Fate

by TheTrueSpartan

When Ron discovers that he can see the future, his entire fate is thrown off of its course. A story about adventure, friendship, growing up, and pushing forward through hardships. This story will get darker as it progresses, just like the original Harry Potter novels. It will cover all Seven Years of Hogwarts, but mostly from Ron's perspective. No Mary Sues, no Character bashing.

162. Chapter 162 - Addiction

Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not intend to make any money off of this. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling , and I take no credit of it whatsoever.

I was also inspired by Demon Eyes Laharl's: THE RED KNIGHT! and also from Random-Fruitcake04's: CHOICES! I hope you check them out as well because they are genuinely very good stories.

There's also a few more Ron fics out there that are on point! They're called 'There and Back Again' by Chuchi Otaku, 'Stay Standing' by Windschild8178, 'Scala ad Caelum' by GRND (criminally underated story, so go give it some love), and 'Cooking Like a Bachelor' by Avatar Vader. Please, go check 'em out! You won't regret it, spread the Ron love, people!

P.S: Starway Man is a chad! (I'm never removing this)

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Fate

Chapter 162 – Addiction

The Champion's POV

Sunday 6th June, 1994 (The Old Courtyard – Near Midnight)

He stared up at the antique clock with the clear glass dial, it was nearly the hour of the bat. The prefects had all gone to bed, as had the staff, but the Champion roamed Hogwarts still, hungry for vengeance. Oh, how patient he had been throughout the day, how calmly he had addressed his House to show them that he remained unfazed, but now, he could finally remove the mask of deception. He was not patient, he was not calm, and tonight, Peeves the Poltergeist would meet his end. Onwards, towards righteous revenge.

The Champion moved like a shadow towards the Old Clocktower, soundless and ethereal, the darkness of the night cloaking him with its cold embrace. He could sense his ghostly prey on the highest level of the ancient structure, where Dumbledore had trapped the fool, making the Champion's hunt far more expedient but a lot less thrilling. Still, the climax held boundless promise, and the closer he got to his latest victim, the more his heart ached with anticipation. It's been so long, but, at last, We will once again exercise Our divine right to decide who lives and who dies! There is nothing more euphoric, more intoxicating, than true power unshackled!

Whistling Pandora's tune, he made his way up the wooden stairs, polishing and sharpening his ravenous claws on the railing as he went, until he finally reached the landing on the fourth floor. With the clockface to his right, the Champion prowled forth through the moonlight, his eyes becoming crimson and toad-like. One more level, and the scales will be balanced. None will know what truly transpired here tonight, but they will ponder in their quietest moments, and soon after, they will fear the one whom Peeves challenged last. This is Our playground, now, and We've never been fond of shari-…

A flash of bright orange light exploded behind him, and the Champion's thoughts, as well as his stride, came to a sudden halt. Well, well, well… It seems that We've been outfoxed.

"I want to say that I'm surprised to find you here so late, but that would be a lie," came Dumbledore's voice, cold as ice and blunt as a hammer. "The truth is that I'm more surprised by you managing to wait an entire day before seeking retribution."

"You told me where he was on purpose, didn't you?" the Champion chuckled, shaking his head to himself. Careless and stupid. "You'll have to teach me the Ward that alerted you."

"Teach who, exactly?" Dumbledore asked, taking a step forward. "Am I speaking to my dearest friend, Ronald Weasley? Or, the monstrous beast that resides within him?"

"Both," the Champion turned around, a sinister sneer creeping onto his face. "You're so very clever, aren't you?"

"Cleverer than you by far," Dumbledore gave a curt nod, and Fawkes shrieked in agreement from atop his shoulder.

The two wizards stood motionless on the opposite ends of the landing; their true natures illuminated by the moonlight shining through the glass dial. A hardened war-veteran, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, standing defiantly before a wrathful Demi-God, the only hope against a future devoid of life. A pair of unlikely friends finding themselves at odds, and not for the first time, either.

"So, what now?" the Champion broke the silence, his voice making the wood and stone groan in agony.

"Well, for starters, stop using that voice," Dumbledore ordered. "I'm an old man, and I need my sleep more than most." Fair enough.

"We both know you don't sleep all that much," the Champion pointed out, his eyes turning blue. "Why are you here, old man? Are you here to fight Us? To save that pesky Poltergeist?"

"I came to stop my friend from making a mistake he'd later regret," Dumbledore replied, taking another step forward. "I won't fight him, he's still a century short of challenging me, nor will I stand in his path, for that will only tempt him further. No… I will simply remind him that his anger has cost him a great deal, already, and that if he doesn't stop, it'll cost him my love and respect, as well." Why are We not surprised?!

The Champion grit his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. "Why do you always take everyone else's side?! Why are We always forced to be the bigger person?! You are an unfair, manipulative cunt!"

"And you are a petty, vicious, cruel boy!" Dumbledore roared back, making the Champion flinch from surprise. "Arthur. Molly. Pandora. Xenophilius. Sebastian. Mary. Remus. Sirius. William-"

"What are you doing?" the Champion cut in, the shock of hearing the old wizard raise his voice wearing off. "Why are you saying those names?"

"They are the names of those who don't love you as they once did," Dumbledore answered, causing a knot to form in the Champion's gut. "Your anger drove them away from you, because it runs so hot that it burns everything it touches. Just look at yourself… Look at what you're turning into. You think murder is the appropriate response to a joke gone too far? Will the twins be next, then? Shall I send them away from Hogwarts for their safety? Shall I warn them that their brother plans to hunt them down like deer?"

"…They came after Us, first," the Champion whispered, the knot getting tighter. "We've spent Our entire life being tormented by them, being humiliated by them, being hurt by them… Why can't it be their turn for once? Why is it always Ours? It's not fair…"

"When has your life ever been fair?" Dumbledore asked frankly, there was a callousness about him tonight that made the Champion wary. "The twins, and Peeves, are the least of your problems, and yet, here you are… Lurking in the shadows with vile intentions. I see no desire for fairness in your eyes, only a desire to cause pain. You don't care about the consequences, you don't even care about losing your brothers over this, because your anger is blinding you to all reason." His expression then softened, his eyes pleading. "I know how liberating it is to give into anger, to let it take control just so you can take a breather, but it'll use everything you love as kindling. I know how hard you've been working to stay in control. Don't let your brothers rob you of that. You're so much stronger than this."

He shifted in his spot, his gloved hand pulling harshly on the hair on the back of his head. Doubt was starting to creep in, making him question his plan and motives. What exactly was he trying to achieve here? Did he want spread terror across Hogwarts? Did he want the twins to stop their pranks out of fear of him? Or, was he simply looking for a fight, and Peeves just happened to be the sorry bastard who'd pushed him too far? Dumbledore wasn't wrong, he'd been trying so very hard to stay in control, and if he let the twins steal that from him, he'd come to regret it. Pandora, Lord Greengrass, mum, dad, Xeno, Mary, Madam Pomfrey, Bill, Charlie, Millie, Carey, Clara, Samantha, Octavia… Half of Hogwarts… My anger has tainted so many of my relationships this year. There's no use in denying it. Some I'm better off without, but others… Others still hurt to think about. And I've tried to stop myself from repeating the same mistakes, but it's just so fucking hard. I keep failing over and over-…

"He's making you question yourself, again," Ravenclaw Ron suddenly whispered in his ear, causing him to let out an exasperated groan. "He's forcing you to put yourself last, and for who? A miscreant ghost that's haunted this castle for a thousand years? A pair of bullies who have mistreated you since you were old enough to start waddling about? If you spare them, they'll only become emboldened, as will others who wish to defy you. You saw them all, didn't you? Laughing at you? Mocking you? What's the point of being so powerful if even the feeblest can spit in your face and get away with it?"

He looked back, studying his counterpart's grim face. He's not wrong, either. What Peeves did makes me look weak, and if I let him get away with it, it'll keep happening. Even a sheep can kill a wolf if the wolf won't fight back. But what is the wolf fighting for? Survival? Domination? Pride? All three? What forced him to drag his mother and a pregnant woman through the streets, berating and humiliating them at every step? What forced him to throw a young woman off of a cliff over a simple dispute? What forced him to cut ties with people he'd grown to love and cherish without ever looking back? What forced him to push his own friends away when their only crime was to act their age? What forced him to pursue the subjugation of those who harboured different beliefs from himself? What forced him to seek the deaths of his enemies? What forced him to enjoy said deaths unlike anything else this world had to offer?

