Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Hi everyone, and thank you so much for the great reviews. I'm really glad you all enjoyed that chapter. I felt that was a very important conversation for Harry and Sirius to have, and honestly, I haven't ever seen any other authors cover it. Have any of you folks seen that? If so, please point me to any stories you've seen it in. I'd love to see other people's take on it.

Or better yet, I have a challenge for each of you. Would you be able to write it yourself? I'd love to read a story with your own point of view on that scene. Please let me know if you'd like to participate!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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Unbeknownst to Harry and Sirius, Monday morning at Hogwarts went very differently to what they had expected. When Ron Weasley awoke, he felt like he hadn't had a restful sleep at all; he'd been plagued all night by visions of what could be happening to Dumbledore. Guilt seized him, making him want to collapse into a hole and never crawl out. The fact that he'd blurted out that Harry had gone into hiding had caused Dumbledore to sacrifice his own well-being for him, to stop him from getting into trouble. His defense of Harry had flown out of his mouth without thinking; he was tired of his best friend being accused of all and sundry without proof. And the suspicion of many that he had murdered Cedric Diggory was the last straw.

In all honesty, Ron had barely known Cedric, and hadn't really wanted to. The Diggorys lived in Ottery St. Catchpole just like the Weasleys, but Cedric was several years older than Ron and two years ahead of him. He'd always seemed so confident and sure of himself, and Ron always felt anything but. He could admit now that his resentful feelings towards the older boy had been ridiculous in the big scheme of things, and now, the school had gone into mourning for him. The boy had been murdered in cold blood, and Ron would never forget the sight of his lifeless body just lying there, the sobs of those who loved him echoing around the school grounds. For as long as he lived, he'd never be able to get those images and sounds out of his head.

And now, Harry and Dumbledore were both gone. Ron knew Harry was safe with Sirius, but he wondered when he'd get to see him again. Worry gnawed inside his gut for the boy he had wronged so badly. For the first time since Ron had known him, Harry had looked pale and vulnerable, as if he could be knocked over with a feather. All the fight had gone out of him; he seemed frail and broken. Ron hoped with everything he had that Sirius would be able to bring life back into the boy he had grown to love like one of his own brothers.

And Dumbledore ... what in Merlin's name was happening to him? He had gone willingly with the Aurors, and last Ron had heard, he was still at the Ministry being questioned. Ron had heard things from his father about the holding cells prisoners were placed in, and the interrogation methods that were used on them. Ron felt a shudder go down his spine as he slowly got dressed, trying hard not to look over at Harry's empty bed. Please don't let my actions be hurting the Headmaster, he prayed desperately. And please, no more questions about where Harry is. Since the news broke about him going into hiding, Ron had been badgered endlessly, as had Hermione and Ginny. It took everything he had not to snarl at everyone who cornered him. "I don't know." Those words had become like a broken record, an endless loop he repeated to everyone who asked where Harry had been taken.

He was infinitely grateful that Hermione hadn't chewed him out for blurting out that Harry was gone. Instead, she and Ginny had taken care of Ron as the news of Dumbledore's arrest spread around the school like wildfire. There was a constant buzz in the common room, and everyone in the Great Hall at dinner was discussing it.

At one point, Ron had made the mistake of looking over at the other House tables. A fair number of Slytherins were looking smug and superior; Ron wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off Draco Malfoy's face. Then there were the Hufflepuffs; many of them were crying, while others were looking murderously over at the Gryffindors like if they defended Harry, they would go straight to Hell. Ron had felt the anger boil over inside him again; some were looking at Ron like they felt sorry for him, as though they were thinking, "Too bad you have a friend who's a murderer." Others simply looked relieved that since Harry was out of the school, they and their friends were in no more danger. Ron wanted to scoff at all of them. They acted like Harry was the only one You-Know-Who and his band of murdering monsters wanted to get rid of.

