, walking in and finding his 'friends' studying in a circle on the floor. Ah… Why wouldn't they be in here? It's not like they have an entire castle at their disposal? No, let's make a mess in here, instead. Oh, and look! She's here too… Fucking fantastic… He felt his spirits dampen at the mere sight of Pansy, she'd made a complete fool out of him. …Why Fate picked someone as stupid as me to be her Champion, I'll never know.

"Ron, do you want to join us?" Theo looked up with an inviting smile, he was sitting between Daphne and Pansy. I still can't believe she'd stoop so low just to stroke her ego. Daphne deserved that win, she put in the work and fought with honour, and yet, she was robbed by her own friend. It's a valuable lesson, I suppose… The people closest to us can hurt us the-… "Ron? Are you there, mate? I asked you a question." Just go to bed, Ronnie. No one cares about your 'lectures', anyway. They have, and always will, fall on deaf ears.

"I've had a long day, Theo, and I need some sleep," Ron declined as he headed over to his curtained bed, noticing Pansy shrinking from the corner of his vision. Look at her… Acting like she's some sorry victim. I haven't even done anything to her. No shouting, no punishment, not even an angry look. In her mind, I'm the one who pushed her to cheat, instead of her own poor character. Whatever… I'd better get some sleep if I'm to tutor over thirty-…

"How long are you going to keep acting like we don't exist?" Blaise suddenly asked, stopping Ron. Damn it, I was so close… So fucking close…

"…Blaise, really?" Daphne drawled, dropping the book in her lap with a heavy thud. "Why are you prodding him? He said he needs to sleep, so just back off, okay?"

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Draco added.

"Oh, and here we go," followed Theo's longwinded sigh. "He's got that righteous look on his face, again."

"She made a mistake, Ron, so just get over it," Blaise ignored the others, there was undisputable anger in his voice. One, two, three, four, five, six-… "She's learnt her lesson, all right?! You're just being a prick at this point, and you know it! Why can't you let people make their own mistakes and learn from them?! Why is that so hard for you?!" …Seven, eight, nine, and ten! I'm a fucking river, and I zigzag around all the obstacles in my path! Even though I really, really don't fucking want to, sometimes! "I'm talking to you, Ron. Turn around and look at me, at least."

"…Blaise, stop it…" Pansy squeaked.

"No!" the emboldened wizard refused to let up. "He's been throwing a fit all week long, and I'm sick of it!" A fit? You haven't seen me throw a fit, you little cunt. None of you have, and you ought to be very grateful for that. "Just say what's on your mind, Ron, and let's move on, already. It doesn't have to be this way."

"I told you that I'm tired," Ron said, barely managing to keep his temper in check. "Goodnight." Just remove yourself from their presence before you do something stupid. It's the best solution, honestly.

Pushing himself forward, Ron moved past his curtains and swiftly Charmed them to become sound-proof and tamper-proof. …Alone, at last… Cursing Blaise under his breath, Ron began tearing off his clothes, gritting his teeth when the freshly-acquired bruise on his ribs began to ache due to his jerky movements. Fucking hell! Forgot I fell off the climbing rope during training! Fucking London and her stupid jokes, laughing at me like I don't pay her fucking salary! People keep pushing me, and pushing me, and pushing me… It feels like they all want me to lose it and go on a murderous rampage! The more time I spend with people, the more I find myself empathising with Ravencunt. Maybe, he had a point all along… Maybe, I should just kill everyone… Why should I allow them to keep letting me down? To keep hurting me? To keep disrespecting me? To keep ignoring me? Why shouldn't I just let loose and enjoy myself for once? Bloody hell… It's been so long since I killed a Death-Eater… I'm fucking losing it, aren't I? What the fuck am I even thinking about right now? Am I really that twisted that I'm genuinely entertaining the idea of casual mass murder? Merlin's Beard, they've finally driven me loony, haven't they?

Once he was completely starkers, he crawled onto his bed with his Cypress wand in hand. "…Here's hoping I die in my fucking sleep this time…" He placed the tip of the wand against his hideous, exposed chest, clenching his jaw and preparing himself. "Stupefy!"

---

Hermione Granger's POV

Saturday 5th June, 1994 (The Library – Midday)

The twins had gone too far this time, but, at least, the sanctity of the library had been restored by the prefects. Hermione was fond of the twins, certainly, they could make her laugh even when she was at the end of her wits, but she had always disapproved of their pranks. Hogwarts was a school, after all, not their personal playground, and although she'd never say it aloud, she was glad that Ron had involved Dumbledore and put a stop to his mischievous brothers. Most of her fellow Gryffindors wouldn't agree with her, but then again, most of them were idiots, anyway, so she didn't really care about being in the minority.

"Hermione, what's the difference between-?" Harry started, but abruptly stopped when she shot him a narrow-eyed glare. "…I'll just keep looking for myself, actually. Sorry."

She felt no urge to help him, not after he had confessed to being the reason why the twins had managed to booby-trap the castle without being noticed. That damn invisibility cloak of his… I can't believe he's lent it to them, again, despite knowing what they used it for the first time around. Whatever they're up to now, I just know it's going to be terrible. But does Harry care? No! He thinks the twins are hilarious! So immature!

She had to tell someone, she knew she did, before the twins pulled off whatever they were planning. Professor McGonagall will listen to me. I know she will. Hold on-… What time is it?