He knew the answer, and even though it shamed him, he wasn't going to lie to himself. He enjoyed hurting other people, and he no longer killed because he had to, but rather, because he found pleasure in the act. It made him feel powerful, it made him feel in control, and he was at his most comfortable whenever Death had its cold hands resting on his shoulders. Violence had become an addiction, no different from the Calming Draughts he still craved, and sooner rather than later, this addiction would destroy everyone and everything around him. Fate, and the Entity, had succeeded in turning him into a weapon; their most ruthless instrument. …Their Champion… That is who I am, for better or worse…

"It doesn't have to be this way," Dumbledore suddenly said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"It does, and you know it," Ravenclaw Ron swiftly countered. "He's right upstairs, mate. Trapped in a Magical bubble. He doesn't even know you're down here. Just a couple of minutes of your time, and you'll never have to worry about him, or the twins, crossing you ever again." A couple of minutes, eh? That's not true. The price will be far higher than that.

Once again, he took the time to study the wizard before him, weathered but still fighting, and then, he studied the ghost of a failed Cycle behind him, ancient but still juvenile. They both want me to be someone I can't be. I will never be a good man, because it's too late for that, but I still have the chance to not let my hate and anger devour me. I can take control, right here and now, and stop myself from committing the same mistake for the umpteenth time. Not for Peeves, not for the twins, not even to defy Fate and the Entity, but for myself. Just as the Calming Draughts were hurting me, the endless yearning to lash out at this unjust world is no different. Addiction is weakness, and I refuse to be weak. I've worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to let such a thing destroy me. I am the master of my own fate, and the fate of all others. I am in control. This petty demand for vengeance, this pathetic dream of the twins getting their just desserts… It's all beneath me, but only if I walk away right now. If I give in, then I'm just like the twins, and all the other cunts I despise from the bottom of my heart.

His decision made, he confidently crossed the landing with a resolute expression, even as his heart sank from sheer disappointment. Just walk away. Don't let this small shit distract you from your real purpose. This world needs a saviour, not a petty, vicious, cruel boy.

"You've made the right decision, Ronald," Dumbledore commended as he passed by, beaming. I've made a decision… Whether it's right or not, that remains to be seen. Oh, and don't get all chummy with me just because you think you got your way. You're just like Fate, and the scores of people who want to control me. Well, fuck the lot of you. I'm doing this for myself, and myself alone.

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Albus Dumbledore's POV

Monday 7th June, 1994 (The Headmaster's Office – Early Morning)

"Could he have done it?" Severus asked, his mask of indifference hiding his natural curiosity well. "Could he really have destroyed Peeves?"

"With Ronald, I've learned that nothing is impossible," Albus answered, stroking his beard. "Those claws of his… They come from the Entity, which, according to Ronald himself, is the end of all things." Better to be safe than sorry, as they say.

"The wounds on his arm are rather unnatural, unlike anything I've ever seen," Severus agreed, his lips thinning into a frown. "You should've let him go through with it."

"To sate your curiosity?" Albus asked.

"Yes, but also because Peeves deserves it. For a thousand years, he's terrorised this school and everyone in it. We would be better off without him."

"He is a part of Hogwarts, Severus, and to destroy him would be no different from destroying an entire wing."

"We could do with less of those, as well."

Albus chuckled, as those very wings might one day serve to shelter people from the war. "Alas, it is too late to sate your curiosity, I'm afraid. Ronald proved himself better than his baser nature. I will endeavour to keep Peeves far from him in the future, as to not let temptation overwhelm him." In his shoes, at his age, I don't think I could've stomached such humiliation. I know he is angry with me for stepping between him and Peeves, and for my harsh tone, but I hope he knows how proud I am of him for walking away.

"And his brothers? Don't forget, they were behind this entire mess."

"…Yes, they were, weren't they?" Albus lost his mirth, he could not allow a pair of unruly teenagers to push Ronald further into madness. "This will be their final prank on him, of that you can be certain."

"I've heard this before," Severus drawled, unimpressed.

"Do you have something on your mind? Something that you are not sharing?"

The Potion Master sneered, his black eye becoming narrowed and cruel. "You play favourites too often whenever Gryffindor is involved." He will never forgive me for sparing Sirius, will he? What was I to do? Expel him in the middle of a war? Despite knowing that the Death-Eaters had already branded him a Blood-Traitor? "Ron only showed mercy to keep them where he could easily reach them, but you've talked him down, so they just get to escape proper punishment, don't they? And don't even pretend like you didn't come up with this plan the moment Ron tried his little act on us. We both knew what he was playing at, and you used that to protect those degenerates from a rightful suspension."

"They have their O. W. Ls this year, Severus," Albus sighed out, much to his friend's chagrin. "Children make foolish mistakes; we are both quite aware of that given our own histories. What Ronald attempted last night would have also been a childish mistake, and I was there to protect him, wasn't I? The twins will be punished by Minerva, whereas I will speak to their parents directly, but what I will not do is hurt their futures over an issue that can easily be resolved with words alone." Imagine if they had taken a similar approach. You would not be here now to chastise me. "Severus, don't mistake my compassion for weakness. It is that very compassion that has allowed you to remain within this castle over the years, despite your abhorrent behaviour towards anyone who isn't a Slytherin."

The man in black leaned back in his chair, his gaze becoming less hostile. "Your compassion, certainly, and the fact that I've given you far more than you've given me."

"That too," Albus gave a nod, smiling once again. "You have sacrificed much in your service to me, and I will always be grateful to you, but Ronald needs us both to put aside our bickering for his sake. I did not stop him from retaliating because I favour the Gryffindors, but rather, because I favour him. He is my friend, and I know you feel the same way about him. And, sometimes, friends have to stand against you to protect you from yourself." If not for Aberforth, I would have left with Gellert and plunged this world into chaos. He always was a better brother than I deserved, and much like Ronald with me, I often hated him for it. "Tell me, which values do you wish to impart on young Draco? Will you teach him to seek vengeance over every slight, just as you did at his age? Or, will you instead teach him to master himself and his ego? What kind of man do you want him to be?" If our children repeat our mistakes, then that speaks more about our failures than theirs.

"What does he have to do with this discussion?" Severus whispered coldly.

"You are his guardian, now," Albus responded sagely. "He is a perceptive boy, and he idealizes you. Does that sound like someone else you know?" The Potion Master continued to stare at him, though his gaze grew more and more distant. "Ronald's anger with me could not have been clearer last night, but I do not regret my decision, because I made sure that Ronald left that tower without adding to his own regrets. You will face such decisions yourself now that Draco will be living with you, my friend, and it will be up to you to shape him into a man you can both be proud of. It is a heavy burden, but you chose it, and now, you have no choice but to grow past your self-loathing and bitterness. You refused to do it all these years for yourself, but you will do it for him. And for Ronald, because he too deserves to learn from our mistakes."

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Blaise Zabini's POV

Monday 7th June, 1994 (The Great Hall – Breakfast)

"…It's over…" Pansy broke the silence, causing them all to look up from their textbooks. "I'm going to fail Transfiguration."

"You'll be fine," Blaise rolled his eyes, returning to his revision. I can't believe Professor Babbling expects us to memorize all these Runes and their meanings. Still, we should be grateful to Ron for securing those notes from the Triumvirate at the start of the year. They give a good idea of what to expect in-…

"Look at all of us," Pansy spoke, again. "Noses buried in our books during breakfast… Exams are so stupid! They're needlessly stressful, and at the end of it all, it's just to see which of the students have the better memory! It has nothing to do with-!"

"Pansy, I will murder you," Theo looked up from his Arithmancy notes, causing the raven-haired witch to raise her hands in surrender. "You only have two exams, today. Transfiguration and Charms, that's it. I have three! Three! Stop distracting me."

"…Sorry," Pansy muttered, exchanging a glance with Daphne. "Um… Ron's not here, Daph." His curtains were still drawn when we left.

"What do you want me to do about that, exactly?" Daphne asked, there was a tinge of ice in her tone. "He probably doesn't feel safe in the Great Hall after what his horrible brothers put him through. Honestly, the stories I could tell you about them… Despicable dogs, the pair of them. They've been making his life miserable for years, now." She then drew in a sharp breath. "Anyone else here believe that Ron's just going to let this go?"

"No," Blaise answered curtly.

"Nah," Theo added.

"Probably not, no," Pansy whispered under her breath.

"Since when does he let things go?" Malfoy was the last to give his thoughts.

"I just hope he waits until our exams are over," Daphne sighed out, returning her gaze to her Charms textbook. "…Blaise, did you check on him this morning?"

