The world of Harry Potter and its characters belong to JKR. I do not support JKR. Trans women are women. Trans men are men. Trans people are people.
Chapter 19: Preparing for Battle
Just a mere three days after the random medical examination, Ron felt himself becoming less anxious. It was the first day of June, and even though Ron was still preparing for his O.W.L.s, the Tournament, and making sure to keep his prefect duties up to the standard, his friends seemed to lighten the weight on his shoulders. As he ate breakfast alongside Harry, and Ginny the founders stood up to give the Great Hall an announcement.
"Everyone," Hufflepuff said excitedly. "We have an announcement to make. One we are sure you will like."
"Some of them," Slytherin mumbled so only Gryffindor heard, the red-headed wizard stifled a small laugh.
"In anticipation of the Tournament we have prepared the Hogwarts Ball for all of you!" Hufflepuff announced. "A special opportunity for all of the houses to socialise and connect further, and for your Champions to enjoy a moment of rest as the Tournament quickly approaches every day. Students from all houses Year 4 and forth, will be able to attend. As well, any Year 3 students who are personally invited by a student attending the ball."
The hall was mixed with different reactions. Some fourth years who had been unable to go to the Yule Ball looked excited, like Colin Creevey who jumped in his seat looking around perhaps for a possible date. Others looked simply happy for the opportunity, Cedric was smiling at Tamsin Applebee who seemed to blush. Others looked worried, perhaps for what they were going to wear, who they were going to take, or how they were going to look by the time of the event. Neville was one of them as he looked desperately at Ginny, his date for the Yule Ball last year, who instead chatted with Katie Bell excitedly.
"The Ball shall take place the 14th of June," Ravenclaw announced. "Five days before the Hogwarts Tournament, so be prepared. Champions should also be aware they are to entertain their fellow students and the faculty members with a show of their magic."
Ron, and Daphne groaned, Cedric looked thoughtful, and Luna looked excited.
"You are more than allowed to owl your families for your dress robes, or in the case that you have not bought them Lady Hufflepuff and myself will attend to your needs." Slytherin explained. "However, remember we are teachers. Not your personal tailors."
"Good luck to you all," Gryffindor called. "More than anything, the gentlemen."
He and Slytherin proceeded to laugh, with Ravenclaw admonishing her husband.
Ron had already decided on going back to his dorm to take a well deserved nap with some dreamless potion, but as he finished his breakfast and walked back to his dorm, his mind was plagued by insecurity.
'A ball,' Ron thought desperately. 'Why did it have to be a ball? Why couldn't it be another demonstration match? I could handle one of those. Asking out a girl? No way, that is out of the question. Maybe Harry could ask someone for me again? Oh that's pathetic, Weasley'
His mind raced with memories from last year. His fight with Hermione, and the subsequent awkwardness after the event. He thanked Merlin for the fact that his girl best friend was in the library at the time of the announcement.
'I mean,' his mind continued. 'She did tell me that I should invite her the next time there was a ball.'
'Don't be an idiot,' another voice told him. 'Why in the bloody hell would she want to go with you?'
Maybe, he was getting his hopes up. He sighed as he arrived at the Gryffindor Common Room, he picked up a nearby magazine and began reading it out of boredom. He absentmindedly flipped each page, as he felt himself being watched. He turned his head curiously around the Gryffindor Common Room, for some reason feeling as if the person staring at him had just vanished. He went back to the magazine, before leaving it aside, missing as a blonde head of hair rushed back up the stairs to the girl's dorm.
Ron walked up the stairs to his own dorm. He rested on top of his bed, drank some of Dreamless Sleep and closed his eyes. The nightmares did not come this time. However, the simple obscurity of sleeping was somehow more discomforting. He did not dream of anything, and a mere 3 hours later he woke up. It was the afternoon already, Ron no longer felt as tired as before. Still, he decided to go to his private dormitory and to the stadium to get some training before dinner.
When Ron walked out of the Common Room he began to notice eyes on him. Female eyes. They were like hunters, eyeing their prey. Somehow this was worse than last year when girls would do their best to look prettier in front of Harry. He walked the stairs of the castle, and when he passed the library his heart skipped a beat. Maybe she was still in there, there was no way she had a date yet, right? His feet hesitated, and as he ventured his head in, someone nearly crashed into him.
