Autumn 1991

Ronald Weasley

Ron couldn't help but stare blankly at the canopy of his bed, the quiet rhythmic breathing of his roommates doing little to still his mind. Every time he dared to shut his eyes he was flooded with memories of the past week in vivid, almost maddening detail. He still had a number of dreamless sleep potions, the ones that Madam Pomfrey had provided for him and even the ones that Theo had stolen, but he couldn't will himself to take one. Instead, he let his mind flush with frustration and explore everything that had happened, trying to place events in order and figure out exactly what he should be doing.

He had done a fair job of pretending to be normal at dinner, or so he thought. Daphne had given him a rather strange look, but she was always the one who doubted him the most and he was almost certain she wouldn't look into his real thoughts any further. At least, not when all of his friends seemed to tiptoe around the fact that the twins had very obviously spread some rumour or another. The number of starers had increased greatly and many of them found not just his eyes but those of Blaise or even Theo. Which, perhaps unsurprisingly, Theo took in good nature.

Still, it made Ron nervous, he tried his best to shrink in on himself and not stand out as Sal had suggested. He couldn't stop himself from stealing worried glances at the professor's tables trying to see if anyone was watching him. Only once had he noticed anything unusual, catching Professor Snape staring at him with what seemed to be an intrigued look. The Professor seemed to notice his glance as he provided Ron with the subtle lift of an eyebrow before returning to his meal. Ron couldn't help but think that Snape wasn't the person he was hunting. At least, Snape had never seemed suspicious before. He was perhaps cruel and foreboding but Ron thought he was too likely to fit the bill of someone up to no good. After all, people with things to hide didn't wear them on their sleeves, or so Ron imagined. He tried his own best to hide everything he wanted to keep hidden, he couldn't imagine prancing about like Malfoy sneering at Gryffindors or any of that nonsense. So, he had decided that Snape was merely interested because it was his job, which Ron thought was nice enough. Despite what he thought of the man, he had to admit that Professor Snape, aprofessional piss drinker,had a soft spot for Slytherins. Hardly ever did he punish them, only issuing warnings or reminding them to act accordingly.

Ron had taken the time to scout the older students as well, finding some of them a little more interesting than others. The Slytherin quidditch captain, Marcus Flint, could have been the one who let the troll in if only based on looks alone. The boy was tall and had large muscular arms that no doubt came from many years of rigorous quidditch training and he had the sort of facial features that reminded Ron very vaguely as if someone had taken a troll and smashed it with a hammer. Ron had decided to include him in the list of suspects only because it was a relatively short list and Ron imagined that if Harry died, Slytherin would definitely win the quidditch cup. He wasn't sure if the quidditch cup would be worth the murder of a student, but he wouldn't put it past the captain who sometimes lingered around Malfoy.

Ron sighed, turned over in bed, and buried his face into his pillow. Nothing seemed to ease the knot in his chest that left him feeling as uncomfortable as always. With a small growl of frustration, he turned over again and swung his legs off the bed. Continuing to try and coax himself to sleep seemed pointless, he knew it would never come and he could nearly gag thinking about taking yet another potion. He needed to busy himself with something that could take his mind away from everything, and it seemed that the common room was as good a place as any. He would have liked to go to the library, but he didn't have the energy to avoid the prefects and Filch.

Ron threw a woollen sweater over his pyjama bottoms and crept past Blaise and Theo's beds. Both boys seemed to sleep soundly, Blaise breathing at a calm rhythmic pace while Theo drew in heavy breathes that were exhaled with a mild snore. Ron felt a little envious of his roommates, knowing that neither of them had large green serpents that haunted their dreams. Ron frowned, he did wonder if Theo had seen something similar before, after all, his father was a follower of you-know-who. Somewhat guilty, he wondered if he would have to kill Theo's father to save Charlie's life. There was no question in Ron's mind about what he would choose to do, but still, he felt sort of bad for the possibility.

Ron made his way through the dormitories and into the common room, most of the hearths still burned at their full brightness. The weather was colder and so the house elves must have taken to keeping the fires burning for the entire night, Ron reasoned. He would have liked to meet one of the Hogwarts house elves properly, just to understand everything they did for the school. He knew already that they took care of most of the cleaning, laundry, and cooking but he wondered if they had other duties. And, perhaps, if any of them had insight into who might have let the troll into the school.

Ron slipped into one of the chairs close to the nearest hearth and relished in the warmth of the flames and the light lingering smell of burning birch. He went over the suspects again in his head, starting with Marcus Flint and listing a few other shady looking older students. He had no way of knowing which one, if any, of them had committed to the troll attack. He would need to speak to Sal again about gathering evidence or something like that. He couldn't just accuse them, he would seem like a real loon, and he didn't really want to go about messing with someone who had tried to kill some students in the first place.

"Planning our next murder?" Malfoy's voice drew out from across the room. Ron took a sharp breath and steadied his hands against the armrests of the sofa chair.

Ron turned his head just enough to glance over his shoulder. His gaze locked to Malfoy and Goyle who lingered near the dormitory doorway, both dressed as if they had been drawn out of bed. Ron forced his expression in a way that he hoped passed for indifference.

"Malfoy," Ron said coolly, straightening in his seat. "It's late isn't it?"

Malfoy smirked and took a few steps closer. Goyle trailed behind him like a giant lumbering shadow.