"Well done, Pansy, well done," Blaise looked up, again, shaking his head at the girl disapprovingly. "And, no, I didn't check on him. His curtains were drawn, and you girls might not know this, but he places Shocking Wards on them to keep intruders out." I almost lost my fingers to them once! "Worry less about him, and more about yourselves. He won't miss the exams just because he's in a foul mood."

The others nodded in response, returning to their revision, but the quiet only lasted a few seconds before startled gasps and hushed whispers broke out throughout the Great Hall. See? He's here, and, as usual, he likes to make an entrance. Blaise, and the others, looked up from their books and towards the entrance, only to join in on the collective shock spreading throughout the hall like wildfire. It was not Ron who stood before the student-body, but rather, someone no had expected to see within Hogwarts for the foreseeable future. Tracey?! It can't be! What's she doing here?! The brunette was dressed in Muggle attire, a pink turtleneck sweater and bright blue jeans, and was using a pair of crutches to keep herself upright. Theo, Daphne, and Pansy shot up to their feet, both out of excitement and a need to get a better view, and when Tracey saw them, she grinned enthusiastically. Blaise felt all of his stress over the exams, and his future, wash away in that moment, as if he'd been pulled back to a time before this accursed year. My eyes aren't fooling me, she's really here.

Tracey began making her way towards them, only to come to an abrupt stop when applause rang out from the Professors' table. All of them, save for Professor Snape, eagerly welcomed her back with wide smiles and loud claps, and soon enough, the entire hall had joined them, including Blaise. The skinny girl flushed red, though the grin on her face only grew wider by the second, until it became outlandishly comical and she bowed theatrically, causing a wave of laughter to erupt. Blaise couldn't help but laugh as well, relieved that her terrible injury had done little to dampen her buoyant spirit. With renewed energy, Tracey continued towards them, being fondly received by every Slytherin along the way, which involved getting pulled into a hug by Astoria that lasted long enough to make Daphne huff impatiently.

"…Good morning, you lot," Tracey rasped upon reaching them, coming to a stop behind Daphne and Pansy, both of them swiftly separating and helping her settle in-between them.

"I can't believe you're here!" Pansy had her arms wrapped around Tracey before any of them could even return the greeting.

"Me neither," Daphne smiled lovingly, taking Tracey's hand in hers under the table. "You always did love taking people by surprise, though, didn't you?"

"…Guilty," Tracey beamed and kissed Daphne on the cheek, after which she turned her focus onto the boys. "Well? Shower me with… your love… No need to hold it in…"

Her juvenile choice of words got a snigger out of Theo, and an amused grunt out of Blaise and Malfoy. I'll go first, then. "It's great to see you, again, Trace. Hogwarts wasn't the same without you."

Tracey gave an approving nod, as if accepting his tribute, before looking towards Theo and Malfoy expectantly. Malfoy shifted in his spot, no doubt trying to think of something appropriate, but also unsociable, to say, whereas Theo just smiled at her like an idiot. Go on. Start gushing, already. We all know you want to.

"You um… You should've written to me about coming back," Theo started, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "I'd have-… I mean, we would have prepared a welcome back party, or something… With balloons and stuff…" Balloons?

Pansy barely stifled a laugh, whereas Daphne and Blaise exchanged knowing, and thoroughly amused, glances. It's a rare treat to see him fumble his words this badly.

"I do love balloons," Tracey shot the weedy boy a saucy wink, making him fidget in his spot. "Now, Draco… It's your turn."

"You're looking better than you did at St. Mungo's," Malfoy said, giving a curt nod. You mean after she woke up from a damn coma? Is your brain the size of a peanut?

"Really? That's your best?" Pansy gave him a dull look, which Daphne mirrored.

"He's not wrong, though," Tracey sniggered, running the back of her fingers across her cheek. "I've been… using a new… moisturizer, and it's doing… wonders for me."

"I meant that you've put on some weight," Malfoy tried to elaborate, and was promptly met with murderous glares from both Pansy and Daphne. "The healthy kind, of course. She was skin and bones-"

"Stop talking," Blaise 'coughed', smacking his knee against the platinum-blonde's. Idiot!

"…Blaise wins, I suppose," Tracey shook her head disapprovingly at Theo and Malfoy. "Blaise, you two… Have some shame." Oi! What's that supposed to mean? "Hmmm… Ron's not here… Why's that?" Blaise decided to become aloof, again, at that, deciding to let Daphne take the lead on Ron's whereabouts, and the sudden stillness from the others confirmed that they too had made a similar decision. "Oh, just brilliant… What's happened this… time around?"

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Tracey," Daphne started.

"Don't hide things from… me," the brunette warned, losing her mirth. "Not again, okay? He's the only… one of you who… visited me regu-… Regularly… Who's been honest… with me about everything I… missed… So, tell me what's happened."

Daphne nodded resignedly to herself, before shooting an icy look back at the Weasley twins. "They happened, that's what."

---

Monday 7th June, 1994 (Hogwarts – Evening)

Blaise stepped out of the Study of Ancient Runes classroom and let out a long sigh of relief, feeling confident that he'd scored an Exceeds Expectations at the very least. That's the end of the first day of exams… Merlin's Beard, nothing will compare to that Transfiguration exam, honestly, but I'm glad we did the hardest one first. It's only going to get easier from here.

"You took longer than I expected," came Malfoy's voice, and Blaise turned to see the pale boy leaning against a wall. "Is he still in there?"

"…Yes, he likes to be thorough," Blaise replied, studying Malfoy keenly. "You're waiting for him? Why? Have another favour to ask?"

The other boy frowned, pushing himself off the wall. "He is my friend as much as he is yours, Zabini."

"Is that so?" Blaise fought the urge to laugh. "You're closer to being his pet than his friend, and if you think otherwise, you're deluding yourself."

"No, I think you're the deluded one here," Malfoy smirked in a way that made Blaise's blood boil. Arrogant as ever. "And I'm not in the mood to argue with you, so let's just move on, all right? He's acting weird… Like he's on that damn potion, again. That's a cause for concern for all of us, isn't it?" …It is. "Even seeing Tracey did nothing to break his silence." Yeah, that was odd. He just… gave her a nod and went into the Transfiguration classroom. I knew that his act yesterday was just that; an act, but I underestimated how angry he must've been under the surface.

"In times like this, Malfoy, it's best to give him his space," Blaise spoke from experience. "He is happy to see Tracey back, I'm sure, but he's not going to start dancing in the hallways because of it. That's not who he is." Anymore.

"We should tell him about what Parkinson is up to," Malfoy suggested. "It might cheer him up."

"Pansy is the last person he wants to hear about right now, so don't bring her up."

"Really? Because her idea is rather brilliant." It's strange to hear him say something like that. Does he even mean it? "Spreading word about those tossers and how poorly they've always treated him, embellishing his minor concussion, painting him as a martyr who took the brunt of their cruelty to spare the rest of Hogwarts a massive headache… That little 'joke' they pulled on him wasn't half as well-liked as they think it was, especially not with the younger students. If Parkinson does a good enough job, it'll only be a matter of time before the twins start losing their popularity."

"Unless Ron does something worse to them in retaliation, which is definitely going to happen," Blaise countered, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I can't help but detect a hint of anger in your tone, Malfoy. Almost as if you want the twins to pay more than Ron does." Is it because they made you cry earlier in the year? In front of dozens of students?

"…What if I do?" Malfoy asked bluntly. "They're no better than Flint, but just because they're in Gryffindor, everyone praises them no matter how cruel their 'pranks' get. Do you really think they'd get away with their antics if they were in Slyth-?"

The door swung open behind Blaise, and he turned just in time to see Ron step outside. He gave them a blank stare as he closed the door, before walking past them without uttering a single word. Right, then. Best to leave him be-…

"Are you on the Calming Draught?" Malfoy asked, stopping Ron. Or, you could do something stupid like that.

Ron turned around and shook his head, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, sealed vial. "…I've got one on me, but I've managed to resist it so far." Where did he get that? Marty, probably. He would never refuse Ron anything. He's incapable of it.

Blaise and Malfoy exchanged relieved looks, before the former stepped forward. "Talk to us, mate. It's one thing to see you angry, but it's quite another to see you so… quiet." I don't know which is scarier, to be honest.

"Quiet, eh?" Ron asked, and Blaise shrugged in response. It sounds better than creepy, which is what I really mean. "I just want to finish my exams and go home, that's all. I know when I'm not fit for company."