Ron quickly stepped out of the way, and saw Padma Patil stepping out of the library, a small stack of books in her arms.
"Ron?" Padma questioned. "Looking for Hermione? She's in there."
"No," he answered a bit too quickly. "I mean– I was just having a look."
"Alright," she said, looking at him strangely. "Know who you're going to take to the Ball? Or is Harry going to do your dirty work again?"
Ouch.
He deserved that.
"I uh…" Ron started. "Look, Padma–"
"Save it," she sighed. "Just do the right thing this time and ask Granger in time for Merlin's sake."
And with that she left. Well, now he definitely could not ask Hermione. Last year he had been a nasty date to Padma. How in Merlin's beard was he supposed to ask Hermione when even his best friend knew how horrible of a Ball date he had been. Maybe, he could invite Padma again, well properly this time, make amends.
When he made his way away from the library he was met by a whip of blonde hair hitting his face. Large amounts of perfume hit his nostrils, and a flash of makeup filled his sight. Lavender Brown stood in front of him.
"Hello Ron," she gushed while smiling at him, her dark pink lip gloss highlighted her white smile. "How are you?"
"I'm great, Lavender," he puzzled. "I'm just going to train."
"Can I come?" she hurriedly asked.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Ron explained, still in confusion over Lavender's sudden interest. "I mean you'll get bored."
"Oh I assure you, Ron," her eyelids went half-lidded and she stared strangely at him. "There's nothing boring to look at."
"Sure," he faltered, before going back on his way to the arena.
That was weird. Was she flirting with him? No. No way. Lavender Brown was one of the most attractive girls in Hogwarts. There would be no way she would be interested in him. However, it was weird how insistent she was about joining him. He was probably imagining things. Surely, there were more attractive and handsome options for a girl like her. Pinker options. Someone like Cormac McLaggen maybe, or Seamus even. He did remember his own dorm mate coming back from the Yule Ball, sounding so excited about his date with her last year.
When he reached his private dorm he did not feel as adequate as when he came down from the Common Room. He could use that, use his frustrations as fuel for training.
Harry did not think this was a good idea, but he definitely thought it was better than asking a girl to the ball. When he had come to the Common Room, he found Fred and George surrounded by a bunch of people. Gryffindor who were all clamouring and yelling as they handed galleons, and sickles to the twins. It turned out that they were going to sell an exclusive view into Ron's training session without his knowledge. When Harry asked them how exactly they were going to do that without Ron finding out, they pulled out the Marauders' Map. They figured if they had given it to Harry, they could borrow it for just a while, couldn't they? While Harry did not necessarily approve, he did not stop it. A part of him felt guilty for doing so, he remembered Ron's anger before term started at his brothers.
However, the feeling was swayed away by his curiosity for Ron's own personal training. A small peek couldn't hurt after all. Even so, as they went down the corridors and halls, his own guilt weighed on him, asking him to speak up, to say something. But how could he?
'How could you not?' his conscience spoke to him.
On the way, Lavender Brown, and Susan Bones, who were both engaged in some other conversation, joined them. As the group of people passed through the library, Hermione followed behind asking Harry what was happening.
Neville, Seamus, Dean, Ginny and even Katie Bell and the Gryffindor Quidditch Team all accompanied the group, after begrudgingly paying Fred and George.
He did not speak to her either.
'Coward,' it spoke to him again.
They reached a wall, simply that, there was no door, or a form of walking to where Ron was currently located on the map. Or more, where he was not. Fred raised his wand and casted a Revelio revealing a large chain and handle that both twins pulled down. An archway tall enough to fit even Hagrid appeared on the wall, and everyone quickly walked in.
As Harry heard Hermione ask the twins just exactly what they thought they were doing, only to reprimand them a moment later, he walked in quietly like everyone else. They were whispering excitedly amongst themselves, and Harry could not admit it to anyone, but he was excited too. A large room larger than the Great Hall, and almost as big as the Quidditch Pitch appeared to everyone's eyes. Its ceiling was high, and its round shape held seats like stands at the Quidditch Pitch where presumably everyone would be seated for the Tournament. Ron was below them, he was casting some spells as he waved his sword in an expert manner. Harry took a seat quietly as the twins, and Hermione came in.