"Neville, what's the time?" Hermione whispered, looking to her right.

"Um… The time?" Neville broke out of his daze; he was dreading the exams more than anyone else. "It's just over twelve, I think." Oh, no! I'm supposed to be returning the Time-Turner to Professor McGonagall right now!

"Thanks, Neville," Hermione shot up to her feet, packing up her Potions notes in a hurry. "Don't worry, when I get back, I'll help you make sense of whatever's troubling you. Promise."

Relief washed over Neville's face, and he smiled up at her gratefully. "You're the best, Hermione! Thank you!" You're very welcome!

"Not you, though," Hermione hissed at Harry, narrowing her eyes, again. "You can go to the twins, since you think they're so clever."

"…I figured as much…" the Boy-Who-Lived sighed out, deflating. Your father didn't leave you that cloak for you to cause mischief with it! Shame on you, Harry James Potter!

She rushed towards the exit with her notes in her arms, only to run into a large group of first and second years that were shuffling into the library. What's this?! Despite her surprise, everything made sense the moment she spotted Ron at the back of the group. Oh! He must be tutoring them for their exams! That's so nice of him! She stepped aside to let the younger students pass her by, giving Ginny a quick wave when they met each other's gaze. Oh, and Luna's here too! I'm still not sure how I feel about her, but I don't think she means ill when she disagrees with me. It's just that she says some really dumb things-…

"Strange to see you leaving the library, Hermione," Ron's voice cut through her thoughts. "I imagined you camping in here until the exams were finished." …I asked, but Madam Pince said no…

"I wouldn't do something like that," Hermione laughed nervously, and Ron smiled bemusedly in return. Warn him about his brothers, you fool. Wait, no… That'll just stress him out for no reason. Go to Professor McGonagall, instead. "…Ahem… I have to go-"

"Are you okay?" Ron asked. "You seem… distracted…"

"I'm not dis-…" she stopped, biting her bottom lip. Oh, sod it! He should know! They're probably after him, seeing as he's the one who told on them! "Harry let the twins borrow his invisibility cloak, that's how they booby-trapped the entire castle without being seen." Ron blinked. "They asked him for it again this morning, and he handed it over. They're probably using it right now to sneak about Hogwarts." She drew in a sharp breath. "…I just thought you should know, because I've never seen them so angry before."

Ron gave a slow nod, looking somewhat alarmed. "…Thanks, Hermione. I'll keep my eyes and ears open, then."

"…Okay," Hermione offered him a sorry smile. "Harry doesn't really think these things through. He just likes to help his friends-"

"It's fine, I get it," Ron stopped her, returning her smile. "You're a good friend for giving me a heads-up. I appreciate it."

"I'm also going to tell Professor McGonagall," Hermione added. "I know she's mad at you, but she'll stop them."

"If you do tell her, share that with no one else," Ron warned. "If the twins find out, you'll end up on their list right next to me." Usually, I wouldn't care, but our exams start on Monday, and I don't want them distracting me. Unlike the rest of us, the fifth and seventh years don't have their exams until the week after, which'll give the twins plenty of time to torment me.

"I'll see you in here in a bit?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I'll be studying alongside the midgets," Ron confirmed.

"Don't call them that, Ron. It's rude."

"You're right… I'll be studying alongside the small cunts." Ew! Don't use that filthy word! Please! "Better?"

Hermione shook her head in disapproval, fighting the urge to smile when he grinned at her. Just go, before he gets to you! She huffed haughtily as she moved past him, leaving the library behind for now. It didn't take her long to reach Professor McGonagall's office, as she knew every single shortcut from the library, and once she'd made herself known with a polite knock, she entered with an apology at the ready.

"I'm sorry for being late, Professor McGonagall," Hermione blurted out, she hated disappointing her favourite teacher. "I was studying, and I lost track of-…"

"Time?" the man sitting across from Professor McGonagall cut in, chuckling eerily. Who's this? "Ironic, given that you have a Time-Turner, Miss. Granger."

Hermione studied the man as he turned to face her, and immediately, she felt her skin crawl. He was an albino, bald and eyebrow-less, his bloodshot eyes trapping hers with the intensity behind them. She tried to avert her gaze, but she simply couldn't. No, she couldn't even move, no matter how hard she tried, but just as panic began to rise from her belly, whatever invisible force was holding her in place let her go.

Hermione let out a shaky breath, her knees trembling. "…What was that?"

"You were to wait for her permission, Professor Button," Professor McGonagall said disapprovingly, visibly displeased. Professor Button? Professor of what?

"It's better when they don't know what's happening," the albino man chuckled, once again making Hermione's skin crawl. He's creepy… I don't like him… "Stops them from trying to hide valuable information." What information? Who is he?!

"Professor…" Hermione muttered, looking to the Transfiguration Master. "What's going on here? What just happened?"

"Don't be alarmed, Miss. Granger," the old witch said, quick to offer the younger Gryffindor a reassuring nod. "This is Professor Ben Button, an Unspeakable. You've met him before." I have? No way… I'd remember that face. "He is the one who gave you the Time-Turner at the start of the school year, as part of his research. And, just now, he's gone through your memories in order to collect his results." I'm so confused right now. "Please, return the Time-Turner to him."