"Not fit for company?" Malfoy repeated, his brow creasing.

"I'm not carrying the Calming Draught for myself," Ron answered plainly. "I'm carrying it in case someone tries to push my buttons." …Oh… "It's… insurance, I suppose."

"For your brothers, you mean?" Blaise asked, and the redhead gave a weak nod. Does he even realize how fucked up that sounds? "There has to be a better solution, Ron. Those potions… They're not good for you, and you know that better than anyone."

"You know what else isn't good for me? Ending up in Azkaban because I heard McLaggen snorting behind my back."

"You don't need a Calming Draught to avoid that scenario," Blaise promised, putting his hand forward. "C'mon… Hand it over, will you? You told us yourself that you never wanted to rely on them again, and, as your friend, I can't let you go back on your word." I know how stupid it is to put your hand in the lion's jaw, but he'd do the same for me. I know he would.

Ron looked between the vial and Blaise; his expression unreadable. "…Funny how such a tiny thing can have power over you, eh?"

"You're only human, mate."

"…Human…" Ron growled, his lips curling from disgust. "Don't think for a second that that doesn't piss me off." …What? The redhead tossed the vial to Blaise, who reacted quickly enough to catch it. "…You always tell me the things I don't want to hear, even when everyone else chooses to keep quiet. You're a good friend."

"…I'm glad you see it that way," Blaise muttered, pocketing the vial. Now, I just have to convince him to stop giving Pansy the cold shoulder. Easy, right?

"You do the same for us," Malfoy piped in. "Parkinson is going to try and-"

"I don't care," Ron turned around, walking away. "Don't push your luck."

"…Right."

Once Ron had turned the corner and vanished from sight, both Blaise and Malfoy let out shaky breaths. That could've gone a lot worse. I can't believe he was carrying the Calming Draught just to avoid hurting whichever idiot was the first to piss him off. I need to have a word with Marty, that little fool is doing Ron no favours by-…

"You're either really brave, or really stupid," Malfoy broke the silence. "Either way, though, he's right. You're a good friend."

Blaise shot the pale boy a bored look, but was surprised to see that Malfoy was apparently being sincere. "…I told you not to bring up Pansy." And stop giving me that look. It doesn't suit you one bit.

"I was just following your example, Zabini," Malfoy said, causing him to roll his eyes. "The best way to deal with the twins-"

The door behind them swung open, and when they looked back, they saw Granger practically hop out with a smug, satisfied smile on her face. Let me guess? She got another perfect score? I'm sure that won't give her a bigger head. Upon seeing them, she quickly schooled her features, and yet, it did little to alter his opinion of the bushy-haired witch. He had found her loathsome at the start of this year, and he found her just as loathsome now. Why Ron even entertains her is beyond me, but, then again, I can't explain half the things he does. No one can. If she had tried to turn all of Hogwarts against me, gone behind my back to invade my privacy, I wouldn't rest until she was thrown out of here, instead of bending over backwards to teach her Wandless Magic. I bet she doesn't even thank him, because, in her ugly little head, she's owed his precious time because she's oh-so-special.

"What are you staring at?" Blaise asked sharply, scowling at her. "Move it along, Granger."

The Gryffindor narrowed her eyes at him, before storming off in a huff. Yeah, go tell your boyfriends I was mean to you. I'd love to have a rematch with Potter when Dumbledore isn't there to coddle him. He wouldn't last five fucking minutes, the pathetic worm.

"That was a bit unnecessary, don't you think?" Malfoy asked, and Blaise drew in a sharp breath. That's rich coming from you.

"What's truly unnecessary is you still talking to me. Ron's not here, so go back to being silent. Everyone prefers that, believe me."

In the back of his head, he could hear Ron telling him not to let his resentment run his life, but it was just so easy to let it take control when he felt so overwhelmed by everything. 'Funny how such a tiny thing can have power over you, eh?' No, Ron, it's not funny at all. I don't know how you do it, how you manage to face and conquer your shortcomings so easily. I wish I had that kind of strength, but I just don't. I want to get even with the people who've wronged me, people like my mother and Potter and Malfoy… I want it more than I want anything else. How am I supposed to ignore that feeling? How am I supposed to turn the other cheek when every part of me knows that it's not fair? I can't, and I won't. I don't care about being the better man, I never have. The only reason I don't admit that aloud is because I know my true character will disappoint you.

---

Tracey Davis' POV

Monday 7th June, 1994 (Hogwarts – After Dinner)

The others had bid her farewell for the day, but Theo had remained behind in order to walk her to Professor Snape's office. She knew that he'd been waiting all day to be alone with her, which she found rather flattering, but now that he finally was, he had become disappointingly quiet. I'm no different, I guess, but I have a good excuse. I'm meant to be saving my voice and all that. C'mon, Theo… Just man up, already! You had so much to say in your letters! It shouldn't be any different, now!

"How did you convince your parents to let you come back to Hogwarts so soon?" Theo suddenly asked, smiling anxiously. "In your letters, you said that they were adamant about you recovering, first."

"I didn't… convince them," Tracey admitted, coming to a stop. Using these crutches is annoying. I don't even need them, but dad insisted I put on an act. "I just mentioned what… Ron said to me… and they came around…"

"Ron?" Theo blinked. "What did he say?"

"He asked if I… wanted to be left behind…" Tracey rasped; her throat was beginning to get sore. The Numbing Balm is wearing off. I need to go back home, or I'll be in a lot of trouble. "Mum and dad are… sort of smitten with… him… It's a bit weird…" I can't say I blame them, given what he did for me, but I shouldn't mention that. He and dad both told me to keep it to myself.

"Is it because he visited you a lot?" Theo asked, his voice becoming a little too reserved for her liking. Is that jealousy I'm sensing?

"No, they just think he's… special…" Tracey answered, not knowing what else to say.

"…Makes sense," Theo mumbled under his breath, nodding to himself. "Everyone thinks that, so it's no surprise your parents do too." He is jealous! Wow! That's… really bloody pathetic, given that he knows just how much Ron's been through. So what if my parents adore him? He deserves it!

"Well, he is… special, and I don't find… envy to be an esp-… especially sexy trait…" Tracey croaked, not hiding her displeasure. "But as special as… he is, he's not the… first boy I ever kissed… That's still you, Theo…"

The weedy boy blushed, shifting in his spot. "…I didn't mean to sound jealous of him-"

"Really? Could've fooled… me…"

"…Sorry," Theo apologized, averting his gaze. "I just wish I did more to help you these past few months. I'm… not like Ron…" So what? No one is like Ron.

"No, you're not," Tracey whispered, hopping closer to the boy. "You're Theodore… Nott, and it's you… I have feelings for…" I don't sleep with Ron's letters tucked under my pillow; I only do that with yours.

"F-Feelings for?" Theo swallowed thickly, his breath hitching. "So… We um… We feel the same way about each other?" Did he really just say that?!

"You already know we… do, but you don't do… anything about it," Tracey admonished, deciding to take the lead herself. "I have to go home… but before I do, I… want a kiss from you… A proper one… I made up my mind… before coming back… I fancy you, and you… fancy me… So, we're doing this." You didn't hold back when I first woke up, and I don't want you to hold back now. Just take a risk for once, and stop being so scared.

As if having read her thoughts, Theo drew in a sharp breath and placed his hands on her shoulders, determination flashing across his face. Finally! Preparing herself mentally, Tracey closed her eyes and leaned her head forward, waiting for Theo's lips to find hers, but they never did. What's the matter, now? She opened her eyes, and what she saw nearly made her burst into laughter. Theo was tilting his head at different angles with his eyes closed, puckering and un-puckering his lips throughout. What the fuck is he doing?! Seriously, what is this?! What a blithering idiot he is!

"Um… Are you having a… seizure?" Tracey managed, her lips twitching upwards erratically. "What are you doing?"

Theo's eyes snapped open, making him look like a deer caught in headlights. "I… don't really know how to start… This has to be special, right? I don't want to get it wrong, and I've been reading 'How to Woo Witches with Kisses', but it never mentioned anything about feeling so damn nerv-"

Tracey grabbed the boy by his robes and effortlessly yanked him forward, ignoring his yelp as she pinned her lips against his. She, much like her partner, had no experience in this particular activity, so she decided to rely on the movies she'd watched growing up. The heroine always has her eyes closed, right? Right! Oh, and she doesn't grab the hero by his collar like some thug! Tracey removed her hand from Theo's robes, and as she was trying to figure out where else to hold him, his firm hands returned to her shoulders. The gesture made her feel more at ease, especially when he tilted his head and made the whole affair more comfortable for them both. He has really soft lips, and he smells nice, too. Is he wearing cologne? Weird… He wasn't wearing it this morning, I'm sure of it.

