Disclaimer: A million times nope.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for the fantastic reviews. I'm really, really glad you enjoyed that chapter. I feel like it was one of the most intense chapters I've ever written. I will warn you now, the next part of this might be even more so. This will involve us seeing exactly what was done to Dumbledore's mind, and it's pretty egregious. It may be one of the darkest things I've ever written, and considering that I always write angst, that's saying a lot.
To my one reviewer: oh my goodness, I am so sorry. I feel terrible about everything you've gone through. It makes sense that you agree with me so much on memory charms, and I feel the same way you do about love potions as well. I hate how they were used for a laugh, except in the case of Merope and Tom Riddle, Sr. In the real world, drugs like that can literally ruin people's lives. It's horrific that potions like that were used so lightly in these books. I wish you all the hope and healing in the world.
As for Percy, I hope you end up liking the direction I take his story in. There certainly will be huge bumps along the way for him and his family. It certainly won't be smooth sailing, even after he just saw that memory.
Okay, here's the next chapter.
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Ron felt like his entire world was spinning around him as he, his family, and Hermione sat in the Ministry cafeteria. All the emotions he felt were churning inside of him - grief, anger, helplessness - but above all, guilt. Guilt that for so long, he had envied his best friend's fame, the fact that so many were in awe of him. Guilt for succumbing to the jealousy inside him, guilt that he had ever thought that Harry, the boy he knew, would put his own name in the Goblet of Fire.
He knew he should have stopped focusing on this by now - Harry had forgiven him, and their friendship was rock solid again. But after seeing what the other boy had been through in the graveyard, after he had seen You-Know-Who slither out of the cauldron, after he had seen Harry look with complete and utter horror upon Cedric's lifeless body, after he had heard Harry's screams when he was put under the Cruciatus Curse ... the excruciating guilt suffocated him all over again. And he knew that if he were Harry, he would have broken. He would have begged You-Know-Who to stop. He never would have had the strength to duel the monster standing before him, that twisted, evil grin contorting his snakelike face.
He hadn't really liked Cedric that much - he'd thought him rather eggheaded and stupid, and this was yet another thing he felt guilty for. He would never forget the look of helplessness and fear on Cedric's face as he'd seen Harry fall to his knees, crying out in pain as his hands covered his scar. The older champion's cry of Harry's name would forever haunt Ron's mind, and he was sure he'd be hearing it in his nightmares for years to come. And the sight of Cedric being hit with the Avada Kedavra curse, collapsing to the ground as all life left his gray eyes, was singed into his brain, Harry's look of horror and disbelief a terrible thing to behold.
And when Priori Incantatem had occurred and he'd seen Harry's parents encourage him to escape, when he'd heard Cedric's ghostly voice telling Harry to take his body back to the Diggorys ... it had been too much. Tears had streamed down his face, and he held Hermione close as she sobbed into his shoulder. Ginny wept on his other side, and he couldn't imagine what this must have been like for her - watching the monster that had almost killed her two years ago return to power in such a gruesome fashion. There had been a few times when her face had turned green, and Ron was afraid that she would throw up. He wouldn't have blamed her if she had, but somehow, she held it together.
Ron couldn't deny the terror he had felt all throughout the memory. He thought that spiders were the thing he was most afraid of, but upon seeing the deformed thing that had entered the cauldron emerge as a fully-grown You-Know-Who, he'd felt fear grip him in its stranglehold, unwilling to let him go. He'd felt himself shaking as he saw the enormous snake, who You-Know-Who referred to as Nagini, doing all of his bidding. He hadn't seen the basilisk two years ago - he'd been stuck behind the rocks, and Harry had had to go it alone. But if it was anything like this snake, he couldn't even imagine it. Horrifying didn't even begin to cover it.
And Peter Pettigrew. Ron couldn't put into words the level of disgust he felt towards that traitor. He remembered the many nights he'd felt comforted as the rat slept in his bed. No matter how often he complained about him, he couldn't deny that he had loved him - Scabbers had been his faithful pet. When he'd watched Peter murder Cedric in cold blood without even a second of hesitation, not even allowing the older boy the chance to fight, he'd felt sick to his stomach. There had been no remorse on Peter's face; his expression had been blank, as if he'd just recited the weather forecast. It was absolutely revolting. If Ron ever got his hands on that rat again, he didn't trust himself not to act in a way that contradicted who he normally was.