Still baffled, Hermione pulled the Time-Turner out from beneath her shirt, she'd been wearing it around her neck for safekeeping. Undoing the clasp, she handed the Time-Turner, and the chain it was attached to, over to Professor Button, who studied the object with great interest. I've never met him before, I'm certain of it. He stands out too much to simply forget-…

"I erased your memories the first time around, girl, but this time, I will let you keep them," Professor Button spoke, his sore eyes never leaving the Time-Turner. What?! You Obliviated me?! That's against Magical Law! "I had your permission, of course, but you wouldn't remember that, either." He then looked up, offering her as pleasant a smile as he could muster. "I know I'm not exactly easy on the eyes, but I'm not a bad person. I'm just doing my job."

"…Oh… I didn't…" she trailed off, feeling a pang of guilt. "Sorry, Sir."

Her mother and father had taught her to never judge a person by their appearance, but rather, by their actions. Sorry, mum and dad, I was just caught off-guard-…

"You have an exceptional mind, Miss. Granger," Professor Button suddenly complimented, surprising her. "Even adults struggle to keep a sense of linearity when they use Time-Turners over long periods of time, but you managed it just fine. I am most impressed."

"…Thank you, Sir."

"Hermione is one of the brightest witches I've ever had the pleasure of teaching," Professor McGonagall smiled, making the younger witch blush. She really means that?! YES! "I told you she'd be the perfect candidate for your research, didn't I?"

"You did, and I am grateful for it," Professor Button shot a smile back, before focusing on Hermione, again. "When you're finished with Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, I'll reach out to you. A witch like you deserves to discover the greater mysteries of our Universe, instead of having your intelligence wasted on the mundane. We would be lucky to have you." Did I just get a job offer?! At fourteen?!

Hermione beamed, feeling more confident than ever. "Thank you, Sir! I look forward to hearing from you!" Yes! I can't wait to tell mum and dad about this!

"You can't tell anyone, of course," Professor Button chuckled, as if he'd read her mind, again. "We're called the Unspeakables for a reason." …Oh… "Good day to you both."

"Good day, Professor Button," Hermione moved out of the man's way. "Wait… Can I um… ask what the research is for?"

"Curious thing, isn't she?" Professor Button turned around with a smile. "That's good. Nurture that curiosity, Miss. Granger. You will need it."

"I must admit, I also can't help but wonder…" Professor McGonagall leaned forward. "What is this research for, exactly?"

Professor Button wagged his thick index finger, tutting. "If I tell you, I'll have to Obliviate you, won't I? We don't want that, do we? Curiosity is a good thing, but it can also prove to be a dangerous thing if not tempered with good sense." Hermione exchanged a look with the Head of Gryffindor, the pair of them silently agreeing to drop their enquiries. "Oh, and before I go… Someone powerful may have tampered with this girl's mind." …Pardon? "If not for my extensive training, even I'd have missed the subtle signs of foul play."

"What did you see?" Professor McGonagall stood up, whereas Hermione went pale in the face. Who would tamper with my mind?! And why?!

"I saw nothing at all, but that in itself is strange," the Unspeakable shrugged. "It is not uncommon for children to forget entire days and nights of their life, but Miss. Granger here is no uncommon child. She has a strong memory, and save for that one night in September, she has a record of each other night still intact. I could be mistaken, of course, as I've become rather paranoid due to my work, but you should still take this to the Headmaster. Just to be safe. Goodbye."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"Well, Albus? Have you found anything?" Professor McGonagall asked, and the Headmaster removed his wand from Hermione's temple. This is not how I imagined my day would go.

"There is indeed a night missing from early September, but I've found some other nights too, including one as recent as March," Professor Dumbledore reported. Really? That's weird, isn't it? "Do not be alarmed, Miss. Granger, it is very easy to get stuck in our routines. Our memories can become muddled together as a result, which often ends with a handful of days going 'missing'. There is no 'foul play' here, be assured of that. You are simply a very active young woman, one who has been under an enormous amount of stress." That's true. I've had nights this year where I felt like I was going barmy.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, as did Professor McGonagall.

"Think nothing of it, my girl," the Headmaster returned to his seat, reaching into his drawer and pulling out a jar of lemon-drops. "Take as many as you like."

With a grateful smile, Hermione took a couple and popped them into her mouth. "Thank you." Zesty!

"Are you sure you don't want more?" the Headmaster chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "They are good for you, you know?"

"They are not," Professor McGonagall countered. "Come, Miss. Granger. You have exams to prepare for, and I must return to my own duties." She then gave Professor Dumbledore a parting nod. "Albus."

"Best of luck to you both," the Headmaster beamed, taking a fistful of lemon-drops for himself before putting the jar away. He's going to eat all of those in one sitting? That can't be good for his teeth!

Deciding to mind her manners, Hermione followed Professor McGonagall out without questioning her Headmaster's sweet-tooth. Today's been something else, honestly. I met an Unspeakable, who offered me a job, and I even got a treat from Professor Dumbledore himself! It's been so exciting! I wish I had more days like this!

It wasn't until they reached the Moving Staircase that Professor McGonagall broke the comfortable silence between them. "How is your revision going, Hermione? Are you feeling confident?"

"For the most part, Professor," Hermione confessed, she was so relieved that the year was coming to an end. "I'm just worried about Divinations, because I'm not sure what we'll be tested on. Professor Trelawney is-… Well, I shouldn't really say." She's a crackpot and a complete moron. She has no business teaching her nonsense at this school.

