CHAPTER FOURTEEN: SECRETS REVEALED

Hogsmeade Village

Scotland

12 November 1994

"I dunno," Ron continued as they walked towards the Three Broomsticks, "I really think Hermione is still upset."

"About the first task?"

"Yeah."

Harry looked confused. "Why?"

"Blames herself for placing second."

"I mean, yeah, but it was a close second. Only one point, and that's only because Georg is pretty good on a broom."

Ron shrugged. "She still blames herself. She's convinced it all came down to the broom bit at the end."

"She did take the longest to get the note from the Snidget," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, if only because both Georg and Talon played Quidditch. As Seekers."

"Mm. Yeah. She really shouldn't blame herself, then."

Ron rolled his eyes. "It's Hermione, she blames herself for everything."

Harry sighed. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're coming with me to see Sirius."

Ron blinked at the non sequitur. "It's not a problem. I'm a bit surprised you asked."

Harry looked slightly uncomfortable. "Look, Sirius is way better than he was. You saw how he was in Diagon -"

"-mostly fine, but a bit...on edge?"

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah."

"It'll be alright."

"I hope so. His letters haven't been odd, it's just that I get these feelings sometimes."

"Feelings?"

Harry shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and shrugged. "Yeah, feelings. Not like emotion-feelings, but feelings, like there's something bad that's going to happen."

Ron's brow furrowed. "Like, Divination-feelings?"

"No," Harry said emphatically. "Not like Divination. I just can't describe it. It's just some kind of knowing."

"Sounds awfully like Divination."

"Oh shut it. We're here, anyway."

"Convenient," Ron quipped.

Harry ignored him, and entered the Three Broomsticks where they were immediately greeted by the warm scent of butterbeer and good pub food as well as an energetic Sirius Black.

"Harry! How's my favorite godson doing today?"

"Good."

"And Ron, crickey, you seem to be getting taller every time I see you! How have you been?"
"Good, thanks."

Sirius rubbed his hands together. "Excellent, well, I have a table on reserve, I'm sure you both are terribly hungry."

Harry grinned. "Starving."

Sirius flagged down a waitress, and in short order they were escorted to a table. It didn't take them long to order - bangers and mash for Harry and Sirius, cottage pie for Ron, and butter beer for all - and then it was back to the small talk Ron had been dreading.

"So, that first Triwizard task, eh?" Sirius began, "Pretty impressive, don't you two think? Hermione, she did pretty well."

Harry nodded. "She did. She's a little disappointed, but I'm sure she'll get it back in the second task. It was the broom bit at the end that hurt her."

"Ironically, I think she would have done better in the middle bracket's task," Ron added. "Not that Euan did poorly at all - the way he flew across the chasm on the hippogriff was completely insane - awesome, but insane - but Hermione would have solved the sphinx's riddle in under a minute."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really. She's a right genius."

"How'd she not end up a Ravenclaw, then?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Hermione's pretty clever, so I can definitely see why she's in Slytherin."

"She's top of our year, too," Ron added. "Some of the blood purists have been getting pretty shirty about it."

Sirius snorted lightly. "I can only imagine. My mother would be turning in her grave if she heard that, the racist old bat."

The arrival of their food saved them from having to move the conversation away from Sirius' late mother. Ron was pleased enough with the cottage pie; in his rather biased opinion, it wasn't quite as good as the cottage pie at the Muddy Hippogriff. The butterbeer, however, was incredible. Ron had only had some once before since he didn't have Galleons to spare, and he was definitely missing out on a critical part of the Hogsmeade experience.

As they got further into their meal, the conversation took a slow - and unfortunate - turn towards politics. "I think it's boring," Sirius said, poking at the remains of his bangers and mash, "Bunch of old wizards nattering on about Merlin knows what. I didn't even want to reclaim the Black seat, but my cousin insisted."

"...which cousin?" Harry asked.

"Cissy," Sirius replied through a mouthful of mash. "Said it was part of my familial duties."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. She sent me a letter with a punch of pureblood piss in it. I responded in kind, of course, because that's the name of the game, but I didn't want to reclaim it."