And he prayed, prayed that all of this would mean that Sirius would soon be free. When he, Hermione, and his family had all seen Harry, it was obvious that the horrific events of the Third Task were weighing on him, but he also looked content in a way that Ron had not seen before. He saw the way that Sirius and Harry acted around each other, and it couldn't be more apparent that Harry was finally getting the love and care that he so desperately needed. And Sirius also looked happier than Ron had known him to ever be - granted, he'd only seen him a handful of times, but he would have been a complete fool if he didn't notice that Harry was helping him to heal from everything he had suffered as well. Harry's godfather deserved nothing more than to have his freedom, and the piece of scum known as Peter Pettigrew deserved to rot in the deepest pit of hell for the rest of eternity.
When the memory of You-Know-Who's return was finally over, Ron wiped away his tears and stared at everyone else in the courtroom. The sound of sobs and sniffles were the only thing that could be heard, only to be interrupted by that stupid little cough of Dolores Umbridge's. That woman ... he'd never seen her before, and he was glad for it. Evil. That woman was pure evil.
And the way that he had seen Percy looking at her - it made his blood boil with an all-encompassing rage. He had been writing down everything she said, gazing at her as though she could grant him the answers to all of life's problems. Ron wanted nothing more than to shake some sense into his stupid, idiotic, suck-up brother that wasn't acting like family in the slightest.
As Ron, his family, and Hermione sat in the cafeteria, barely anything was said between them. The silence was full of shock, grief, and horror, and no one really knew of anything they could possibly say that could give voice to this experience. All Ron could see in his mind was Cedric's lifeless face. All he could hear in the silence was Harry's screams. All he could feel was rage, fear, and sadness.
When they all returned to the courtroom, Ron dreaded what he would hear next. He couldn't imagine anything worse than what he'd just witnessed, but Dixon had said he was going to show everyone what had been done to Dumbledore's mind, and that sounded incredibly ominous. Ron wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. But when he thought of Harry, whose bravery knew no bounds, he cursed himself for his cowardice. If Harry could still function after what he had lived through, Ron had no excuse - no excuse at all.
He looked at Fudge, who was still sitting in the chained chair. He was awake again now, and staring into space. His eyes looked dull and hollow, and Ron felt distinctly satisfied. It served him bloody right, thinking he could accuse Harry of such a thing as murder without getting his arse handed to him.
Ron looked around and saw that Percy was now back in the room, but he didn't look at all well either. Ron's hostility towards his brother was at fever pitch as he stared at him, and Percy didn't even have the common decency to look back. His face was pale, and his eyes were haunted. His horn-rimmed glasses were crooked on his nose, and that was saying a lot for Percy's state of mind. Ron could count the number of times he'd ever seen Percy look anything less than perfect, and it sent a thrill of malicious pleasure through him. It was an effort for him to keep bitter laughter from escaping his lips.
There were less people in the courtroom than there had been at the beginning of the trial, and Ron realized that Cho, her mother, and several others who had known and loved Cedric hadn't returned, including some of those who thought Harry had murdered him. Ron wasn't angry with Cho, who had never accused Harry of murdering her boyfriend, but he was livid with some of the others. So they didn't like seeing the truth? Tough. They had no right to run from it.
"We will now resume the trial of Cornelius Oswald Fudge," came Amelia Bones's voice, and the courtroom went dead silent.
"Hem, hem," coughed Umbridge, the sound sending a dart of hatred straight through Ron's veins.
"Yes, Dolores? What do you wish to say?" Amelia Bones asked. Though she was keeping her decorum, Ron could detect the thread of impatience running through her tone.
"I would like to commend Healer Dixon on a job well done," Umbridge said in a sweet, syrupy, little-girl voice. "He has put on a show for us. A very traumatic show, I might add. I feel a great level of sympathy for Cedric Diggory's loved ones, having to witness such a farce. How long did it take you, Healer Dixon, to come up with that false memory? I understand how much work that must have been." She let out a sinister, melodic little laugh. "A round of applause is in order," she said sarcastically, her voice growing shrill. "How dare you!" she suddenly screeched. "How dare you inflict this trauma on this entire courtroom! Several of Cedric's loved ones have not returned, because you thought it perfectly okay to do this to them! And due to your little performance, the Minister of Magic had to be revived!"