"I am proud of you for not dropping any of your subjects," Professor McGonagall told her, making her ears twitch. Everyone is being so nice to me, today! This is the best day ever! "I know you've come to see Divinations as inane, and Muggle Studies as redundant, but the Unspeakables are very selective with whom they choose as potential employees, and these two subjects will definitely help you if you choose to pursue such a career." Then, I'll stick with them, even if they bore me to death.

"What do the Unspeakables actually do, Professor?" Hermione asked curiously.

"They study the Universe in a bid to understand life itself," the older witch replied. Wicked! "Of course, the nature of their studies is kept secret. No one truly knows what the Unspeakables get up to down in the Department of Mysteries. Even Albus hasn't been down there, as far as I know. Professor Button mentioned that he 'worked with Time', but again, I've no notion of what he truly meant by that."

"Worked with Time?" Hermione muttered to herself. Like Doctor Who?! Oh, I can't imagine the look on dad's face if I ever told him that I could someday be a time-traveller like the Doctor! He'd beg me to take him along, I bet!

"If you truly wish to learn more about that secretive lot, you'll just have to join them when you're older," Professor McGonagall offered her another one of her rare smiles. Best! Day! Ever! "Now, before we part ways, there is something I'd like to ask you." Oh?

"Of course, Professor."

"You are friends with Ronald Weasley, are you not?" Ron? Why is she asking about him all of a sudden? "And you still see him as a rival of sorts?"

"…I am, and I do."

"Then, as his friend and rival, you should do your absolute best to outdo him in the exams," Professor McGonagall said, though it sounded more like a command. "That boy needs a strong dose of humility, and I can't imagine anyone else in your class delivering one to him but you." Um… Is she really that mad at him? What did you do, Ron? All I keep hearing is that you made her so angry that she was running around the castle looking as red as a tomato. "Well, Hermione? Do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know, but I was going to try to, anyway," Hermione confessed, and Professor McGonagall let out a soft chortle. She actually laughed?! I made her laugh! "Actually, Professor… You just reminded me of something I was supposed to tell you." It almost slipped my mind with everything going on.

"Is that so? Go on, then."

"It's about the twins…" Hermione started, and instantly, Professor McGonagall lost any and all of her mirth.

"What have those two done, now?" she grumbled, her lips pressing together tightly. "I swear, if they didn't have O. W. L.s to sit, I would…" she trailed off. "Tell me everything, Miss. Granger."

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 5th June, 1994 (Hafren Forest – Evening)

"You're quite good at this," Director Reid complimented, making Daphne perk up.

"It helps that we're doing this on a piece of ham," she returned, playfully smacking the meat. "…I probably shouldn't do that to a patient, right?"

"Not unless they ask, no."

"How often do you have to stitch people up?" Daphne asked, continuing on with her practice. Oh, that one is a bit too far from the last. "By hand, I mean?"

"Pretty much never," the handsome Vampire chuckled. "Still, I make all my apprentices do this so they can appreciate how easy we have it. Magic is a gift, Daphne, a gift that allows us to protect and heal our fellow man. You must respect it, treat it with the reverence it deserves. There are millions of Healers out there who don't have Magic, and they have to spend decades learning techniques we can master within weeks. We are incredibly privileged, never forget that." I think, I get it. Muggle Healers must be very dedicated, and he wants me to learn from their example. "Have you ever considered becoming a Healer?" This question, again?

"Chief Zotair asked me the same question last week," Daphne stopped stitching, looking to the Director. "And I've been thinking on it, though I still haven't come to a decision."

"You have plenty of time, my dear, so there is no rush. I simply asked because you have a comforting presence and a kind heart. The best Healers always do." He then inspected her work on the ham, nodding approvingly. "And there is talent, too. You have steady hands." I do? "With a bit more practice, you could teach some of the younger staff at St. Mungo's, even."

"I doubt that, Sir, but thank you," Daphne smiled more fully. He's really cheered me up, today. "Speaking of St. Mungo's… Are you really leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes." …I see… "Does that disappoint you?" A little bit, yeah.

"You also have a duty to your staff and patients, so I understand."

"I've done all I can here, though I will still return on the weekends to conduct check-ups," Director Reid said reassuringly. "We've saved lives here, you and I, and now, all we can do is wait for your friend to find the survivors a new home."

"He's trying, but…" Daphne trailed off, shaking her head.

"No one will accept them?"

"Not even other Centaurs, no," she confirmed solemnly. "You know, as naïve as this may sound, I never once considered how heartless people can become when their pride is challenged. Not until recently, that is." Like my father with this tribe. Like Ron whenever someone disagrees with him. Like me whenever I feel cheated. I want to forgive Pansy, I really do, because I know she is sincerely sorry, and I remind myself to be more like Chief Zotair over and over again, but whenever I see her, all I can think about is how much she milked winning that tournament. It makes my blood boil, and I just can't get over it. "Pride can be a terrible thing, is what I'm trying to say. The other Chiefs are too proud to accept 'damaged goods', even if it leads to the deaths of their fellow Centaurs." Should I ask him for advice on what to do about Pansy? "Sir, have you ever… um… Have you ever tried to conquer your pride?"

