Chapter Eighteen: Spinner's End

Ron felt a worn-down couch beneath him, someone poured a warm peppery liquid into his mouth. Ron sputtered, shooting up in his seat. He was in a small and sorely neglected living room. It wasn't dirty by any means, but the chairs and bookcases around the room all looked worn like they'd been there for over twenty years. Crouched next to him was the very last person Ron expected to see. Draco Malfoy set the pepper-up potion on a side-table, he avoided looking at Ron directly. Sitting cross-legged in an armchair next to the couch, Hermione smiled up at him.

"Hey," she said awkwardly.

It felt like someone chipping away at Ron's soul, he wanted nothing more than to see his friends. And yet any time he finally managed to find one of them, they were a stranger. Ron felt his face burn red. From the other room he could hear several adult voices arguing. Malfoy tried to grab Ron's arm to stop him, but Ron pushed past him.

"I don't care what you think, Snivellus." James's voice was laced with venom. "I'm going, and I'm going now. If he's so much as laid a fucking hand on my son again, I'm going to dash him into a million pieces. I don't care what the prophecy says—"

"You haven't changed, Potter. The ministry is completely locked down, you'd just be earning him a front row seat to your execution." Ron felt ice run in his blood at the all-too familiar voice of Professor Snape.

"So, what? You expect us to just leave him there?" James's voice rose.

"Prongs—" Ron heard Lupin try to interject.

"For the time being, yes." Snape said, and Ron heard the shuffle of paper. "Harry and I both understood the risks involved with Regulus's plan. Although I could not have foreseen the lengths he was willing to go—"

"Oh, come on, none of us would have thought Regulus'd be okay with killing a kid." Sirius's fist slammed on the table.

"Then you severely underestimated your brother's lot in life." Snape's voice steadily got quieter; Ron'd never heard anything like remorse in his voice. "I meant Harry, he did not tell me about the seventh piece. It would have changed my interpretation of the prophecy. Although I doubt he could have ... Never-the-less its clear the Dark Lord holds me responsible for what happened tonight instead."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Meaning that I have been summoned twenty times now in as many minutes!" Snape hissed back. "The dark mark calls me to Voldemort, but I will not go to my own execution. I will not allow—"

"SO YOU COULD GO GET HARRY?" James shouted.

"WHO do you think my executioner would be?!" Ron heard the scrape of a chair as Snape got to his feet. "Voldemort will not kill the boy, not with so few pieces other pieces to tether his soul. If what you say is true, he will trust in the prophecy's paradox instead." There was a pause, and Ron heard the clink of a bottle hit the table.

"How do we know he won't just make more horcruxes?" Lupin asked.

"The soul is not infinite," Snape said. "Splitting it seven times has rendered the Dark Lord less than human. He still looks and sounds like himself, but there are signs, there are whispers of his true nature."

Ron could hear the piercing laughter in his head again, he could see those vivid red eyes. Every time he'd felt watched when he'd been alone with Harry at Hogwarts, it'd been Riddle. Riddle'd already won, long before any of them knew what game they were playing. Ron slumped against the wall, the sound carried through the quiet house. All four men at the table went silent.

"Ron?" Lupin's voice carried into the hall. "Are you up?"

Ron felt a lump growing in his throat, he wished for nothing more than to blend in with the wallpaper in the hallway. He closed his eyes, willing himself to get up and face them. It was his fault, he shouldn't have gone to Diagon Alley. Maybe if he did, none of this would have happened. The three surviving marauders sat at a round kitchen table with Snape. James immediately looked away from Ron, and Ron saw that his eyes were puffy and red. Lupin was resting his head on Sirius's shoulder, both trying to smile through their weariness. Snape sat hunched over something that looked like the floor plan of a building.

"Hey mate," Sirius's voice cracked. "We were wondering when you'd get up."

"That was a very brave thing you did, Ron." Lupin nodded. "None of us wouldn't be here today without you."

"What?" Ron felt confused. It'd been his fault they were there …

"The portkey," Sirius held up a small sickle that'd been sitting on the table. "You saved our lives tonight." Ron noticed James was very quiet, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table. He still refused to look at Ron, and Ron understood. He'd meant to die there to defend his family.