Ron was in the middle of the grounds, an arena, he had a sword on one hand and his wand in the other. In a moment he murmured a spell, and waved his wand. And without further notice spectral forms of weird looking creatures surrounded Ron. Without wasting a moment, Ron slashed his sword, beheading one of them, another came at him from the back only for Ron to jump over it impaling his weapon on the creature's back, he shot at two fire spells at a handful of them, before taking back his sword cutting one in half.
It was amazing, he did not look like Ron at all, but an expert duellist. Every moment seemed precise and natural, as if he had planned a choreography of fighting with the dummies.
However, soon many entrapped him, they slashed him at him and even nicked him resulting in some blood that Harry, and many others were surprised by. In a moment of overwhelmed exhaustion, Ron stretched his arm to cast another curse, only for one of the creatures to grab at him, yanking his arm and causing Ron to let out a yelp of pain.
"FUCK!" Ron waved at his wand, and all the dummies disappeared. He held his arm, and grimaced in pain. He seemed to push on it in an odd sort of way, before he discarded his top robe. Harry glanced around and noticed Hermione, Lavender, Susan, Katie Bell and some other girls blushing, he even noticed Dean's face reddening. Even Harry had to admit that Ron looked in far better shape than most of the blokes in Gryffindor. Ron's shoulder looked weird and off putting, as if some bone stuck out weirdly. He laid on the ground holding his arm, before angling his body in a weird way, as it seemed to pop back into place.
He rested on the ground breathing heavily, the scratch was around on the middle of his stomach, and was bloody. He accioed a bottle that flew perfectly to his hand, he uncorked the vial and poured it over his wound which quickly healed leaving only a faint pink scar that looked to disappear very slowly.
The bandages that surrounded Ron's arms seemed to weigh him, Harry suspected they weighed far more than what they looked like. Ron moved his arms and stood up, he grabbed his robes and hid his torso, as he aimed his wand at the vial turning it into a glass. He picked up the glass and poured some water from his wand, before a door opened and he left through it.
"Alright everyone," Fred announced. "Show's over."
Some students protested, but Hermione used her prefect badge to make sure that none would speak out of order. As they left through the door Harry heard some of his friends speak.
"That was amazing," Neville praised. "I've never seen someone move like that."
"It was awesome," Seamus added. "He was like a bloody expert. Did you see the way he killed those things?"
"It was brilliant," Dean said. "I wonder if he could teach some of those moves."
"We shouldn't have seen that," Hermione interrupted. "It is forbidden for anyone to speak about let alone watch what we just saw."
"Calm down, Hermione," Lavender said. "No one noticed, and besides it was a good show."
Hermione glared murderously at Lavender.
"We invaded Ron's privacy," Hermione continued. "Doesn't anybody have a problem with that?"
At that everyone went silent. Harry felt his conscience weigh him down as he kept silent as well. He was ashamed, of that he was sure. Hermione went on to take points away from the twins, and everyone who had stayed.
Ron had just finished bathing in the Prefect's Bathroom. He began walking towards the Great Hall, when he caught the sight of Susan Bones struggling with her potions' cauldron and her school bag. Ron walked over, intending to help her.
"Need some help with that?" he asked. At the sound of his voice Susan raised her head, and looked at Ron. Her cheeks for some reason went pink. Susan Bones was a girl in his year, the amount of times they had talked was just about a handful. She was a girl with brown chestnut hair that she wore in a long braid down her back, she had brown eyes and tan skin along with freckles along her nose and cheeks. She was pretty, Ron could not deny that, but he knew virtually nothing about her.
"Thanks," she nearly whispered as she handed Ron her cauldron. He nodded his head as they began to walk. It was a bit awkward, but Ron did not know why.
"So," Susan suddenly started. "Do you know who you are going to ask for the ball?"
The question confused Ron, but he answered nonetheless.