"Many, many times, Lady Greengrass," he replied, smiling in an understanding manner. "And, no, it was never easy." …Damn… "The truth is that our pride is an important part of us, a vital part of us, and having no pride can be just as harmful as having too much of it. Humility, I've found, is the only medicine that works on moderating pride." Humility, huh? I can't really claim to be humble, to be honest. I think quite lowly of other people, I always have, especially if I don't like them.

"How do I go about becoming more humble, then?" Daphne asked, and the Vampire laughed jovially. What? I'm being serious!

"Life will teach you," he answered, eventually. "And, if you're wise, you will heed its lessons." That doesn't really help me. "Do not fret, my dear, you are already wiser than many I've come across in my long life. Do you honestly think your own father has ever asked himself these questions? Or, gone to his elders for guidance?" No. He always taught me that a Greengrass doesn't care about the opinions of the poor and the meek… The peasants. A Greengrass only cares about two things; family and the betterment of said family. "Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, Daphne. Children who grow up too quickly rarely turn out well-adjusted." Chief Zotair said something similar.

"My journey has only just begun, right?" Daphne nodded to herself.

"Exactly so, and you-" Director Reid was interrupted when London burst into the tent, wearing black leather pants and a white, see-through tank-top that left little to the imagination. Who wears a push-up, lace bra to a camp full of sick people? This tacky harlot, apparently!

"Sorry to interrupt, but the Chief is asking for the princess, again," the ebony witch reported, giving the Director a strange look. "You don't need me to show you the way, do you, princess?"

Daphne looked between the two, noticing that something had changed about Director Reid's gaze the moment London had arrived. His eyes had become… softer, and much to Daphne's dismay, more enthusiastic, as if he'd been waiting to see her. Oh, don't tell me they're-… Ew! With her?! Really?! Why?! A dangerous concoction of jealousy and fury filled her veins, despite knowing that the Vampire was far too old for her and only saw her as a child, and yet, it still took everything in her power to not make her displeasure known. I should just go before I Hex her in her stupid, piercing-riddled face.

Sticking her nose up, Daphne marched past London, who shot her a knowing wink as she passed by, much to the blonde's chagrin. Ugh… I hate her! As she reached the exit, she couldn't help but sneak a glance back, only to see London already cosying herself up to Director Reid, who had one of his hands resting on her hip. Is that a tattoo right above her arse?! How many does she have?! There's like seven on her arms alone! Daphne narrowed her eyes at the mercenary's remarkable buttocks, studying the curling, jagged thorns that vanished past her leathery waistband. Yuck… Tattoos are so foul, especially on women. Have some respect for your own skin, will you?

Huffing in indignation, Daphne left the tent behind in a hurry, she didn't even want to think about how a Banshee like London had sunk her claws into a good man like Director Reid. Even after I told him about her disgusting threats?! Why?! I don't understand! What does he even see in her?! She's a peasant-…

Daphne stopped abruptly, her cruel thoughts about the dark-skinned witch jarring her. I'm doing it, again, aren't I? I'm letting my pride go unchecked… I'm letting my father speak through me. She felt herself deflate, the fury dying down until only jealousy remained. Is this one of those moments where life teaches me humility? Maybe… Ugh… Why her, though? She's just so… gross!

Pouting, Daphne continued onwards, kicking rocks along the way until she finally spotted Chief Zotair lingering at the entrance of his yurt, no doubt awaiting her arrival. Seeing him, she mustered all of her strength in order to compose herself, not wanting him to see how petty and childish she could be whenever she felt threatened. A Lady doesn't wear her emotions on her sleeves, Daphne. She has to be mature and cunning, not easily shaken. She has to be strong-willed if she's to command respect.

"Good evening, Chief Zotair," Daphne greeted the frail Centaur, giving him a curtsy. "You summoned me?"

"Summoned? I suppose, I did, didn't I?" Chief Zotair chuckled from behind his iron mask. "My apologies, Gold-Hair. I wished to continue our conversation."

"You've nothing to apologize for, Sir," Daphne assured him, a pleasant smile fixed on her face. "I enjoy speaking with you. I feel wiser for it, in fact."

"Then, let us resume your education," Chief Zotair led the way, his limp more severe than before. He's getting weaker and weaker. Ron, we really don't have much time left. "There is an air of uneasiness about you, today, child. Like the hare cornered by the fox. What has happened?" …A super handsome Vampire, who I probably have a crush on, is currently snogging a witch I utterly despise. Oh, and one of my closest friends stabbed me in the back.

"I've been trying to adhere to your fine example, and I'm… failing," Daphne confessed, lowering her gaze. "I believe I've inherited my father's monstrous pride, and that I'm not strong enough to overcome it."

"Tell me more," the Centaur instructed.

Daphne drew in a sharp breath, oddly feeling ashamed of what Pansy had done to her. "…One of my friends… She um… She broke my trust recently, and although she apologized and confessed her… crime, I still can't bring myself to forgive her. I keep telling myself that she crossed the line, that she can't be trusted, but I know deep down that she really is sorry for what she did. She's been through a lot over the last few months, we all have, and she was just desperate to prove herself worthy." No different from me, really.

"And your pride is stopping you from accepting her back?" Chief Zotair questioned, and Daphne nodded meekly.