"How dare YOU, Dolores Umbridge!" Eileen Diggory had risen from her seat, a look of such deep loathing on her face that Ron gasped at the sight. He did not know Eileen Diggory well, but she seemed like such a gentle woman. "You are a pathetic, hateful, evil creature who bathes in ignorance! You do not know what you are talking about!"
"Oh, I don't?" Umbridge smiled at Eileen, the expression looking so sinister on her toadlike face. Her volume dropped to a whisper, as if to sound sympathetic. "I am so sorry that you are finding it hard to come to terms with the truth, Eileen, Amos," she said as Mr. Diggory also stood, looking just as livid as his wife. "Harry Potter is not the innocent victim that this false memory made him out to be. A gruesome, deformed monster did not disappear into a cauldron and come back out fully formed - there is no such magical ritual. Death is the great equalizer - we all know that. Once you die, you do not return from the dead."
"SHUT UP!" roared Mr. Diggory, beside himself with fury. "Harry Potter did NOT murder our son! You saw his face after he was killed! He risked his very life to bring our boy's body back to us, not wanting to leave him in that awful place!"
"There will be order in this courtroom!" Amelia Bones shouted, looking very angry herself. "Dolores, you will not make such accusations until we have all the relevant information. Eileen, Amos, please sit down, or I will have to ask you to leave."
Reluctantly, the Diggorys sat, their fists clenching and unclenching as they battled the rage they were feeling. Umbridge, with a sickly little smile, said, "Very well, Madam Bones," and sat down in her seat again, too.
"May I ... may I say something?"
The voice was so weak and croaky that Ron could barely believe it was the Minister of Magic speaking. He sat in the chained chair, looking exhausted and washed out, like he had aged twenty years in the thirty minutes that everyone had been out of the courtroom. Normally, such a look would elicit sympathy in Ron, but the boy felt no such thing for this corrupt, awful man who was forcing Harry to stay in hiding.
"What do you wish to say, Minister?" asked Madam Bones, though it was apparent she did not want to refer to him as such.
"I ... I never wanted this." Fudge's voice was so quiet that everyone in the courtroom had to strain to hear him.
"Speak up, Minister." There was no hiding Madam Bones's impatience now. "We can hardly hear you."
"I never wanted any of this." Fudge spoke a little louder. "I didn't want it to be true. I thought it was impossible that You-Know-Who could ever return. Harry Potter was supposed to have vanquished him. I did not sign up to be Minister of Magic during a war." He sighed, his eyes darting around the courtroom like a scared rodent. "When Healers Pollander and Shaddock told me it was true, I didn't ... didn't want it to be. I was terrified. They offered me a way out. They told me they could make it not be true."
"You cannot rewrite history." Madam Bones's voice was shaking. "You can't just force something not to be true because you don't like it. Exactly what are you saying, Minister?"
"They offered to ... work on Dumbledore," Fudge said, his voice a little stronger. "I said yes. But now ... now, after having seen what happened ... I ... I can't ... I can't."
And the entire courtroom watched in silence as the Minister of Magic completely lost control of his emotions. Ron stared around at everyone, his heart racing with both revulsion and relief. Fudge had confessed everything ... but Merlin, this entire thing was so disgusting.
Hermione's hand was shaky on Ron's shoulder, and her voice was filled with loathing. "After he saw what happened, he thinks he's safer in Azkaban," she murmured in his ear. "Better that than having to deal with holding the wizarding community together in a time of war. I doubt he realized just how horrible You-Know-Who's return really was."
"No!" Dolores Umbridge shrieked in fury. "Healer Dixon must have gotten to him, too! Healer Dixon made the Minister believe Potter's story!"
"QUIET!" Amelia Bones barked. "Dolores Umbridge, you will leave this courtroom immediately. I had asked you not to make accusations without proper evidence, and you did not listen. Now leave!"
Ron felt his respect for Madam Bones rise incredibly high as an absolutely enraged Umbridge flounced out of the courtroom, glowering with spite at everyone she passed.