"Don't say that." Ron felt his body shaking uncontrollably.

He could still feel Nagini's blood on his socks, still see the manic look on Harry's face as he prepared to curse Ron. He'd had enough, he'd seen enough. Ron felt like a snake was constricting its way around his chest for the second time that day, making it impossible to breathe. He was never going to see his real friends or family again.

"How come the Death Eaters don't know we're here?" Ron asked, his eyes darting around to each of the windows in the kitchen, he half expected to see Riddle pressing his nose against the glass. It was still night.

"We couldn't risk the Dark Lord discovering the safe house." Snape nodded by way of greeting to Ron, it was the closest thing to kindness the professor had ever shown him. "I created the original portkey, but Harry was able to enchant a duplicate spell to take the bearer of the second coin to the same location without knowing where it was. We are at my old home in Spinner's End. I believe he got the idea from an old device called a deluminator …"

"You have Dumbledore's things?!" Sirius looked up.

"The Dark Lord does, yes." Snape began to roll up the building plans. "Although I am surprised that Harry gave you the coin willingly, he must think highly of you." It was a compliment, but it felt like a slap to the face to Ron. He'd been there, he'd seen those interrogation rooms. Sirius conjured a chair for Ron to sit in.

"Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger," Snape called into the other room. "If you insist on snooping, you may very well just join us."

Ron heard the slow shuffle of feet, and Draco Malfoy slumped into a chair next to him. Hermione leaned on the threshold. Ron felt Malfoy's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. It seemed like another lifetime ago that he'd almost run into Malfoy in Diagon Alley.

"You don't have a plan." Malfoy pointed out bluntly.

Ron thought absurdly of the chessboard, how Riddle moved the pieces effortlessly. He hadn't realized it during the game, but the reason he couldn't figure out his opponent's strategy was because there was none. Riddle was just randomly moving pieces, and relying on skill to cover up his mistakes.

"Bill," Ron said, vacantly staring over at James. James looked at Ron like he'd grown a second head.

"You're losing it too." James's eyes went wide.

"No, my brother Bill!" Ron felt his heart tapping traitorously in spite of the events of the night. "He's a curse breaker where I'm from. He might know how to fix this."

"Mr. Weasley, we are operating far beyond the standard laws of nature." Snape closed his eyes, like he was trying very hard to control his temper. "A normal horcrux is difficult enough to create, and Voldemort managed to make two inside living vessels—"

"Then we'll find the diadem first." Ron's voice cracked. "There has to be a way to reverse it." He needed that to be true.

Sirius clapped his hand on Ron's back.

"That's the best idea we've got right now," he said grimly.

"But that's not a plan!" Malfoy shouted, standing up. "You don't have the diadem, it could be anywhere by now if one of your filthy friends back at Hogwarts sold it."

"We'll start with Moody then," Sirius suggested. "He's got a group out in Surrey."

"What's to stop me from just turning you in?" Malfoy asked coldly, looking back at Snape. "I'm sure the Dark Lord would be happy to have you killed, happy enough to spare us—"

"The Dark Lord has no mercy," Snape said. "He will kill you simply to make a point to Harry, he knows how much you mean to each other ..." Ron saw Malfoy flush pink, he sat back down in his chair.

"I don't think we're going to make any decisions tonight." Lupin sighed, leaning into Sirius. "I'm so sorry, James, but we've got no higher up spies left in place. I don't think we'll know anything right away …"

James nodded dully, his jaw was shaking so badly Ron thought he might bite through his tongue. He looked away from James, a lump forming in his throat. Snape nodded in agreement with Lupin. Ron felt his legs protest as he stood up, he was so exhausted he could fall asleep standing …

"I suggest that the three of you sleep in the living room, in case Potter feels the urge to take a midnight walk to Little Hangleton. Weasley can room with Malfoy, and Granger can stay with Lily." Snape looked up at James, considering for a moment if he wanted to say more. "You owe her an apology for earlier," he said stiffly.