Then, he looked over at the Ravenclaw table. His eyes fell on Cho Chang, whose face was red and blotchy and whose shoulders were shaking convulsively while tears streamed down her face. Another girl who Ron didn't know the name of had her arm around her, trying to comfort her. Ron had never known what being in love was really like, though he sometimes wondered what it would feel like to kiss Hermione. But Cho's debilitating grief scared him beyond belief; what if he found someone and then lost them in the way Cho had lost Cedric? With a war coming, it was highly possible. Ron didn't want to experience that kind of loss. He was terrified enough for Harry, Hermione, and his family. He knew they would fight, and the fear he felt shook him to the core.

And today, as he met Hermione and Ginny downstairs in the common room and they began to make their way to breakfast, Ron didn't know how it would be possible to concentrate in classes today. He missed Harry terribly; the fact that he wasn't beside him, laughing and joking, was like a huge weight was pressing down on his heart. The corridors were subdued and silent as the students made their way to the Great Hall and sat down at their tables.

The heaping plates of food the house-elves had prepared had barely been touched; it seemed as though the Slytherins were the only ones eating anything. Of course they are, Ron thought, livid. They're so happy that their Lord has returned. They don't care a wit about Harry or Cedric. The urge to punch Malfoy, who still looked like Christmas had come early, was almost unmanageable.

Hermione, in a strange kind of role reversal, was urging Ron to eat. He was painfully reminded of the beginning of the year, when Hermione had learned about how house-elves prepared all Hogwarts meals and Ron had tried to tempt her with her favorite foods in order to get her to eat. Hermione had refused all cajoling, and now, Ron was doing the same thing. "Harry would want you to keep your strength up," Hermione coaxed, and Ron glared at her.

"Leave him alone, Hermione," said Ginny softly. She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, letting him know she was there for him.

At that moment, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick made their way to the front of the hall, and the room went silent. There was an announcement about to be made, and you could have heard a pin drop in the hall. Dread coiled like a spider in Ron's stomach; what now?

"Good morning, everyone," said Professor McGonagall in her usual brisk tone, but there was a tiredness behind it that Ron had never heard before. "Professor Flitwick and I have several things we must tell you."

"Excuse me, but is Professor Dumbledore okay?" called out an older Gryffindor from down the table.

"Mr. Jenkins," said Professor Flitwick, "that is one of the things we wish to tell you. Professor Dumbledore is still being held at the Ministry for questioning. Right now, we don't know any more than that."

It sounded to Ron like a thousand bees were buzzing with the news as he felt his stomach sink. Beside him, Hermione took his hand and squeezed it in hers.

"What about Potter?" said a Hufflepuff angrily. "Has he been found yet? What he did to Cedric ..."

"That is quite enough," said Professor McGonagall, sounding harsher than Ron had ever heard. "I am very disturbed by the accusations and conspiracy theories I have been hearing about Mr. Potter," she continued, looking around the hall with a pinched expression.

"As am I," said Professor Flitwick. "And I feel that it is mostly our fault. There have been events that have happened that you have not learned about yet. Professor Dumbledore should have informed you yesterday morning, and we fear that his and our silence has only allowed the misinformation and speculation to grow. Harry Potter is not responsible for the death of Cedric Diggory, and has been taken out of Hogwarts for safety reasons. Cedric was killed by You-Know-Who."

"That's rubbish!" screamed an older Hufflepuff, her face streaked with tears. "You-Know-Who's been dead for thirteen years! You really expect us to believe HE was the one who took Cedric's life?"

"we know it does not seem possible," said Professor Flitwick while the boy beside the weeping girl put his arm around her. "But there are very dark rituals that can be performed that make it possible for someone who took the steps You-Know-Who did to increase his power to return to a body."

There was an uproar in the hall at this. Several students burst into tears, while others looked numb with shock. The ones who believed firmly that Harry murdered Cedric looked as though they wanted to say, "Pull the other one, Professor." Ron felt another wave of fury crash over him. Hermione trembled on one side of him, while on the other side Ginny was pale and shaken. Ron wondered if she was remembering her awful ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets with Tom Riddle.

"We also need to inform you," said McGonagall, "that Professor Moody was not the one teaching you this year."

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny listened as the entire story was relayed to the students about Barty Crouch, Jr. using Polyjuice Potion the whole year. She and Flitwick took turns explaining all the details, about how Barty Crouch, Sr. had broken him out of Azkaban, about how he'd used the Imperius Curse on his son, about how his son had broken himself out of it at the Quidditch World Cup ... He had been the one to put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire, and was the one responsible for turning the Triwizard Cup into the Portkey that had taken Harry and Cedric away from the grounds.