"Not too late to ask why you're sulking about down here," Malfoy retorted, mockingly. "What's the matter, Weasley? Couldn't sleep with all that guilt weighing on your mind? Afraid you've angered some dumb troll's family?"

Ron turned his head back to face the fire, refusing to let Malfoy see his irritation. "Guilt about what?" Ron asked evenly. "Saving people?"

Malfoy snickered and earned a small huff from Goyle. "Trying to convince everyone you're some sort of hero? That's not a bad plan, Weasley, I actually would commend you on dealing with the troll. You're certainly not a squib like Longbottom."

Ron's jaw clenched. He wasn't trying to convince anyone that he was anything, and certainly not a thought that, right?

"Neville isn't a squib," Ron bit back. "Why are you talking to me Malfoy, hiding something? Why are you awake tonight? Worried someone might catch you doing something you shouldn't be?"

The two boys stepped around the chair to stand in front of the fire where Ron couldn't quite ignore them so easily.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Worried, Weasley? I asked you first, but since you're so desperate to know…" He leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "I'm keeping an eye on Theo. Seems he's developed some ridiculous notion that a bastard can cross me and walk away unscathed. Don't worry, he'll get what's coming to him soon enough. It's best if you keep clear of it. Funny, isn't it? The company a Weasley keeps these days?"

Malfoy laughed again and shifted his weight lazily. "But you're deflecting, Weasley. You still haven't answered my question, have you? What brings you down here in the middle of the night? Worried that someone is starting to ask therealquestions? Perhaps how a troll got into the castle in the first place?"

Ron's heart jumped into his the fuck do you mean?

"Relax," Draco shrugged, "I know you didn't do it. Although I wish you had, that would have been truly surprising. Saving people is all very noble, but who's to say the whole thing couldn't have just been some desperate attempt for attention? Convenient, wasn't it? That you justhappenedto be there? It would have been a good scheme, but I'm not stupid enough to think you could have found a troll by yourself and let him in. After all, you were at dinner on Hallowe'en." He cleared his throat. "Only someone else wasn't. A filthy little mudblood namedGranger."

"Careful," Ron warned him. He had already suspected that it was Malfoy who called her names and he was going to find a way to put a stop to it, permanently.

"You think she let the troll in? She is the smartest in our year, or so they say. Knew she was worthless and tried to get the troll to kill her before she had to endure more pointless years here in a society where she doesn't belong?" Malfoy shook his head. "Or maybe she invited the troll in to teach us all a lesson, Father says muggles are evil like that. Only she couldn't control it because, well, a mudblood doesn't command respect even from a beast."

"She was nearly killed," Ron hissed at him.

Malfoy frowned. "Yes, she was. It's unfortunate that you saved her. Remember, Weasley, what I said at the beginning of the year? About not being a disappointment? You're nearing the edge of my patience. And you will get what you deserve. You saved a filthy mudblood whore's life."

Ron's vision flashed red, before he could even think he had stood to his feet and pushed out a tightened fist. It was as if a blazing fire had been lit inside his chest. His hand collided with Malfoy's cheek in a sickening crunch, sending the boy spiralling off to one side a small flicker of blood leaving his pale lips. Malfoy crumpled against the armrest of another chair.

Ron stood frozen, his hand hanging in the air and trembling as he was shocked at what he had just done. His chest heaved heavily with the strength of the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. The entire room seemed to be filled with a bubbling electricity. Goyle stood still, wide-eyed and frozen, his eyes darting between Malfoy and Ron as if he were unsure of what to do.
Malfoy groaned, his eyes watering with pain as he clutched at his face. He sat up and glared at Ron with a completely hateful look. "You filthy blood-traitor!" he spat, his voice shaking and filled with a venom that Ron hadn't seen before. "Goyle, don't just stand there, break his legs!"

Goyle raised both of his fists and stepped forward, Ron flinched awaiting an impact only for the large boy to stumble as a wave of cool air rushed in from across the room and strangled the fire in the hearth.

"Lower your hand, Mr. Goyle, or I will lower it for you," Snape's voice cut through the room as the Professor appeared from the common room entrance, his wand raised in his hand.

couldn't imagine anyone worse walking into the room.

Malfoy seemed to snap to his feet as if he was a soldier suddenly called to attention. Ron took a few heavy deep breaths as he lowered his own arms to his side. He could still not believe what he had just done. He had wanted to end things with Malfoy and, no doubt, had only managed to make things worse. At least, he thought through his mangle of thoughts, he had done what Sal suggested. He had really thrown himself into the middle of petty house problems.

"Professor," Malfoy gawked, "You're just in time to stop Weasley from attacking us again, I mean, look at him! He just flew into some kind of rage!"

Ron shifted his eyes to the floor in front of him. He couldn't help but imagine the disappointed look on Percy's face when he found out that he got in trouble for punching another student. He felt sick as if he was about to let his stomach out over the floor. Bitterly, he imagined how the twins might shift the event to make him look even more terrible.

Snape glanced at Goyle, who, still startled, quickly nodded in agreement.

"To bed, all of you," Snape said sternly. "And Weasley, report to me before breakfast tomorrow. I will not tolerate brutish violence."

Ron hung his head, barely paying mind to the way Malfoy smirked smugly.
A/N - Only one chapter today, I fell a bit behind! My apologies! I appreciate anyone who reads my work 3.