"Not really," he answered. It was not a lie, he truly did not know who he was going to ask for the ball. "Has anyone asked you?"
At that she giggled. "I mean, they just announced it. I think people are still thinking of what they are going to wear"
"Oh, guess so," Ron replied. "But… You know…"
"I know what?"
"You're pretty," he said pretty unashamedly. Her cheeks reddened at that.
"What?"
"You know," Ron continued. "You are quite pretty. I'd be surprised if someone like Zacharias Smith wasn't dying to ask you."
"Ewww," Susan laughed at the suggestion. "I'd rather go with my broom stick than with Zacharias. Don't get me wrong, he's not–"
"A pompous prick?"
"No," she continued. "He's not as bad as you may think. He's just… Overly cautious."
"That sounds like such a Huffelpuff way of describing a pompous prick."
"Maybe," she said in between giggles. "You're really funny, y'know."
"Really?" and for the first time, Ron felt his cheeks and ears redden.
"Yeah," she said, her own cheeks blushing. "Although, you really have a bad taste in teams."
"What do you mean?" Ron questioned.
"I remember last year," she recalled. "You were talking with Ernie MacMillan and Terry Boot about the Chudley Cannons and how they were doing during the season."
"So?" he defied.
"You like the Chudley Cannons, Ron." Susan simply stated.
"What's wrong with the Cannons?" Susan simply arched her eyebrow. "Alright, yes. I know they always lose. I've always known, but it's not about if they win a lot or not. It's about someone supporting you no matter what," Susan stayed silent, listening intently to what Ron was saying. "They're the underdogs. In every single match they're in I could count on one hand the amount of people that are actually barmy enough to think they'll win. And I'm one of them."
"So," Susan said. "No matter what happens someone will always believe in them?"
Ron nodded, his ears going pink in embarrassment.
"That's so sweet."
The two smiled. They kept talking for just a bit, before Susan took back her cauldron as she headed to her Common Room, not without wishing Ron luck on his demonstration for the Ball.
After she left, Ron remembered his additional task of coming up with a show for his fellow students and professors. With two goals in mind Ron took the easy path, and headed to the library… In search of some spells that may prove useful for his demonstration at the Ball, of course. Even so, as he glanced around in search of a book about fancy spellwork and flashy magic, there was no hint of a mane of bushy brown curls. He sat down, his eyes looking at a page of Enchanted Illusions: Mastering Visual Conjurations, and yet he was not reading. His mind was still on the Hogwarts Ball. And on who exactly he was supposed to take.
Lavender Brown had, for whatever reason, decided to show some interest in Ron. Even if it was as shallow as his status as Gryffindor's Champion, she was still most likely the most attractive girl in his year. She was a risky option, but may likely say yes. Perhaps he would have to tidy up, and listen to her talk about Astronomy and Divination, but she was not the worst person he could take.
Next was Susan Bones. He had just had his first real conversation with her, but she seemed like a great girl. She was even pretty. No one had asked her yet, and he did not want to make the same mistake as last year. As Fred had said all the good ones would be gone if he did not hurry.
Then, Padma Patil. To be honest, Ron felt like a complete arse for how he had treated her last year. Maybe the Hogwarts Ball was an opportunity to make amends. To be better. If he swallowed his pride and apologised properly, she could maybe consider going with him. After all, maybe going to the Ball as one of the Champions' companions would be an exciting opportunity for her.
Last was Hermione.
Hermione…
Oh there was not a hair in Ron's body that did not yearn for her to go with him. He could just imagine her, looking as gorgeous as she did last year. She would dance with Ron, just the two of them away from everything. No prefect rounds to be made, no silly training whether for the Tournament or for Quidditch. Just the two, swaying to the music. Ron would hold her close, he would make her laugh, he would make sure that she would experience the best night of her life at Hogwarts. And this time, there would be no stupid, overrated, crow-looking, Bulgarian seekers to intervene.
But would she say yes? Of course she would say yes, but not in the way he wanted her to say yes. He wanted her to go with him not out of pity, but out of the fact that he was Ron. He wanted her to be as excited and happy to go to the Yule Ball with him, as he felt at the mere idea of going with her. He wanted her to go with him as his date. Not his friend.