Since the trio had heard the story before, they watched the reaction of the other students. And it was complete pandemonium. Some of the comments that left the students' mouths were vicious; they thought it was an elaborate story to get Harry out of trouble. Others began yelling at the staff; Susan Bones screamed from the Hufflepuff table, "I thought Dumbledore and Moody were supposed to be really close! How could he not figure it out the whole year? Has he gone senile?"

Both teachers raised their hands for quiet, but Ron noticed they hadn't said anything to stem the flow of insults towards Dumbledore. McGonagall looked like she was on the verge several times, but stopped herself. Were the teachers beginning to change their mind about the goodness of Dumbledore? McGonagall was one of his staunchest supporters! Ron was surprised by the amount of vitriol the students were throwing around. He started to feel a little unsure of everything; his world was tilting sideways, his emotions all over the place.

"Neville, Neville, are you okay?" Hermione suddenly asked, and Ron turned his head to look. Neville was shaking all over, his entire face turning green. He looked like the earth was shattering under his feet. "We need help over here!" Hermione yelled, trying to get the attention of a staff member. "I think Neville's going to be sick!"

Thankfully, her shout was loud enough that it brought Professor Sprout over to the Gryffindor table. "Mr. Longbottom?" she asked, quickly conjuring a bucket just in time. Neville puked into it, his entire body heaving. After he was finished, he trembled with sobs as he continuously repeated, "Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin."

Some of the students' attention had been drawn to the sound of Neville being sick, and some nasty laughter erupted from the Slytherin table. Ron made to jump out of his seat, but Hermione and Ginny placed their hands firmly on his shoulders, holding him back. "No, Ron," Hermione said. "They're not worth it."

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron shouted. "They're being evil gits!"

"Look, Ron," Ginny said, pointing to the staff. Flitwick was making his way over, a furious expression on his face. As Professor Sprout gently guided Neville out of the Great Hall, Flitwick started reprimanding the Slytherins sharply.

"All of you will spend the morning in detention," he said, his voice filled with uncharacteristic anger. "I am appalled at your reaction to a classmate's distress." He looked at Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle in particular. "I do not like what I am seeing from you. Think about how you'd feel if you were in Mr. Longbottom's position."

Ron was still glowering at the Slytherins while Hermione said, "Detention this morning? Are we not having classes after all?"

McGonagall promptly answered her question. She raised her hand for silence again, but many of the students did not heed her. Shouting to make her voice heard, she said, "There will be no classes today. They shall resume tomorrow. Prefects, please take your housemates to their common rooms."

Ron didn't know how he made it back to Gryffindor Tower; the hubbub and chaos in the corridor was all-encompassing. But here he was, sitting with Hermione and Ginny in the common room. It was filled to capacity, everyone knotted together in tight little clumps as they analyzed and discussed this morning's news. Ron looked around for Neville, but didn't see him anywhere. Why had he reacted like that to the news? Was it just the stress of everything that had happened, or was there more to it?

No one left the common room all morning, preferring to huddle on the couches and chairs rather than disappear into their dormitories. No one wanted to spend a second without their friends. Ron sat on the sofa, his arm around each of the girls as he lost himself in the sea of thoughts that was drowning him.

How was Harry doing? Where was he, and was Sirius taking good care of him? How long would it be until he heard from him? What was Professor Dumbledore going through? When would the wizarding world get their heads out of their arses and stop believing Harry was responsible for everything bad that happened? Why couldn't the world be simple again, like when he was little?

"I want to go home."

The admission stopped him short; he turned to stare at Ginny, who was looking at him with sad, vulnerable eyes. She had been holding so strong, but now, amidst all the chaos surrounding her, it was no wonder she was having a rough time of it. There was no doubt the talk of You-Know-Who returning to a body had been a major trigger.

"I know," Ron said softly, with no shame. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed in his room at the Burrow, the home he often complained about but knew, at the end of it all, that he dearly loved. "I want to go home too, Gin."