Despite her heart hammering away inside her chest, she couldn't help but smile and giggle when he pulled back only pepper her lips with several rapid kisses. "That… tickles a bit, Theo…"

He stepped back at that, panting heavily. "…Sorr-"

"I liked it."

"…Oh… Good… I um… I read about it-"

"Do it, again," Tracey whispered breathlessly, leaning in.

He wasted no time in obliging her, his thumbs now tracing her jawline and making her hum with delight. I'm doing it! I'm kissing him! And it's amazing! Neither of them even realized they were holding their breaths, not until they were forced to part for air. …Woah… Daphne was right! Kissing can make you lightheaded! I feel like I could float away!

"…Did I do okay?" Theo eventually whispered, their faces mere inches apart.

"You were brilliant," Tracey beamed, staring into his black eyes. "What about… me? Was I-?"

He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck, surprising her. "If I didn't need to breathe, I'd have never stopped." AW! "I know you have to go home, but maybe we could keep-"

"Yes," she agreed before he could finish. "There's an abandoned class-"

"Ahem!" someone cleared their throat from behind Theo, causing them both to jump from fright. Who's there?!

Much to their shock, it was Ron's brother, Percy, who had interrupted them, and by his side were Ron's sisters, Ginny and Luna. What are they doing down here? Percy was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, Ginny was just staring at them, and Luna had her usual dreamy smile on her face.

"Um… We didn't mean to interrupt you two," Percy started, fixing his horn-rimmed glasses into place.

"Really? Because you did," Theo said, sounding thoroughly vexed. "Honestly, you couldn't have picked-"

"Ron's sisters," Tracey whispered.

"…a better time to walk in on us," Theo finished, putting on a ridiculous smile. "How can we help you three?" Hehe, smooth. He's so cute.

"You can keep giving us a show," Ginny smirked teasingly, earning herself a disapproving frown from her older brother. "What? It was a joke." I'm willing if Theo is.

"You two share the same aura, now," Luna's smile widened. We do? "It's very pretty."

"Um… Thanks…" Theo muttered, shooting Tracey a confused glance. Be nice to her. She's just a bit quirky, that's all.

"Same aura? Sweet Merlin…" Percy sighed out, shaking his head clear. "We wanted to talk to Tracey, and honestly, I'm glad we found you before you returned to the Slytherin common room."

"Oh, I'm actually-" she stopped, deciding to find out what they wanted, instead. "What can I… do for you?"

Percy's expression faltered upon hearing her torn voice, as did Ginny's, but neither of them commented on it as to not be rude. It's fine. I know I sound horrible, but it beats having to visit Ron at his grave. My voice is just a reminder of how brave I was, and of how much I love him. Plus, I have superpowers, now!

"Um… We wanted to thank you," Percy continued, she'd never seen him look so earnest before. "For what you did for our brother, I mean. He'd probably be dead if it weren't for you, and-"

"Don't worry about… it," Tracey stopped him, waving a hand and smiling proudly. "I love him just… as much as you… do. And, I know that… he'd have done the… same for me." Hell, I'd be dead too if it weren't for him.

The three of them just stared at her, and although Luna's expression never changed, Percy and Ginny appeared to be deeply touched by her simple words. The twins aren't with them. Probably for the best, actually. I'd love to test my new strength on those two rats. I bet I could knock them out with a single punch each.

"If you um…" Percy swallowed thickly, sounding a little hoarse all of a sudden. "If you ever need anything, you just send me an owl, all right?" Really? "I'll drop whatever I'm doing to help you." That offer could be quite useful, actually. Ron reckons Percy is going to go very far in the Ministry. "Ginny? Luna?"

"Whatever you need," Ginny nodded fervently, whereas Luna seemed to be studying the air between Theo and Tracey. "Right, Luna?"

"Oh, yes," the blonde Ravenclaw hummed, suddenly peering directly into Tracey's eyes in a way that made the Slytherin feel a bit intimidated. Those silver eyes of hers are a bit freaky. It's like she's staring at my soul. "Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Luna, don't be impolite," Percy was quick to scold the little witch, whereas Tracey felt all of her blood rush to her face. Are we? I mean, friends don't kiss the way we just did, but Theo's always so hesitant to-…

"We are!" Theo announced, putting his arm over her shoulders. We are?! Tracey was glad for her crutches, now, because without them, she'd surely have fallen over. "If there's nothing else, we'd like to get back to-"

"We understand," Percy said reassuringly, giving Tracey a grateful nod. "Just don't stay out past curfew."

"Ugh, you can't help yourself, can you?!" Ginny groaned, taking her older brother by the hand and dragging him away. "Have fun, you two!"

"Ginny! Don't do that! I'm your older brother! You're breaking my fingers…!" Percy's voice became inaudible as their backs receded further and further.

When she was certain that she was alone with her 'boyfriend', Tracey moved in front of him so they could speak face-to-face. "Did you mean… that? What you just said?" Because if it was one of your insensitive jokes, I'm going to kill you.

"Should I not have said it?" Theo asked slowly, losing his confidence.

"I want to know… if you meant it…" Tracey rasped, putting on her most serious expression.

"I meant it," Theo gave a strong nod, tugging at the hem of her sweater. "Tracey Davis, will you do me the honour of being my girlfriend?" Yes! I can't wait to tell Daphne and Pansy! He finally asked me out!

"Took you long… enough," Tracey smiled from ear-to-ear, making him chuckle.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Theo pulled at one of his curls, red-faced and still a bit nervous. "We um… We should get to Professor Snape's office…"

"Really?" Tracey blinked, and he gave her another nod. "Don't you want… to keep-?"

"I really, really do, believe me, but I also know that your bandages need changing." Oh… Well, he's not wrong. My neck is starting to hurt, but I can power through it. "A good boyfriend puts his girlfriend first, right? I know I can be a bit selfish, a bit cowardly even, but I want to do this right. I want you to know that you can rely on me." He's being so sweet, I can't even! Why can't he always be like this?

"It's… not that bad… I promise…"

"Not yet, maybe, but it's going to get worse, right?" Theo asked, and she couldn't bring herself to lie. "Don't be upset, please. We'll have tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and I want to kiss you on every one of those days, but for today, I think I need to escort you home."

"…Okay," Tracey agreed, his words had definitely made her heart skip a few beats. "I'm really glad I… came back to Hogwarts… today…"

"Me too," he kissed her cheek, gazing into her eyes. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you… too, Theo…"

---

Harry Potter's POV

Tuesday 8th June, 1994 (Hogwarts Grounds – Morning)

"This can't be it, can it?" Hermione muttered, staring at her Flobberworm. "I thought Hagrid was joking, but it's been half an hour, now. This is the worst exam ever."

Harry and Neville exchanged baffled looks, both of them were loving this. All they had to do was to keep their Flobberworms alive for an hour, making this the easiest exam in the history of Hogwarts. It was a welcome respite, especially after having to sit the Transfiguration and Charms exams back-to-back yesterday. It is a bit boring, but boring isn't always a bad thing. This has been my most boring year at Hogwarts, but it's also been my favourite. No Voldemort, no Basilisks… Just schoolwork and Quidditch. I hope next year is the same.

"I'm going to go ask Hagrid if there's more we can do," Hermione stood up, and immediately, Neville took her by the hand and pulled her back down. "What was that for?!"

"I'd like to get at least one Outstanding, Hermione," Neville pleaded. "Please! I don't want Gran breathing down my neck during the holidays!" He's underestimating himself, again.

"You'll get two if you count Herbology," Harry pointed out, slapping his best mate on the back. "We have Potions up next, Hermione, and this is the perfect chance to get some last-minute cramming in."

"You're not cramming anything, though," Hermione argued, shooting his empty hands a pointed look.

"Um… I was talking about Neville. I don't even like Potions, and besides, Snape's just going to go out of his way to make sure I don't get anything above an Acceptable." So, why even bother?

"That's not even remotely true," Hermione scoffed, returning to staring at her Flobberworm. Except, it is true. He's been giving me dirty looks ever since I won the C-Ranked Tournament. "Have you apologised to Ron yet?" Ugh! This again?! Why can't she ever let things go?!

"…No, but only because I haven't had a chance to," Harry drawled, absentmindedly poking at his Flobberworm's side. "He's not exactly easy to get a hold of, is he?"