As if that would ever happen. Champion of Gryffindor or not. He was still Ron Weasley. He was still himself.
When the night settled in, Ron went to his dorm, he felt fine, but with another thing to add to his worries he could feel the weight of it all falling on his shoulders. He wondered for a moment if this was what Harry felt. As if his locket was the weight of his stress itself, his shoulders slumped as he put it on. Tonight he would be patrolling with Pansy Parkinson, he would just get over it before his head would explode. He had managed to spend all day without seeing Hermione, and his mood was soured by it.
Hermione was supposed to patrol with Anthony Goldstein. For some reason that did not sit right with him. It was not that he disliked Goldstein, he did not even know him enough to have a proper opinion on him. However, that was also the reason behind his unease, what if the bloke was some smarmy guy like McLaggen? Or the silent cocky type like Krum? Ron tried very hard to ignore the good things Terry Boot had said about Goldstein in passing the times Ron had talked with him.
Ron was on the seventh floor when Pansy joined him. As they walked the two tried their hardest to ignore each other, they –and by they Ron meant him since Ms. Princess held no desire to do any work– opened broom closets and checked empty classrooms, all while holding each other in silent contempt. As they passed through the third floor both of them heard something. Ron's wand lit, and Pansy reluctantly followed to the Armoury, and what they saw shocked them more than any student.
There he was, Percy Weasley and Winky the house-elf. Ron's older, and more pompous brother was holding a bottle of Firewhisky in his hand, half-empty as well. His glasses were crooked, his cheeks were pink, and his bow tie was loose around his neck. He was also on the ground, the sound had most likely been Percy stumbling onto the armours of Hogwarts. Alongside him, trying to help him from the looks of it, was Winky. She was also holding a bottle, but hers was of Butterbeer. She looked to be shushing Ron's older brother.
Percy was drunk.
The smarmiest, most proper of the Weasley siblings was drunk and stumbling at Hogwarts of all places. A place where he had told Ron to act properly. The hypocrisy of his brother's actions seemed to fuel a long simmering anger, that Ron himself had ignored for far too long.
"What the hell are you doing Percy?" Ron groaned.
"Looks like he's making my night," Parkinson gloated, Ron ignored her.
Percy looked up, and stumbled his way to Ron. His breath smelled of liquor and a faint scent of mint.
"Ron," Percy slurred. "Shhhh. The prefects might catch us."
"Sir," Winky pulled on Percy's robes, her speech was all over the place. "Sirrr."
"Percy," Ron said. "We're prefects."
Percy took a step back as if looking at his brother for the first time and he spotted his prefect badge pinned to his chest. Suddenly, Percy engulfed his brother in a tight hug.
"Oh Merlin," Percy said. "I am so proud of you, Ronnie."
"Ronnie?" Parkinson laughed demeaningly. This time Ron simply glared at her, his face more resembling a sneer coming from Malfoy. Winky saw the look on Ron's face and backed away.
Ron tried very hard to ignore the fact that this was the first time in a long time that he had hugged Percy, he pushed the feeling aside and shoved his brother.
"I'll ask again," he said through gritted teeth. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"
"Relax, Ronnie," he dismissed Ron's question once more. "I am just –hiccup– having a good time." Percy proceeded to take a drink from his bottle.
"Oh Malfoy is going to love this!" Parkinson giggled.
"Quiet, Parkinson!" Ron demanded. Winky shrieked, dropping the bottle of Butterbeer on the ground as she vanished to the kitchens most likely. The bottle shattered, leaving pieces of glass all over the place. The sound and mess only made Ron feel angrier. Ron yanked the bottle of Firewhisky out of his brother's hand.
"Oi," Percy protested.
"That's enough," he stood up to Percy, his brother was still taller than Ron, but at that moment he looked pathetically small. "I'll ask one more time, Percy. What. Do you think. You're Doing?"