"Excuse me, Madam Bones." Healer Dixon stood up then, and Ron felt an aura of power radiating off him that eerily reminded him of Dumbledore. "Now that our oh-so-brave Minister has confessed everything," he said, the sarcasm flowing off him in waves, "I'd like to ask you a favor." Ron was very impressed by the fact that Dixon hadn't seemed at all perturbed by Umbridge's insane accusation.
Amelia Bones simply nodded, urging him to go on.
"I would like our now ex-Minister Fudge to witness exactly what he permitted Albus Dumbledore to be subjected to before he is, no doubt, convicted," Healer Dixon said, looking at Fudge with enraged eyes. "You allowed the two Healers to "work on" Dumbledore? I have never heard such an insipid description for the heinous and violent attack that I have spent the last month trying to reverse. Because of the so-called "work" they did, Dumbledore cannot remember anything of the past year. Every last interaction, every last conversation, even every last LOOK ... they are all gone, thanks to the simple fact that you refused to take responsibility over your country. If you did not want to be Minister anymore, then you should have just resigned."
"You may do as you wish, Healer Dixon," Madam Bones told him promptly.
"Please, no," Fudge moaned pitifully. "I don't want to see anymore."
Healer Dixon said nothing, but he didn't need to; the glare of complete contempt he gave Fudge spoke volumes.
"Again, I warn you that this memory is extremely disturbing, but this is completely of a different variety," he said. "This starts out as a true memory, but then it changes to something utterly false. Keep in mind the things I told you about how to detect when a memory has been falsified."
Before Ron focused on the memory, his eyes happened to land on Percy at that moment. The young man was white-faced and shaking, and he looked as though his world had just ended. Look at me, Ron thought viciously, but Percy didn't meet his eyes. He stared blankly into space, his face not showing anything he was feeling. Ron wanted to storm over, shake the man's shoulders, and scream, "How do you like your boss now, you pathetic piece of sludge?"
But Ron turned his eyes away and back towards the memory when he heard the voices of two men. He then saw an image of Albus Dumbledore, bound to a chair with magical rope while a man stood on either side of him.
"Looks like we have our work cut out for us with this one," one of them said in a malicious tone that sent chills down Ron's spine.
"Yeah, I reckon so. He sure as hell hasn't been cooperating with us so far. Bloody stubborn, aren't you, old fool?" the other one snarled, leering down at the Headmaster's helpless form.
"It's not going to work." Dumbledore's voice was quiet and assured. "You cannot get me to believe any differently. Harry Potter is telling the truth - Lord Voldemort has returned."
The first Healer's lips pulled back in a vicious expression that Ron thought would look better on a wild animal. He pointed his wand right between the man's eyes. "Crucio!" he roared.
Dumbledore clamped his mouth shut, refusing to give in to the screams Ron could see that he wanted to let loose. His entire body tensed, and he closed his eyes as once again, the guilt of that day when the Aurors had come for Harry bombarded him. Because of his hasty actions, Dumbledore had gone with the Aurors willingly, and landed himself with these two Healers who were acting the complete opposite of their title.
"Stop it." The second Healer laid a placating hand on the first one's shoulder. "After all, we don't want to break his mind. We're trying to make use of it here."
"Oh, fine." The first Healer sounded like he was disappointed that he had to stop playing with one of his toys, and Ron thought he was going to vomit. "No one's going to help you, old man," he said as Dumbledore gasped for breath. "This room has silencing charms placed all around it, and the Minister knows we are in here with you - after all, he has permitted it."
Dumbledore said nothing, just stared at the Healers like they were in trouble and he was about to give them detention. The Headmaster look was known to intimidate many people, but it did not work on these two.
The second Healer grinned at Dumbledore evilly. "You will stop fighting us," he said harshly. "You know this is what really happened, and you will remember it the way we asked you to."
"No," said Dumbledore, his voice quiet but still resolute. "I will not."
The second Healer sneered. "Are you sure about that? Legilimens!" he cried, with the first Healer shouting a strange, sinister-sounding spell Ron had never heard before as they pointed their wands at the old man.
The next thing Ron saw was an image of the Headmaster's office. Instantly, though, he saw that something was wrong. It was extremely subtle, and he probably wouldn't have picked up on it if Healer Dixon hadn't explained how you could pinpoint whether a memory was false. Something about the feeling of the memory was ... off. It was very, very slightly blurred, and there was almost an eerie quality to it.