"He's literally sitting right over there," Hermione said blandly, jerking her head towards the Slytherin.

Harry looked towards Ron, the redhead was sitting several feet away from his friends, his back facing the rest of the class. "…We're in the middle of an exam, Hermione…"

"We're allowed to move about and talk to each other, though," Neville stated, earning himself a frown from the Boy-Who-Lived. Why? I took your side just before, didn't I? "…You shouldn't have given the twins your cloak, Harry. Hermione and I told you that they were up to no good." They mentioned nothing about going after Ron!

"How was I supposed to know that they were going to take things so far?" Harry grumbled, he hated it whenever his best friends teamed up against him.

"Because we told you they would!" Hermione shot back. "You should listen to us more often, honestly!"

"Just go over there and say you're sorry," Neville said encouragingly. "I know you feel bad about it, mate. Do it for your sake as much as his." His? Do you really think he cares about an apology from me? Still, Nev's not wrong… I do feel bad about it, doubly so after hearing some really messed up stories about the twins and how they've always tortured him. I wonder how many of them are actually true, though. I could ask him, but that's probably not a very smart idea.

"…Tsk… Fine… You're right, Nev… I um… I saw that the twins were angry, but I just didn't think it through…" Not accepting responsibility makes me just as culpable as the twins, right?

"Of course, he ignores me and listens to Neville," Hermione muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. If you weren't such a nag, I might listen to you too.

"Can you watch my Flobberworm for me?" Harry asked, and when Neville gave a nod, he stood up and began making his way over to Ron. Just be honest and upfront about it. What the twins did was awful, and you're one of the main reasons why they didn't get caught.

As he neared the Slytherins, their suspicious eyes became glued to him without fail, but he ignored them easily enough. Yeah, I get it. You lot don't like me. Get over yourselves. I can talk to Ron whenever I damn well please. You don't own him.

"Hello, Ron," Harry greeted the redhead's back resolutely. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"…Sure," the Slytherin answered without looking back, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Harry stepped up and planted himself on the grass beside Ron, quickly noticing how pale and tired the other boy looked. Does he ever sleep? Whenever I see him, he's got those bags under his eyes. I have nightmares every now and then, but he looks like he has them every single night. I hope that's not the case, but why else would he not sleep properly?

"Hermione told you that I gave the twins my invisibility cloak, right?" the Gryffindor started, scratching the back of his head. "Well, it's true… But, I swear, I didn't know what they were up to. They only said they needed it to 'even the score', they never mentioned anything about you. Now, in hindsight, I should've-… I don't know… I should've refused them… But I didn't, and I'm sorry. If it weren't for me, McGonagall wouldn't have lost track of them, and they wouldn't have found Peeves-"

"You underestimate my brothers, Harry," Ron cut in, lethargic. "I don't blame you for what happened. Don't stress yourself over this. I'm used to it, so it's fine." Used to it? I know this is stupid, but I don't care. I need to know.

"Um, Ron… There's been a bunch of rumours flying around Gryffindor Tower since yesterday," Harry whispered, before drawing in a sharp breath. "Did the twins really… try to make you subservient to them through an Unbreakable Vow?" The Slytherin broke out of his daze at that, finally looking at Harry. "When you were little, I mean?"

"Who told you this?" Ron demanded, his expression turning stern. It's true?! What the fuck?!

Harry blinked at the baggy-eyed wizard, his mouth dropping open. "Did they burn a hole through your tongue for tattling on them? Did they actually kill your pet Puffskein and throw it's body-?"

"…Damn it, Daphne," Ron groaned, shooting a displeased glance towards his friends. "I told you those things in confidence." He then shook his head to himself, looking back to his Flobberworm. "I've also done my fair share of stupid things, Harry. Don't let me catch you spreading what you heard about my brothers." I understand.

Despite deciding to heed Ron's warning, he couldn't help but compare the twins to Dudley. His cousin had terrorised him throughout his childhood, and as such, Harry both feared and despised the fat bully to this day, even though they shared blood. At least, Dudley didn't have Magic to torment me with. He only ever punched or kicked me, he never poisoned me or turned my toys into giant spiders. It was a strange feeling to lose respect for a pair of older boys he'd grown rather fond of, as the twins suddenly didn't seem so funny and harmless, anymore.

"I'm sorry I helped them," Harry apologized, again, feeling his stomach twist because of Ron's crestfallen expression.

"…Don't be," the Slytherin said softly, his hollow gaze fixed on the Flobberworm. "Like I said… I'm used to it."

Shifting in his spot, Harry gave a pitiful nod before standing up. "I um… I'll see you around, Ron."

When he was met with silence, he decided to be on his way, but not before patting Ron on the shoulder, hoping that his pathetic gesture of support made the redhead's day a little easier. It probably won't, but it would've felt wrong to just leave without it. Hermione was right, after all. I should carefully consider my choices in the future, before I end up with too many regrets.

---

Nymphadora Tonks' POV

Wednesday 9th June, 1994 (Hog's Head Inn - Afternoon)

"Twenty-one, and a deadbeat, already," she mumbled into her mug, her eyes drooping. "No job. No boyfriend. No girlfriend. No friends, even. You've done real good for yourself, Nymphadora. Real fucking good." She chugged down the thick ale, its rustic flavour washing away her disappointments. "Ah… That hits the spot, it does. Aberforth! I'll have myself another pitcher, I reckon!"

The tall, old wizard shot her an icy look from behind the bar, but despite his obvious dislike of her, he sent a pitcher full of dark ale floating to her table. "Last one, girl. You're disturbing my other patrons." What's he on about?

Tonks looked around the empty inn, before shrugging to herself. Guess I'll go to another tavern after this one. Nymphadora Tonks isn't one to overstay her welcome. Still, I should slow down a bit. I'm supposed to be meeting Mad-Eye here, but he's late. I wonder what he wants from me… Probably wants to yell at me, call me pathetic and stupid, as if I don't know that already. Well, I've got some things to tell him too. He's the one who recommended me to Crouch, after all. He's the one who wanted me assigned to a job I didn't want to do. I was on my way to becoming a Hit-Wizard, and he fucked it all-…

The fireplace roared to life, and Tonks looked to see Mad-Eye limp into the Hog's Head Inn. His Magical Eye darted from corner to corner, no doubt checking for any 'assassins' that might be lurking in this dingy shithole, before it became fixed solely on her. I'm going to need another drink, aren't I?

"Sorry, but Aberforth only gave me one tankard," Tonks drawled, pouring until her mug was filled to the brim. "You'll have to order your own if you've a dry throat." No, wait, he doesn't drink from anything but that flask of his, does he?

"It's the middle of the day," Moody growled, sneering as he made his way over to her. "What the hell are you doing, Tonks?"

"Oh… So, we're getting right into it, are we?" the Metamorphmagus frowned, her ashen hair turning scarlet. "I'm having a drink, in case that eye of yours is malfunctioning."

Moody clenched his jaw, drawing in a sharp breath as he took a seat across from her. "My eye isn't what's malfunctioning, Tonks. You are." Can't argue that. "Is this what you threw away your career for? To become a drunk?"

"I threw away my career because of you," Tonks hissed, her grip on her tankard tightening. "Or, rather, people like you. And Crouch. And Roberts. And-"

"Save me your excuses, I didn't come here to listen to them." Fuck you! "Did you tell the Weasley boy about the Minister wanting to keep him under surveillance?" He's not here to talk me into joining the Aurors, again?

Even though she had no intention of returning, a part of her felt greatly let down. "You mean, her wanting to spy on an underage wizard? Yeah… I told him. So, what?"

"You damn fool," Moody hissed, slamming his fist on the table and making her jump. Woah! Calm-…! "Roberts was right about you. You're not Auror material. Never were." S-She said that? "I ought to arrest you for divulging Ministry secrets, for your sheer cowardice!" He shot out of his seat, shaking his head down at her. "Being an Auror isn't about being popular, or even about morality, it's about protecting the Wizarding World. And that takes sacrifice. Whether it's your social standing, or your conscience, or even your life. Sacrifice, Tonks… That's what it means to be an Auror. I thought you understood that, but clearly, I was very much mistaken. When you finally grow up, you'll understand just how stupid it was to go running to Weasley. He's not what you think he is. No one ever is."