"I just…" Percy had the decency to look ashamed. "I am going through something, Ron… You would not under–"
Ron yanked Percy by the collar of his robes. "You are going through something?!" Ron hissed, holding his brother up close. "Did you perhaps think that Mum and Dad were not going through something when you yelled at them, before you left?! What about Ginny?! She cried all night that day! Don't you think maybe she was going through something too?! What about me?! I'm a prefect, Percy! The keeper of the Quidditch Team! And if you had somehow forgotten, the bloody CHAMPION OF GRYFFINDOR!"
Percy was silent, so was Pansy. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of Ron's hard breathing.
"Get this through your head, Percy," Ron whispered. "You are not, or ever will be as important as you think you are."
Ron shoved Percy, the older Weasley stumbled as he fell on his arse, his glasses fell from his face, and landed by his side. In his temporary blindness, Percy accidentally crushed his own glasses with his hand. He looked down on them, and his face seemed to fully fall. His eyes were closed and his gaze was down, but Ron could tell that Percy was crying. Ron had never seen Percy like this, he had seen him scared, stressed, happy, angry and annoyed, but never in his sixteen years of life had Ron ever seen Percy crying. That was when the guilt hit Ron, but he could not feel it. He could not allow himself to feel it.
Ron walked over to his brother, and took his glasses, fixing them with a charm before handing them back. As he walked out of the Armoury with Parkinson behind him, he tried his best to forget the whole thing.
"Wow, Weasley," she exclaimed after a few moments of silent patrol. "I figured having to share a single plate at home would cause trouble, but that was some proper brotherly fighting."
Ron stopped, and turned around.
"Not a word of this to anyone, Parkinson," he gritted at her.
"Or what?" she challenged, her arms crossing around her front.
Ron neared her slowly, his wand was still in his hand now spewing magic from Ron's rage, Pansy noticed this and began to slowly step back, until without noticing she fell back against the wall. Ron raised his wand at her face, a glowing red light at its tip.
"Or," he nearly growled. "I will make sure that your ugly, disgusting nose is the least noticeable thing about your face."
She was afraid. She had stopped breathing.
Pansy was absolutely terrified. Her legs trembled and for the life of her she could not command her body to grab her wand. Weasley was glaring at her with the utmost hate and anger that any person could possibly have, his face was screwed in a sneer that rivalled those of Malfoy, his eyes looked red, perhaps from the glowing spell at the tip of his tongue, or another reason. She did not care enough to find out.
"Are we clear, Parkinson?"
She nodded rapidly.
"Good," he walked away from her, and lowered his wand, putting it in his pocket. "You can leave now, I'll finish patrolling for the both of us."
At that Pansy ran as fast as she could. No thought of running into a professor, or another pair of prefects crossed her mind. The only thing she wanted was to get to her dorm.
Percy was crying. He was aware of how pathetic he looked. He was surprised Ron had decided to not comment on it. Hell, how had that Slytherin girl not straight up laughed at him? He was wet, he had accidentally poured some Firewhisky on himself back at the kitchens. He could not even fix his own glasses, his little brother had needed to fix them for him. When he put them on, he noticed the wetness of his hand, and his sleeves. The butterbeer that Winky had dropped had gotten to him. Like a dog licking his wounds, Percy simply licked the Butterbeer off.
"Sweet?" a deep voice asked behind him. Percy turned to look, and saw Godric Gryffindor standing at the other side of the Armoury on the way to the Trophy Room.
"Lord Gryffindor?" he said stupidly. He inwardly cursed alcohol, and its effects.
"How are you, my boy?" Gryffindor walked towards him, and helped Percy stand up. He stumbled for a bit.
"I am sorry, sir," he said, closing his eyes and holding the bridge of his nose. "I guess Firewhisky is a bit too strong for me."
"Drink this," he opened his eyes and saw a vial in Gryffindor's hands.
"What is it?" he asked.
"A Sobering-Potion," he replied.
"Thank you, sir," Percy gladly took it, and as the potion went down his throat, his head cleared and the dizziness he felt dissipated as well. He could finally stand without any assistance, but the realisation of what had just happened made him want to crawl on the ground and cry once more. He could feel Gryffindor's eyes on him, and wondered what he was going to say to avoid any more embarrassment.
"I don't need to tell you that drunken behaviour is not permitted inside Hogwarts, do I, Mr. Weasley?"