"Why did you?" Harry asked.

"Because my cousin made a very good point," Sirius said, "surprising, I know, given her repulsive habits, but, I realized she was right about one thing. And, that one thing meant that she was absolutely correct in insisting that I re-establish the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black as a force to be reckoned with on the Wizengamot."

"What was the thing?"

Sirius tapped the side of his nose. "A common enemy. And that's all I'll say here. Excuse me, while I pay."

Sirius stood, and headed to the bar while Harry and Ron exchanged a look, both wondering who Sirius Black and Narcissa Black Malfoy would consider to be a common enemy.

Darkened Hallway

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

12 November 1994

Ron yawned softly, eager to get back to the dorms. After a long visit to Hogsmeade and several productive hours in the library, he was more than ready to go to bed. Ron hefted his bookbag higher on his shoulder, then stopped abruptly as the hair on his neck stood on end. There were whispered voices ahead, and Ron crept slowly closer, straining to hear the conversation.

"You don't scare me."

"I would argue otherwise."

"I think you're afraid, and trying to manipulate me into believing otherwise. I know you, and I know your tactics. I will not allow you to disway me."

"Why would I be afraid? Need I remind you that it was I who stood at the Dark Lord's right hand? Where were you then? Hiding away at your school?"

"You have no idea -"

"Do not even attempt to play mind games with me. You know which of us whispers in the Dark Lord's ear. I know his plans."

Ron felt like his blood had frozen.

"Do not test my patience, Igor," the first voice continued darkly, "You will find I have none of it."

There was the sound of spitting, the soft snickt of a wand leaving a sheath, the thud of a body hitting a wall.

Heart in his mouth, Ron crept backwards, scarcely daring to breathe. All he wanted was to escape unnoticed, and hide in his bed for a good long while. Ron strained his ears as he slowly moved away, and caught the barest hint of a whisper followed by something hard connecting with flesh.

"You sack of useless shit," the first voice spat.

Precise footsteps tapped closer, and Ron scrambled up against the wall of the corridor. Maybe, if he remained silent, he wouldn't be seen. Ron held his breath, and almost gasped at the figure who turned the corner. He'd been expecting some terrifying Death Eater, someone so foul it was patently obvious that they'd supported the Dark Lord.

He wasn't expecting to see Professor Prince.

He also wasn't expecting to be terrified out of his mind. While Professor Prince was intimidating, Ron had never been scared of him. Sure, the twins had told stories about how horrible he could be, but they'd told stupid stories about everyone. Ron hadn't believed them, especially not after getting to know the professor.

Now, Ron understood.

Professor Prince was absolutely terrifying. Anger was etched into every line of his body as he strode down the corridor towards Ron, wand brandished. Ron felt as if he couldn't move.

"How much did you hear?" Professor Prince demanded.

Ron tried to answer, but the words wouldn't come out.

"How much did you hear?" Professor Prince snapped louder. "And what in Merlin's name were you doing at this hour?"

"I - common room - library," Ron managed.

"How much did you hear?" Professor Prince demanded, standing close enough loom over Ron.

"I -"

Suddenly, Ron was staring down the length of Professor Prince's wand, and felt himself go slightly cross eyed. Professor Prince made eye contact, then, without warning, Ron felt like his brain had turned into a deck of Exploding Snap cards. Snippets of conversation flashed through his mind, and then he was back in the present, head reeling.

Professor Prince stared at him for a long moment. "I am sorry I have to do this, Mr. Weasley, but I have no other choice. Obliviate!"

Ron shook his head dazedly. Merlin, it'd been a long day if he was this tired. Talking to Sirius over lunch must have been far more stressful than he thought. Ron yawned, and trudged towards the common room. He couldn't wait to curl up in his bed.

Unfortunately, when he got back to his room, sleep was the last thing he'd be able to do. Theo was sitting on their floor, in the midst of trying not to have a panic attack, and Harry was crouched next to him, speaking softly. Ron could only hear snippets of conversation; it seemed to be something about Theo's father.

"Ron, can you close and lock the door?" Harry said mildly.