With that, Moody limped away, knocking over a chair as he went, leaving Tonks dazed and speechless in his wake. What the fuck was that? She just sat there, motionless, her brain failing to comprehend what had just happened. She'd figured that he'd try to convince her to come back, or, at the very least, ask why she'd left, but no… He couldn't have cared less, apparently, and his only concern was whether or not she had revealed the Minister's sketchy plans with Ronald Weasley. After a many silent seconds, she managed to collect herself enough to scoff, she'd definitely made the right decision by leaving. Roberts shrugged off my words, then. Figures. She's in too deep to question her 'orders'. Not Auror material? Fuck off… What's that supposed to mean, exactly? That I'm not some blind dog willing to be led everywhere by the nose? That I'm not some heartless bitch who can invade a dying boy's privacy just because her bosses ordered her to? Then, yeah, I'm not Auror material, and I'm better off for it! I'll just find another job! Someplace that's not the Ministry! But, first…

Tonks finished her brimming tankard in one go, swiftly refilling it. That's better! It's the middle of the week, and I'm enjoying a cool pitcher of strong ale! Life could be worse, right? I'm just fine with this, I am! Instead of filling out case reports, or fighting some Dark Wizard, I'm enjoying my freedom! I reckon, I'll even go out tonight! Find someone cute to spend the night with! I've earned it!

---

George Weasley's POV

Wednesday 9th June, 1994 (Gryffindor Tower – Evening)

Everything felt off… It had felt off from the moment Peeves had played his prank on Ron. George had never seen his little brother look so… murderous, and from that moment on, he had been on edge. Why, though? Was he expecting retaliation? If so, why hadn't it come yet? What was Ron waiting for, exactly? He'd already proven that he could get to them even in Gryffindor Tower earlier in the school year, and yet, their Wards hadn't detected him. Actually, forget about the Wards, George hadn't even seen Ron since the prank. His little brother had seemingly vanished, only appearing to sit his exams before vanishing, again.

And yet…

Ron's presence could be felt everywhere, especially over the last couple of days. George wondered if Fred had felt it too, but knowing his twin, he probably hadn't. No, Fred was too busy doing what he always did whenever he was in a foul mood; he had become fixated on creating a new product for the business they'd been planning for as long as either of them could remember. Fred's job was to lead the way, to come up with all their ideas, and he had done so from the day they could walk, whereas it had always been George's responsibility to look out for them, to keep trouble at bay, and as such, he'd noticed the stares that followed them wherever they went even if Fred hadn't. They were being watched, being discussed, by everyone around them, and, for the first time, it was not out of admiration. Quite the opposite, in fact, which only made him feel more on edge. Something bad is coming, I can feel it in my gut. Sitting around and pondering about it won't solve anything, though. I need to figure out what's going on.

George shot his twin a quick glance, Fred was jotting down notes with a manic grin, he'd probably made a breakthrough on whatever he was working on. I'll go by myself, then. If I interrupt him, he'll just get pissy with me. He got up and travelled across the cosy, warm common room, not failing to notice the many pairs of eyes following him. What the fuck is going on, seriously?

"Oi, Lee, you got a minute?" George called out, tapping his mate on the shoulder.

Lee looked up from his Potions revision, his brow creased. "You also struggling with Potions, are you? Merlin's Beard… I can't make any sense of this tripe… Snape's going to bloody murder me when I score a Troll-"

"This is not about Potions, I promise," George interrupted, observing that Alicia and Angelina, both of whom were sitting at the table with Lee, were giving him contemptuous looks. What the…? Alicia? You too? "Um… Can I talk to you, Lee? In private?"

The dark-skinned wizard looked towards Alicia and Angelina, before letting out a resigned sigh. "…Sure, mate. I could use a break."

"Seriously, Lee?" Angelina frowned deeply. "We talked about this." Talked about what? Why is everyone acting so weird?!

"All right, what's going on here?" George demanded, not a hint of his usual mirth to be found. "What have Fred and I done? Why is everyone avoiding us?"

"Come on, mate, no need to make a scene," Lee stood up, tugging at his arm.

"Alicia?" George asked, and the witch in question blatantly ignored him. "Really? You can't even tell me what I did wrong?"

"He hit his head when he fell over, you prat," Angelina hissed fiercely, surprising him. Who? "It wasn't funny. Not one bit." Is she talking about… Ron? "Shame on you, George. And on Fred."

Lee pulled at his arm, again, and this time, George allowed himself to be led towards their shared dorm, his mind reeling from the strange interaction. You know, when I think about it, I didn't see them laughing with us… Actually, none of the birds in Hogwarts laughed, save for Swans and her lot. It was mostly just the lads who got a laugh out of Ron being kicked down a peg.

"…Here we are," Lee muttered, letting go of George's arm. "Make it quick, will you? I really need to do well on my O. W. Ls, or else I'm fucked. My dad's told me that he'll kick me out if I…" he trailed off. Shit, his dad's on his case, again?

"…He's still-" George started, but stopped when Lee waved a dismissive hand.

"He'll always be a piece of shit, you know that… Now, what did you want to ask me?"

The redhead cleared his throat, deciding it was best not to discuss Lee's alcoholic father with him. "…People have been staring at Fred and I, and just now, Angelina-"

"Tore you a new one?" Lee provided, and he gave a firm nod.

"What the fuck was that about?" Alicia didn't even want to look at me! I thought we were going steady, but all of a sudden, she starts acting like I don't exist? Why?

"It was about your kid brother, obviously," Lee explained, rolling his eyes. "You two, honestly… You're like the smartest blokes I know, but also the dumbest." Oi! "A lot of people didn't find that joke of yours all that funny, including me. Isn't your brother like really sick? Brain-damaged, and all that?"

The off feeling returned, stronger than ever. "…Yeah, but-… Look, he is sick, but he's not some helpless cripple, all right? Ron's… Ron…" He can take a joke, trust me. He'll be pissy for a bit, and then, he'll come around.

"Ron's Ron?" Lee cocked an eyebrow. "You mean, he's always been the butt of your jokes? So why should him being sick change that, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" George murmured, even more confused than before. "Lee, tell me what's going on here, because I'm genuinely lost."

"I'm not surprised you haven't heard, so let me be the one who fills you in. People have been talking about you, mate, and if what they're saying is true, then you're done for." …What?

"Talking about us? Done for?" George blinked.

"Your family life is none of my business, but… Did you really use his Puffskein as a Bludger?" Lee asked, a hint of disgust flashing across his face.

George stared at his friend; he'd never seen such a look on Lee's face before. "…Fred um… Fred did, yeah… It's not as messed up as it sounds, though. It was already dead when we found it, choked on a piece of food, or something. We were goofing off, and Fred ended up hitting it through Ron's window like some idiot-"

"…Fucking hell…" the other boy gawked, visibly horrified. "It's really true, then. What the fuck, George? That's fucking mental!"

"It was already dead!" We told Ron the same thing, but Bill and Charlie still went ballistic because he wouldn't stop crying! "And we apologized to him, we really did! And we never did anything like that, again! I made sure of it!"

"Did you burn a hole through his tongue? With an Acid Pop you two cooked up just for him?" Oh, I remember that… That was genuinely horrible… And the smell… Just horrible…

"…He was tattling on us behind our backs just to get mum's attention…"

"Oh, that's all right, then, isn't it?" the ebony wizard looked utterly flabbergasted. "…Yeah, I'm just going to go back to my studies, if that's all right with you. I have my own problems to deal with, and you two… Well, hanging around you is only going to bring trouble to my doorstep." He then moved past George, his hand pushing his dreadlocks back. "You know… We've been friends for a long time, and I don't want to lose that, but…"

"But?" George turned around, the off feeling burrowing a hole in his gut.

"…You really ought to stand up to Fred once in a while," Lee suggested, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Going to Peeves was his idea, wasn't it?" It was. "I bet you had something else in mind, but he kept insisting, and as always, you caved. Right?" George didn't answer, but his silence was answer enough. "…You really ought to grow up, mate. Be your own person. For as long as I've known you, you've been following Fred around, and he's led you into a lot of trouble over the years. At this rate, you'll end up sharing a cell in Azkaban with him." Azkaban?

"That's where you think my brother is heading?" George asked, his temper flaring. "Really, Lee?! He's been a damn good friend to you-!"

"I know he has, trust me, I know," Lee sighed out, his shoulders sagging. "…Mate, our O. W. Ls are next week, and I really don't need this right now. I was just speaking my mind. I always do that, remember? You do whatever you want with what I've said, just don't ignore it." He then looked back, shrugging. "…I'll see you later, George." Yeah… See you later…

---

One Hour Later

"So, that's his game, then?" Fred grumbled, pacing back-and-forth. "He's going to play the victim?" George watched his twin in silence, the off feeling continuing to weigh him down. "And everyone is buying it? Have they forgotten that Ron came after us, first? They were all keen to see what we'd planned before, but now, we're the bad guys? That's some serious horseshit, that is!"