"No, sir," he could not raise his eyes off the ground.
"Tell me, Percy," he said as he vanished the broken bottle of Butterbeer from the ground. The two began to walk. "What could have happened to you to get into such a state?"
When he did not respond Gryffindor simply took a deep breath.
"Keeping your thoughts to yourself is more akin to a Slytherin," he said. "I guess the Sorting Hat was right to consider you for that house."
At that Percy raised his head in shock, a knowing smile was planted on Gryffindor's face.
"You know?" Percy asked, surprised.
"I know most about everything that has happened in this castle since my death," he explained. "Even your… close inter-house bonding with Ms. Clearwater."
Percy's cheeks and nose reddened at the mention of his ex-girlfriend.
"You like them smart don't you?" Gryffindor teased. "Me too."
That managed to make Percy smile, before he was reminded of the very brilliant and smart witch that he had hurt. The guilt came to him, and he felt like his heart wanted to come out of his mouth. It was unbearable.
"Is that it?" Gryffindor gently asked. "Has something happened with Ms. Alysnes and you?"
Percy must have looked surprised once more.
"I was there, remember?" Gryffindor said. "When your young brother Ron fought against Ms. Greengrass. Now, I may not be the smartest of my fellow founders, but I do recognise a man talking to his loved ones. A most important loved one at that. So, is that the reason for your current… predicament?"
"I ruined everything," Percy began confessing. "I had the most wonderful witch in the world as my girlfriend, and I managed to hurt her. And in the process, I got a subscription to Zonko's Joke Shop that has not stopped sending powered laughing powder to my mail every week. I probably deserve it."
"Have you tried apologising?" Gryffindor asked, and Percy cringed. "And now there's the problem."
"But how could I apologise?" Percy almost whined. "I said horrible things to her, that I did not mean, because I was an angry idiot. She was right. Of course she was right, but I did not want to admit that to her. And now it has been months and we still have not talked. I am at a loss here, and I do not know what to do."
"In my opinion there are only two things you can do, Percy," and Percy listened carefully. "You can either learn from this experience, and move on."
And Gryffindor stayed silent, simply staring at Percy.
"Or?" Percy questioned.
"That is exactly it," Gryffindor answered. "You know Ms. Alysnes. You are quite fond of her, so my only advice is to listen to your heart. Do not let it reign you, but do understand that it is a very noble part of you. I am sure that with it and your impressive mind, and determination you can manage to find the answer."
Percy sighed. It sounded like good advice, and the flattering was also nice.
"I just wished you could have advised me when I fought with my father, Lord Gryffindor," he said. They had reached Percy's office. "I also let my anger get a hold of me that day. I told him horrible things, and left without truly explaining myself. Now I am not even sure if I have a home anymore. Thank you, anyway. You have been of great help."
And Percy closed the door, not realising the effects of his words.
Helena was roaming Ravenclaw Tower. She had been doing that for a long time. Oswald's company was one of the very few things she would look up to this school year, and she was waiting for his arrival any minute. A door creaked in the dead of night. That was not Oswald, ghosts could not physically interact with physical objects unless they used magic. What would be the purpose of opening a door anyways? They could always phase through it. Still, she was unimpressed, what could harm her? She was already dead.
"Helena."
Oh.
How could she have forgotten? Her father. As she turned, she felt like a young girl once more. Having finished her classes with her mother, with her father waiting outside for the two of them. And now here he was.
"Father," Helena said, trying hard to keep all emotion out of her voice. "What are you doing here?"
"I am sorry, Helena," he said, nearly cutting her off. The silence was deafening. Not a word or breath could be heard. Most likely because neither of them was truly alive.
"What?" she said, and she could feel silver tears brimming in her eyes.
"I said I am sorry," he continued. "I was not the best father. Not out of your best interest, but out of mind. I always believed that you could do anything that you set your mind to, but that was the exact reason for why I never taught you Dragon Magic. I believed you could have been great, even better than I ever was. I knew that you would pour your blood, sweat and tears into the training it demanded… But that was the problem."