"I swear, Professor, one minute Cedric was fine and the next minute, he wasn't! I had nothing to do with it!" Harry's panicky voice rang through the courtroom. A shudder raced down Ron's spine as he took a look at the image of his best friend. Harry didn't look right, either - the facial expression was entirely wrong.
"Harry, I need to look inside your mind so I can ascertain what happened, since you refuse to tell me the truth," Dumbledore said quietly. "I know you have been trying to tamper with my memories."
"I am telling the truth!" Harry shouted. "And I haven't touched your bloody memories! It's not my fault Cedric just decided to drop dead!"
Ron gasped. It's a false memory, he reminded himself fiercely. Still, it was completely bizarre to hear his best friend talk to Dumbledore in such a rude manner, and he spoke about Cedric's death so casually that it froze the blood in Ron's veins. What these Healers had tried to do to Dumbledore ... it was beyond comprehension.
Then, the image of the Headmaster pointed his wand at Harry. Catching the boy by surprise, he intoned, "Legilimens."
Harry and Cedric were in the Forbidden Forest. It was impossibly dark, and the first sound that could be heard was Cedric screaming as he demanded, "What, Harry? Why are you doing this? I've never done anything to you!"
Ron felt sick as he saw Harry give Cedric a smile, a sinister, unnatural one that he had seen on the face of You-Know-Who less than an hour earlier.
"Because I feel like it," the boy said simply. "Because I've been trained by Barty Crouch, Jr. this entire year. He's taught me things that the likes of you could never truly imagine."
"You ... you're mad!" Cedric gasped as he dodged a nonverbal hex Harry sent at him. "And we don't study this kind of magic until sixth year!"
"Well, you didn't have the luxury of being taught one-on-one by Barty Crouch, did you?" Harry taunted, smirking at Cedric. "You thought Moody was teaching you all year. Only I knew the truth. Barty Crouch, Jr. didn't die in Azkaban, like all of you fools thought."
While Harry had been giving this little diatribe, Cedric shot a spell at him when he hadn't been paying attention. The spell hit Harry's arm, cutting it open and spraying blood everywhere.
Harry gasped in pain, holding his arm close to his side for several seconds, and Cedric stared, horrified at what he'd just done. Unfortunately, Harry used Cedric's horror against him, his mad emerald eyes darkening with frightening anger. "I'll get you for that one, Diggory!" he screamed, casting a powerful spell at him that knocked the older boy off of his feet. He collapsed to his knees, his face full of fear and helplessness.
"Harry, don't do this!" Cedric cried out, looking pleadingly at a boy who was not going to show mercy. "What happened to you? What did Crouch do to you?"
"Crouch," said Harry, pointing his wand straight at Cedric's heart, "showed me what being the Boy Who Lived could truly mean. I will live through this night ... and you won't. Avada Kedavra!"
Ron heard himself cry out in horror as a blast of green light flew out of his best mate's wand, hitting Cedric directly in the chest. With a look of hopelessness and terror etched upon his face, Cedric fell the rest of the way to the ground, not getting up again.
And then, the images changed, and Ron once again saw the sterile room where Dumbledore was still tied to the chair, and the old man was screaming, a raw, unearthly, howling shriek that rent the air and made Ron's head hurt. What the Cruciatus Curse hadn't been able to get out of him, this did. This assault on his mind had forced the sounds of agony to come roaring forth.
"Stop fighting us! Stop fighting us this instant!" the first Healer snarled at Dumbledore.
"You will remember," the second one said, a lot more calmly but no less vicious. "We won't have to hurt you anymore, once you do."
And Ron couldn't take anymore. Unable to bear the sight of Dumbledore screaming, unable to continue hearing the sinister voices of the men as they urged the Headmaster to believe something that wasn't true, unable to come to grips with the fake Harry's mad emerald eyes as he chanted the Killing Curse at Cedric, he ran out of the courtroom, with Hermione, Ginny, the twins, Bill, and his parents following.
And there, outside the room where nightmares had been birthed, Ron Weasley lost his lunch all over the floor, his head pounding, his heart breaking, and his soul in a million pieces.