Ron did as he was told. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

Harry grimaced. "No, not really."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you can kill my father," Theo said hoarsely.

Ron settled down next to them. "What happened?" Ron asked, then mentally kicked himself as Theo winced. "Sorry. You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he added hurriedly.

Theo drew a slow breath. "It's okay. It's just … it's complicated."

"That's alright. Also, you really don't need to tell us if it's going to upset you."

Theo shook his head. "No, I should tell you. That way, if I end up dead, at least the two of you will know why."

Silence hung heavily in the air.

"Theo…" Harry began.

"No," Theo interrupted. "I want to tell you. Just...it's a lot, okay?"

"It's okay."

"Go on, Theo."

Theo took another slow breath. "You know… you know how my father married twice? That's where this all starts. My father's first wife was Anastasiya Dolohova, the eldest daughter of Viktor Dolohov and Maya Morozova. Anastasiya had my oldest sister, Arya, fairly early into her marriage. She took longer to become pregnant with my other half-sister, Helena…"

Theo looked away for a moment. "Apparently, there were a lot of complications with the pregnancy. Helena… Helena was stillborn, and Anastasiya died very shortly afterward. There was never any proof of foul play, and you can be certain that the Dolohovs did investigate. They could still be investigating, for all I know. I think Arya is somewhere in the line of succession for the Russian throne, although the rules get complicated because she's a girl.

"But, anyway, my father remarried fairly quickly, this time to my mother, Rhea Malfoy of Black Heights. She was the last of the Black Heights Malfoys - quite distant cousins of Draco's family, actually. Rhea had me, which pleased Father because he needed a son as an heir. I think he was hoping for a second son, when Mother got pregnant again, you know, in case something happened to me, or in case he needed to make something happen to me. But, instead, Mother had my sister, Diana. Mother...she died during childbirth."

Theo's eyes were full of tears. "Do you know how few witches die in childbirth? Between the resources at St. Mungo's and the invention of modern healing potions, there was no reason for her to die. But Father insisted Diana be born in the manor, and Mother died. I don't believe that was a coincidence. Both my mother and Arya's mother died shortly after or during the birth of their second child, and both of the second children were female.

"I'm just so scared. I'm scared I'm next."

Ron's brow furrowed. "Why would you be next? You're his only son."

Theo hugged his knees. "Father has...certain...political beliefs," he finally said. "Most of them I really don't agree with, and it's only a matter of time until he discovers the extent of my opinions. He'll either try to 'convince' me to agree with him or he'll make sure I'm not a problem anymore."

"But he'll still need an heir," Harry pointed out.

"He's been talking about another marriage," Theo said quietly. "If he has another son, he won't need me anymore."

They sat in silence for a while, and Ron desperately tried to think of something to say. He couldn't think of anything. There really was nothing he could say to make the situation better. Harry was much better than he was with words and feelings.

"I'll be back," Ron muttered, feeling far too awkward, "er, loo."

Ron walked into the fourth-year boys' loo and was immediately greeted by the disgusting sound of retching, quickly followed by a toilet flushing. Ron wasn't sure who was expecting to see come out of the stall, but he certainly wasn't expecting Draco. His hair was in disarray, and he looked pale and sickly.

"Are you alright?"

Draco shook his head, and wordlessly headed over to the sink to rinse out his mouth.

"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing? Should I get Professor Prince?"

Draco shook his head again.

"Are you sure? You look terrible."

Draco turned to face him. Ron could see dark circles under the other boy's eyes, and it didn't look like he'd gotten a good night's sleep recently. "There's nothing anyone can do."

"Malfoy...Draco, I'm sure there's something someone could do. I can go get Professor Prince…"

"No!" Draco said forcefully. "That won't help. It's nothing anyone can help with."

"What's wrong?"

Draco glanced downwards, and Ron noticed he was holding a crumpled letter in his hand. "I -" Draco sank to the floor, staring at the letter "I - my -" he swallowed hard. "I think my father might kill me," he said quietly. "And I don't know what to do about it."

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating! Real life has been wild. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!