James stopped at the threshold. Ron didn't know what they were talking about.

"I don't think that's any of your business." James's voice shook in anger.

"I only—"

"You only made her trade our child's soul." James hissed, and Ron thought of Harry, it was uncanny how similar the two of them looked when they were mad. "You ruined his life and took any chance she or I had to be there for him. I won't forget that."

"I—James wait—" Snape tried to stop him but James stormed into the other room. Snape sighed in exasperation.

"Mr. Malfoy please show our guests upstairs, Andromeda and Narcissa will arrive in the morning. Can you handle Potter?" Snape looked over to Lupin. Lupin closed his eyes and nodded, there were dark bags under his eyes. "Good, now I was wondering if you'd held on to a certain item from Dumbledore …"

Ron left the three men sitting at the table, he numbly followed Malfoy upstairs. James was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, Ron could see his chest moving quickly, as if he was trying not to cry. He wanted to comfort James, but he didn't know if he should push it. He'd been the one to activate the portkey after all ...

"Bathroom is on the left, use the blue knob if you want hot water," Malfoy said tonelessly as they made their way up the cramped stairs. Ron hadn't realized how big Number Twelve Grimmauld place was for a townhome.

"You're in here Granger," Malfoy nodded to a door on the right, across from the bathroom. On the other side of the door Ron could hear a woman sobbing profusely. He'd only briefly met Lily, but he was sure she felt just as terrible as James did.

"I might just sleep downstairs," Hermione bit her lip. "I don't want to bother her."

"Whatever," Malfoy said, unconcerned. "We're in here."

Malfoy opened the door beside Lily's room, to reveal a cramped bedroom, barely wide enough to fit two twin beds on opposite sides of the wall. There were two knapsacks on either bed, and a snow-white owl sleeping with her head tucked beneath her wing. Ron felt like he couldn't breathe, he felt bad enough already. But seeing Harry's things there, it was like he'd died.

"Do you," Ron's voice cracked as he spoke to Malfoy. "Do you have a spare set of pajamas? I left everything back at Regulus's."

"Just borrow some," Malfoy snapped, sitting down on the opposite bed. "And take a shower, you look like hell."

Ron was sure that was true. He felt sick to his stomach going through Harry's things, and was almost positive none of it would fit him anyways. The knapsack looked like it'd been packed by someone in a rush, Ron nearly cut his hand open again on an unsheathed knife shoved hastily in the side, but he eventually found a comfortable shirt and sweatpants stuffed in the bottom. He'd ask Sirius to help heal where Nagini cut him in the morning, he didn't want to face James again downstairs.

In the hallway he ran headfirst into Lily. Her face was streaked with tears and Ron noticed that she was shaking. She reached out to take his injured hand, placing her wand over top of it, and Ron felt the cut on his palm itch as it healed itself. Lily waved her wand a second time, and Ron felt the clothes in his hands shift, they'd gotten larger. Lily hurried away before he could thank her.

The shower did nothing to make Ron feel less numb, he didn't even bother to look at himself in the foggy bathroom mirror. Back in the room, Malfoy had already gotten into bed. He was facing towards the wall so Ron couldn't tell if he was pretending to sleep. Hermione had set out a pillow and blanket on the floor between the two beds.

"They're still having a row," she offered reluctantly.

"You take the bed," Ron moved the knapsack off of the twin bed. He was too tired to argue. "I'll kip out on the floor."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, she hadn't expected this. "I—thanks, Ron—"

"Mhm," Ron grunted. The pillow was warm beneath his head, and the room dark and cozy. But all he could think about was the loud hum of electric lights in the ministry's interrogation rooms, as the events of the night raced through his head once again.

James could still see those vivid red eyes each time he closed his own. Remus and Sirius were busy setting up the pull-out sofa in the living room. He quietly climbed up the stairs to the second floor. He opened the second door on the right to the boys' room, just a crack. Ron was sprawled out on the floor in between the two beds, and Sirius's nephew was curled up against the wall in his bed. The only one still awake was Hermione, large brown eyes blinked at the sudden light from the hallway. She smiled kindly at him, which James reluctantly returned before closing the door. They were safe at least, he couldn't stomach passing on the agony he felt to another parent.