"I hate that she got one over me… I hate that she was showered with praise and gifts instead of me… And I really hate that she hurt one of our friends so deeply that he's crawled back into his shell…" Every time I see him, I just want to hug him as tightly as I can. He was so bloody proud of her that his eyes lit up whenever they landed on her, no matter how much stress he was under. I think, he really needed that, but it was all a lie. "…Seeing her miserable makes me both upset and happy… Isn't that strange?"

"The heart is a strange thing, child, and more often than not, it contradicts itself," Chief Zotair stopped and turned to face her, leaning his head down. "You can be angry with your friend, and at the same time, feel sympathy for her. This does not make you weak, child, it makes you strong. It is easy to despise those who wrong us, but to try and understand them? To feel pity for them? That is a gargantuan task, indeed." Daphne nodded to herself, trying to soak up every word. "Tell me true, do you love your friend?"

"…I do…" Daphne whispered, speaking from her heart.

"Then, the only thing you need to ask yourself is… Do I love my friend more than I hate her trespass against me?" I love her more. What she did was selfish and inconsiderate, yes, but she's so much more than this one mistake.

"Thank you, Chief Zotair," Daphne stood up straighter, feeling as though a boulder had been lifted off of her shoulders. "It won't be easy, but I will forgive her. I don't want to lose her just to satisfy my pride. Our bond is more important to me, and it will give me the strength I need." He's so easy to talk to. I wish father were more like him.

"Never forget that we are all on our own journeys, Gold-Hair," Chief Zotair said, sounding pleased with her decision.

"And that children are often too rash in trying to prove themselves."

"Exactly so, Spring, exactly so!" the Centaur laughed, gesturing her to follow him. "Now, when last we spoke, I left to roam the forest… Do you wish to see what I discovered?"

"Certainly!" I'll do it tonight, then. I'll put this entire matter to bed, once and for all.

---

Saturday 5th June, 1994 (The Great Hall – Dinner)

"Why Transfiguration, though?" Theo continued, groaning loudly. "Couldn't we start the easier ones, first, and then work our way up to Transfiguration? It just seems more sensible to me, that's all. What do you think?"

"I agree," Daphne replied absentmindedly, shooting Pansy a subtle glance. Just do it, Daphne! Just say something to her! Anything! Swallow that pride of yours and give her some peace of mind before the exams start!

"Are you all right?" Theo asked, following her gaze down towards Pansy. "…Oh, I see…"

Their seating arrangement had changed ever since Pansy's confession. Now, Pansy sat beside Blaise, on the far corner of the group, whereas Theo had taken her spot beside Daphne. Ron had moved Draco to sit between Blaise and himself, just so he could be as far from Pansy as possible. Daphne did not like this new arrangement, not one bit, as she had grown accustomed to sitting beside a girl and in front of Ron.

"Just ask her to pass the bread rolls," Theo suddenly whispered in her ear, nudging her.

"What?" Daphne blinked, looking to the weedy boy.

"I have eyes, Daph, and you clearly want to move on from your little spat." Am I being that obvious? "Hell, I want to move on from it too. Just say something so we can get on with our lives." She looked towards Ron, Draco, and Blaise, noticing that all three of them were focused solely on their plates. "Please, just do it. I enjoyed sitting across from you girls. The view was much better. If I have to keep staring at Malfoy's ashy forehead, I'm going to start skipping meals."

Daphne managed to stifle her laugh, offering Theo a grateful smile for giving her the final push she needed. "Thank you."

"For what?" Theo feigned ignorance, before shooting her a wink. Remember how important she is to you, and remember Chief Zotair. Be more like him, and less like father.

"Pansy, can you pass me those cheesy bread rolls, please?" Daphne asked, being as nonchalant as possible. "The ones right next to you?"

The Raven-Haired witch looked like a deer caught in headlights, whereas the other three boys finally looked up from their plates. Blaise appeared pleasantly surprised, Draco seemed as apathetic as he always did, and Ron… He just stared at her, and when she met his gaze, he returned to eating his dinner in silence. He'll move on too, eventually. She cut him deeper than she cut me, and we should respect his feelings as much as hers. He'll find his way back, he always does.

"…Here," Pansy offered her the basket, and Daphne accepted it with an easy smile.

"Thank you."

"No problem," Pansy muttered, returning the smile. She's going to cry in my arms, tonight, isn't she? That's okay. We'll talk everything out so we can get closure.

"Theo was just telling me that he's dreading the Transfiguration exam on Monday morning," Daphne started, deciding that she was also tired of the awkward silence. "What about you lot? You feel like you're ready?"

"As ready as one can be," Blaise answered first, which was unusual for him. "It's the Charms exam I'm not keen for."

"Charms is easy," Theo scoffed, smirking smugly. "Even Malfoy can pass Charms."

"Your vote of confidence means so much to me, Nott," Draco drawled, sneering. "What would I do without it?"

"Probably fail Charms," Theo laughed, earning himself a chuckle from Daphne and Blaise. "So, which exam are you dreading, then, Malfoy? Is it Defence Against the Dark Arts? It is, isn't it?"

Draco ignored the weedy boy, until suddenly, he jumped in his seat as if someone had kicked him. What was that? The platinum-blonde shot Ron a menacing glare, before turning his attention back to Theo. Did Ron just elbow him? Daphne smiled to herself, glad that their 'fearless leader' wasn't completely checked out.

"…Herbology…" Draco grumbled, shifting in his seat. "I didn't enjoy it this year."