"I could not handle the idea of putting you through the pain that I went through. I felt completely incapable of seeing you get hurt in any way, but you did get hurt… And you got hurt trying to do the exact thing I did not want you to do. And all my fears came true whether I liked it or not. So I am sorry for everything. I am sorry for being a weak father. And I am sorry for being so undeniably selfish. I should have trusted you as much as you trusted me. "
He looked as if a weight had been removed from his shoulders, as if he could breathe just a bit easier.
"I love you, Helena," and with that he bowed his head and left the Ravenclaw Tower. As she heard the steps of his father drifting away, she could finally let herself cry.
"I love you too, father," she said. She would say it to him, before he would leave. She bowed to do so.
When Ron woke up, memories of last night flooded his mind. The regret and guilt hit him like a wave. Percy had not deserved what Ron had said to him, and Pansy Parkinson was not someone who really deserved to be threatened. No matter how awful either of them could be, still he felt guilt seeping into himself. It seemed his life would take one step forward and two back. Why had Percy decided on becoming problematic when Ron needed to care about school procedure?
There was also the issue of Hermione, and his demonstration for the Ball. As he walked down the stairs into the Common Room he saw her. He saw Hermione, and his mood began to improve just by looking at her. In a moment of brazen boldness, Ron took a breath and stepped forward. He sat on the couch in front of the fireplace where Hermione was reading a book. This could not be too hard, could it? He had fought werewolves, acromantulas, and had taken down two trolls. Not to mention that just a week ago the last game of the Quidditch season had been played. Gryffindor had won the match and the Cup.
"Hermione," he said, her head rose from in between the pages of her book. "Could we talk in private?"
Her eyes narrowed in confusion, before her cheeks blushed for some reason.
"Oh," she closed her book, putting it aside. "Sure. Of course. Yes, uhm… Where?"
Ron simply stood and gestured to her to follow him. He ignored the looks both Harry and Ginny were throwing at the pair.
Both of them walked out of Gryffindor Tower until they were near the library.
"So you know about the Ball, right?"
"Yes," she said just a bit quickly.
"Well," he said, gathering his courage. "I was wondering…"
"Yes?" all of her attention was on him.
"I was wondering if you could help me research what sort of magic I can do for my demonstration?"
'COWARD!' his mind practically bellowed at him.
Hermione looked disappointed. Almost, like when Ron had nearly denied the prefect position back at Grimmauld Place.
"Oh," she said… dejectedly? "Of course, Ron. Happy to help."
The two walked into the library and Hermione picked out a different variety of books, and when they sat down the two were in silence. Very awkward silence.
'Stop being a scaredy cat, Weasley,' his inner-self reprimanded. 'Are you not a Gryffindor?'
"Hermione," he whispered. She did not raise her eyes from the book.
"Yes?" she said, completely focused on whatever she was reading.
"Would you," he coughed. "Would you like to go to the Ball with me?"
"Oh right, of course," she said absentmindedly, until she realised exactly what Ron had asked. She shook her head as if to clear it. "What did you say?"
'Here goes nothing, Weasley.'
"Would you like to go to the Ball…?" And when he saw that she was about to answer, he put a hand upfront to stop her. "Would you like to go to the Ball with me as my date?"
Her eyes opened and her cheeks went a rose pink.
"A date?"
He steeled himself for rejection. Ron nodded.
And then the best thing happened, Hermione smiled at Ron.
"I would be very happy to go with you to the Ball as your date."
Ron felt like he could fly without a broom.
"Alright, then," he said, most likely smiling like an idiot, but he did not care. She was also smiling, the two probably looked dumb just staring at one another. Who cared though? He had a date with Hermione Granger. The two went back to reading their books in silence. Thank Merlin it did not feel as awkward.
Notes: I am aware that I did not mention the last Quidditch Match of the season in previous chapters. Which was something I could have taken advantage of for story purposes. However, that match was on the last weekend of May which would have been a week earlier, and in terms of development it does not work in this version of 5th year. Since, there is no Umbridge, Harry is not kicked from the Quidditch team and plays the game, there is also no reason for Hagrid to introduce Grawp to Harry and Hermione since he is in no threat of being fired.