He took a deep breath before knocking on the door to Lily's room. "Come in," she sounded dead inside.

James opened the door to find Lily sitting at the foot of her bed, Crookshanks sat behind her, his paws tucked seamlessly beneath his massive frame. For a moment, James was reminded of Petunia's ex-husband. Lily was working furiously on a small golden necklace, James heard it crack in her hand and a small trickle of sand dropped into her lap. Tears brimmed in Lily's eyes again as she dropped the broken time turner.

"What are you doing?" James asked, taking a seat at the foot of the bed next to her.

"I grabbed one while we were running," Lily closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. "But it broke in the fight. I'd give anything to—" Her face screwed up in pain. "Did you see the way he looked at us?"

James put his arm around her. He'd been so close, he should have just taken the boys and run, to hell with Regulus's plan. He would have figured something out, he knew something was wrong the moment Regulus destroyed the diary. James felt a lump forming in his throat, he'd give anything to take Harry's place. And he knew Lily would do the same in a heartbeat.

"This is what Riddle is best at," he said. "He makes people feel alone, like they have no choice."

"You were right, I have no business being a mother …"

"I shouldn't have spoken to you like that." He'd been furious when they arrived, not just with Lily, but with everyone. She just happened to be the person he saw first, the one most acquainted with the anguish he felt.

James heard a soft knock at the door, Lily flicked her wand to open it. Snape stood in the hallway, clutching a small handheld mirror that James immediately recognized as the one he and Sirius used to contact Regulus when he was a spy for the Order. Hatred pulsed through James's heart at the thought, all those years Regulus had lied to him. And now, James placed everything on the line to hunt the horcruxes; all the while Regulus had been plotting to goad Riddle into murdering Harry.

"I reconnected it to Dumbledore's mirror," Snape held it out for one of them to take. "I don't know if it'll work—but—I thought you might like to have it."

"For what?" James looked up to Snape in confusion. They'd disconnected it after Dumbledore was executed, they didn't want the Death Eaters to try spying through the mirror if they'd found it.

"Well, Albus certainly didn't hold onto it before he died." Snape explained, once he realized neither of them were going to take it, he set it on the bed beside the cat. "He made his only visitor request two days before his execution was set to take place and—"

James snatched the mirror off the bed, his heart pounding. He tried not to focus too much on his own reflection in the mirror, he looked as broken as he felt on the inside. Lily looked in beside him, green eyes searching the mirror in desperation.

"Albus Dumbledore," James said clearly, he felt the reflection in the mirror shift to match its duplicate. It was as if someone had punched out all the glass, the mirror was entirely black except for a small space in the middle of the frame. Here the darkness was different, it seemed more like a small fragment of the mirror was tucked inside a dark box.

"Harry?" Lily asked quietly, pressing her ear up to the mirror to see if she could hear anything.

"I wouldn't expect to hear anything right away. For all I know, he threw it out years ago. I'm—" Snape backed away from the two of them, trying hard to avoid eye contact. "Sleep well." Without another word he swept out of the room. James and Lily clutched tightly to the mirror, listening quietly for any sign that someone could hear them on the other side.

In the other room, Ron's dreams were crowded with snakes.

Yellow, red, and green serpents whispered things in his ears, he couldn't tell where one ended and the others began. He tossed over in his sleep. If he'd only known how to project his mind from his body, he would have seen James and Lily clutched together in the other room. Or Sirius curled up in his dog form over Lupin's stomach, each happy to embrace each other for the night. He would have seen a potions master, searching the London skyline for stars.

Miles and miles from where Ron slept, he would have seen Harry in his room, trying not to cry out in pain as he submerged the burn on his left arm into a shallow saucer of murlap essence. Even further, he would have seen the former auror Alastor Moody carefully lock the door to a bedroom in the safe house in Surrey, as the demented voice of a woman cackled on the other side.

A/N: Happy 40k+ words *ugly sobbing* also I'm so grateful for your support! Thanks for reading.