"Me neither," Pansy piped in, her voice still anxious. "Professor Sprout is terribly boring, and I always zone out whenever she starts gushing about her plants." So, basically, every class, then.

"Well, we can have a study date, if you like," Theo grinned, making her laugh. "But only if it ends with-"

"She has a boyfriend, pervert," Daphne cut in, playfully shoving Theo.

"He can join us," Theo shrugged. "He looks like he has soft lips." And we're in the gutter… Nice to see that some things will never change.

"You can't kiss my boyfriend before me, Theo," Pansy giggled, looking more and more like her usual self by the second. "Promise me."

"You'd better hurry up, then. I'm a charmer, you know?"

"If only you could remember that whenever Tracey's around," Blaise said in his usual aloof manner, making both girls snort and laugh. Got him! He wasn't ready!

"…I hope you fail Charms, and a hungry dog eats your face…" Theo mumbled, having lost all of his mirth. "What? You think that's funny, do you, Malfoy?"

"A little bit, yes," Draco smirked, flicking his eyebrow up as he did whenever he was feeling cocky.

"Ron, they're picking on me, again," Theo whined, looking to the redhead for support. "Threaten them with gratuitous violence for me, will you?"

Silence returned to loom over the group, all of them looking to Ron for his input. C'mon… Join in just a little. You know you want to. He drew in a deep breath and clenched his jaw, as if trying to convince himself to speak, but just as he opened his mouth, a familiar cackle rang through the Great Hall. Is that… Peeves?! It can't be! Everyone, including the staff, began searching for any signs of the mischievous Poltergeist, as he was forbidden from interrupting the students' meals. I have a really bad feeling about-…

Daphne's thoughts were interrupted when Peeves flew out from underneath Ron, taking a hold of the redhead's plate and smashing it in his face along the way. Daphne, and a bunch of other Slytherins, shrieked from the shock, while Ron was sent tumbling out of his seat and onto his back. RON! Gods, what was that?!

"Stormbringer! Stormbringer! He's the Bloody-Baron's favourite ginger!" the outlandishly dressed Poltergeist sang and danced, his chaotic voice bouncing from wall-to-wall.

Shouting broke out all around them, but Peeves ignored everyone and focused solely on the dirtied, stunned Weasley at his mercy. Snapping his fingers, the 'Embodiment of Disorder' Conjured a pair of buckets above Ron, which then tilted over and covered the boy underneath in red and yellow paint. Draco and Blaise shot out of their seats to avoid the mess, but it was already too late for that. What the fuck?!

"Now, he's covered in scarlet and gold! But he'll never be lucky enough to count himself as one of the brave and bold!" Peeves cackled maniacally, posing as a starfish and doing cartwheels through the air.

"Enough!" Dumbledore roared, and such was the outrage in his voice that even Peeves was stilled in his spot. "Begone, jester!"

"The old fellow's mad, now!" Peeves gasped and 'bit his nails', before his absurdly long, blue tongue poked out at Dumbledore and blew raspberries. "Time for Peeves to take a bow!"

Doing just that, the Poltergeist shot up into the Enchanted Ceiling, vanishing from sight before the Bloody-Baron could arrive to torment him. Seriously, what just happened?! Breaking out of her stupor, Daphne stood up and looked over the table, going wide-eyed when she saw Ron laying there with food and paint all over him. Merlin's Beard! What's gotten into Peeves?! Pranking a student during dinner?! He's lost it!

"Help him, you two!" Daphne called out to Blaise and Draco, both of whom were also staring at their dazed friend. "Ron?! Are you okay?!"

Laughter suddenly broke out from a distance, and when Daphne looked to where it was coming from, a murderous glint flashed in her eyes. You two?! You did this?! How dare you?! The twins were howling like mad dogs, clutching at their sides, and soon enough, most of the boys in Gryffindor were laughing alongside them. Even some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joined in, eventually, as well as Flint and his gang. Her anger getting the better of her, Daphne pulled out her wand, ready to fire a Pimple-Jinx across the Great Hall. Fuck it! I'm doing it! I don't care if I get in trouble!

"Put that away, girl," came Professor Snape's voice, and she turned to see him rushing towards Ron. "Don't be stupid, now. Put it away."

"They were behind-!" Daphne started, but the malice behind the Potion Master's eye stopped her short.

"Silence!" Dumbledore ordered, but the laughter continued, become downright deafening after Professor Snape helped Ron onto his feet.

"Ron, look at me," Professor Snape ordered, trying to hold the swaying wizard in place. "Look at me!"

"He hit his head on the floor, Godfather," Draco reported, moving back-and-forth as he couldn't make up his mind on whether to help or not.

"Come with me," Professor Snape went to drag Ron away from the spotlight, but suddenly, the redhead found his footing, causing the Potion Master to jerk to a stop. Oh, no… Oh, no, no, no, no… I know that look… Oh, Gods, no…

Ron's eyes had glazed over, the vein in his forehead threatening to burst, and his hands were clenched so tightly that they were causing his entire upper body to shake uncontrollably. The laughter died down swiftly as a result, even the twins had fallen silent, now. He's going to kill them, isn't he? Someone needs to do something! Try as she might, however, her own fear of him kept her rooted to her spot, she'd never seen him look so feral and bloodthirsty before. The candles floating above them all began to dim, and thunderous clouds appeared upon the Enchanted Ceiling to shelter the stars from the horror that was about to be unleashed within the Great Hall. That horror never came, though, as Madam Pomfrey suddenly appeared and took a hold of Ron's other arm, dragging him away with the help of Professor Snape.

Ron's gaze never left the twins, not even for a second, not until he was gone. …They're dead… They're so fucking dead… What the fuck were they thinking? Do they really know so little about their own brother? Oh, who am I kidding? They've spent their entire lives torturing him, so they think they can still get away with it. He's going to prove them wrong, and, honestly, I'm not looking forward to that. Not even they deserve whatever punishment he's going to come up with.

---

The Champion's POV

Saturday 5th June, 1994 (The Hospital Wing – Dinner)

He sat in complete silence, staring at Pomfrey as she droned on and on about… something. He hadn't listened to a single word that had come spilling out of her disgusting, wrinkled mouth. He had even contemplated silencing said mouth forever, just to shut her up, but, in the end, he had decided to spare her, if only to avoid the trouble he'd get into for murdering someone out in the open. No, his wrath was to remain reserved for a pair of ingrates, and he was going to keep feeding it until it grew into an inferno. He'd already made up his mind, in fact. He was going to teach them that, although they could pull their little pranks on Ronald Weasley, Fate's Champion was off-limits.

They would pay in blood and bone, that would be the price for their hubris.

"Ron, are you listening to me?" Pomfrey suddenly tapped his shoulder, her concerned face popping into view.

"…Yes," the Champion lied, putting on a pathetic smile. "We're fine, Madam Pomfrey. The twins are just being the twins. It's fine."

"…You just referred to yourself as a collective, Ron…"

"Did I now? My mistake," the Champion scratched the back of his neck, cringing internally as he went against his very nature. We, We, We, We, We, We, We! Ah, that's better! "That plate really did a number on me, I guess." On Us, We Guess!

Pomfrey eyed him with deeper concern, but just as she went to speak, Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall walked into the Hospital Wing, making a beeline for him. More noise. Ignore it.

"Ronald, my boy, are you all right?" Dumbledore asked, studying the mess that was all over him. "I've banished Peeves to the Old Clocktower. He's to remain there until the end of the school year." The Old Clocktower? Thank you for telling Us where to find him.

The Champion gave a soft nod, knowing that his silence would speak volumes.

"The Poltergeist wasn't the mastermind behind this," Snape hissed, glaring at McGonagall. "I want those two sent home! Tonight!"

"Severus, they have O. W. L.s coming up," McGonagall spoke through pursed lips, as if she'd sucked on a lemon. "Normally, I would stand with you, but the circumstances call for-"

"For what?! Leniency?!" Snape cut her off. "Albus, they must be punished! I demand it! They attacked my student and gave him a concussion a day before his exams start!" If they're sent home, then how will We make an example of them? Disrespect begets disrespect. No, they must remain within Our reach. That is essential.

"Ronald, I will leave this decision with you," Dumbledore kept his eyes on the Champion, no doubt testing him once again. "If I suspend them, they will be forced to miss their O. W. L.s, and that can have dire ramifications-"

"No, stop trying to convince him with guilt," Snape snapped, his face twisting in anger. "You did the exact same with me, once! Remember?! I won't let you repeat it with him!"

"They will be punished, you have my word, but to jeopardise their futures… That is going too far, Severus, even for you," McGonagall urged, was she really pleading on the behalf of a pair of bullies? The den-mother… The proud lioness protecting her cubs… How adorable.

"Ronald? What shall I do?" Dumbledore asked, his expression unreadable.

"…Just give them a bunch of detentions, Headmaster," the Champion sighed out, pretending to be unsure of himself. "They're still my brothers, and I don't want them to repeat fifth-year." OUR! WE!

"That is most mature of you, Ronald," Dumbledore smiled proudly, whereas Snape looked ready to explode.

"I will have them clean every inch of Hogwarts with a toothbrush, Ronald, you have my word," McGonagall promised sincerely, the relief behind her eyes irked the Champion immensely. What of their blood? Will you have them clean that too?

"Can I go and get cleaned up, please?" the Champion looked to Pomfrey, putting on his most tired expression. We!

"Try to take a short shower, please," Pomfrey suggested. "You took a rather nasty bump on the head, and I don't want you falling down and hurting yourself further."

"…Understood," the Champion gave a weak nod, grunting in pain as he stood up just to make McGonagall feel more guilty. "Goodnight, then."

"I'll escort you down," Snape grumbled, offering the Champion his arm. Isn't he the sweetest, greasiest Professor around? Who are We to refuse such a kind offer?

He took the Potion Master's arm, letting the taller man guide him out of the Hospital Wing and towards the Moving Staircase, where he spotted his ghostly counterpart waiting for him.

"Those claws of yours… Want to try them on Peeves?" Ravenclaw Ron asked, not a hint of mirth on his face. "If they can slice up daddy dearest, I wonder what they'll do to a pesky Poltergeist." We'll find out soon enough. Our brothers must be taught a lesson they'll never forget. Bullies only understand one language, and unfortunately for them, We have learnt it well. Pain and fear… Pain. And. Fear.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm back at Uni, and life is getting hella busy! I'll try to keep updating monthly, but please be patient going forward! Thank you for your continued support! It means a lot to me!