"…Don't you think Peeves went too far?" George asked, causing Fred to come to a sudden halt.

"Don't tell me you're feeling guilty, now." Guilty? Guilty… Yeah, I think I am… I've never seen Ron so angry before. If he'd thrown a tantrum, or started cussing us out, I'd know that he understood it was a joke. But he didn't do that, not this time. He looked ready to attack us, to fucking kill us. He didn't see it as another one of our pranks, he saw it as a threat-… "Well? Have you gone mute, George? I asked you if you're feeling guilty, now?"

"Aren't you?" George asked in response. "I warned you against involving Peeves, but you refused to listen to me." You know best, right? "He went too far, Fred, as he always does, and now, Ron's livid with us."

Fred grimaced, his eyes wandering about the room. "…Yeah, I know…" Good! "Ugh! Why's he acting like this?! This is our dynamic, isn't it?! We keep him from becoming boring like Prefect Percy, and he keeps us entertained with his funny reactions! Why's he got to go and spoil a good thing?! He already ruined months' worth of work, didn't he?! We're even, now! He needs to get over it!"

"We've got to find him and apologize-" George began.

"What?! No!" Fred looked scandalized, causing his twin to sigh dejectedly.

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"What's gotten into you, George?" Fred groaned. "Is it Alicia? She'll move on from this in a week, I can guarantee that! Angelina's always getting mad at me, but she always comes back, doesn't she?"

"I like Alicia, but, at the end of the day, Ron's my brother," George frowned, how could his own twin know him so little, sometimes? "I don't give a shit if she stays angry for the rest of her life, I'll manage just fine without her. It's Ron I don't want angry with me." He then stood up, taking Lee's advice to be his own person. "I'm going to go find him, now, so you can either come with me, or you can be a stubborn idiot."

---

A Thorough Search Later

This was his final hope…

George had searched the seventh floor, popped into the Room of Requirement, visited the Kitchens, scoured the Dungeons, and even roamed the Northern Wing, but Ron was nowhere to be found. Now, his only remaining hope was that his elusive brother was in the Slytherin common room, but seeing as he couldn't access the Den of Vipers, he was forced to loiter near the entrance until a reasonable Slytherin passed by who would listen to his request. That Slytherin happened to be Clara Martyris, a seventh-year who did very little to hide her revulsion when speaking with him. It was obvious that she'd too heard the stories floating about Hogwarts over the last couple of days, and yet, there was something else in her demeanour that struck George as strange. She seemed to genuinely despise him, even though he'd never spoken to her before.

"…At least, she listened to me…" he muttered to himself, pinching his eyes. "Finding Ronnie is all that matters, so I should be grateful she agreed to look for him."

Several minutes passed, and just as he began to lose his patience, the entrance revealed itself once again, and soon after, Ron's friends stepped outside. No Ron, though. Damn it… Did he send them in his stead? Why? Is he really so angry that he doesn't even want to see me?

Greengrass, Parkinson, Zabini, and Malfoy stood between him and the entrance, all of them staring at him as if he were smelly garbage. They want to act like Ron's bodyguards, do they? I could literally turn them all into different colours for the rest of their-… No, that would only make Ron angrier with me. Fine… Let them pretend like they're tough. As long as I get to see Ron, I can tolerate it.

"Which one is he, again?" Parkinson asked Greengrass, breaking the silence.

"George," the blonde answered curtly. "The 'nicer one', as Ron puts it."

"Nice isn't how I'd describe either of the Terror Twins," Zabini said icily. Terror Twins? Is that what the Slytherins call us? No accounting for taste, I suppose. "What do you want, Weasley?"

"Is my brother in there?" George asked Greengrass, she was the only one of Ron's friends that he didn't find too snobby, not counting Davis. "Can you send him out, please? I need to talk to him."

"What? You want to play another prank on him?" Parkinson accused, narrowing her eyes.

"No, I just want to say that I'm sorry," George replied, surprising them a little. They must have a really low opinion of me if they think I'm incapable of apologizing.

"You do?" Greengrass asked, sounding doubtful. "Why? You were having a grand old time when he was being humiliated by that bothersome Poltergeist."

"…Fred and I go too far sometimes," George admitted, scratching his chin. "And we've always found humour in-… Look, Peeves shouldn't have hit Ron like that, and we shouldn't have laughed about it. It wasn't funny, and I regret what happened. Now, can you go and get him? I've been looking everywhere for-"

"He's not here," Greengrass cut him off, turning to leave.

"What? C'mon, don't be like that!" George groaned loudly. "He's not hiding in the Room of Requirement, so he has to be-"

"You know about that?" Greengrass asked, shooting him a wide-eyed look.

"…He only found that place because of us," George fought the urge to roll his eyes. I shouldn't mention the Marauder's Map, just in case he hasn't told them about it. If he's as clever as I think he is, he wouldn't be so silly as to trust them with its existence. "Look, I'm feeling pretty guilty right now, but tomorrow morning, I'm going to be pissed that you got between me and my little brother. Go and get him. Now."

"He. Isn't. Here," Zabini stepped forward, as if trying to shield the girls. "Because of you two, he's become unreachable for all of us. That's what he does whenever he's upset, all right? He disappears, because he knows he's not fit for company." Not fit for company? "Thank you for that, by the way, you prick. We absolutely love it when he starts isolating himself because his family can't stop breaking his bollocks." George shifted in his spot, averting his gaze. …Damn it… They're not lying, are they? Now, I'm getting proper worried. Where are you, Ron? "We're done here. If you want to find him, look somewhere else. He's not here."

"Do you lot know where he might've gone?" George asked, fresh out of ideas. "Does he have any favourite-? Oi! I'm talking to you! Don't just walk away from me!"

Ron's friends disappeared through the entrance, all of them save for Malfoy, who had remained behind with a sour look on his face. This one is my least favourite, but maybe he can-…?

"You must be really stupid to antagonize someone like your brother," Malfoy started, his tone vindictive. "Either that, or you're far too comfortable behind McGonagall's skirt."

"Careful, Malfoy-"

"Or, what? You'll set Peeves on me?" the platinum-blonde interrupted, smirking darkly. "Go right ahead, I dare you. I'm no longer scared of you, and do you want to know why?" Please, enlighten me. "Ron might ignore you hurting him, but the moment you hurt me, that's when all hell will break loose. You, your twin, McGonagall, even that pretentious 'Head Boy'… He'll go through each of you, and he'll take his time doing so." Is that so? He certainly seems to believe it, so I shouldn't take those words too lightly.

"You stayed behind just to say that?" George asked, and Malfoy shrugged in response. "…Charming…"

"Don't ever cross him, again, or we'll do a lot worse than attack your popularity," Malfoy warned, retreating through the entrance right after. What? Did they-…? These little shits are behind those stories getting out?!

"…Cock!" George grit out, kicking the air. "…Fucking hell, Ronnie… Why would you tell them all that stuff? Who airs the family's dirty laundry to their friends?" I'll have to ask him when I find him-… If I find him… Where the fuck are you, little brother?

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Wednesday 9th June, 1994 (Chamber of Secret – Night)

"My trunk is all packed, then?" Ron asked, not looking back.

"All of Master's belongings are accounted for," Marty answered proudly.

"Thank you, Marty," he turned to face the Elf, smiling dimly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Master would most likely starve to death," Marty joked, sniggering to himself. I would, wouldn't I?

"…I don't ask too much of you, do I?" Ron asked, and Marty straightened up immediately.

"Master-"

"Because if I do, I want you to tell me."

The Elf stared at him for a few moments, before adorning a rather stern expression. "It is Marty's privilege to serve such a kind Master. Marty is proud to serve, and although Master is a wizard and does not understand Marty's pride, Master should still respect Marty's wishes." He's right, I will never understand what it's like to be an Elf, but I should keep my lack of insight to myself. There's no need to make him feel uncertain about himself just because I feel uncertain about myself.

"I'll be leaving Hogwarts tomorrow," Ron changed the subject, looking around the repurposed Chamber of Secrets. "I will only return to watch Percy's graduation ceremony. You'll be all right here without me, won't you?"

"Marty enjoys working with the other Elves. However, Marty does not wish to remain at Hogwarts during the holidays. Can Marty join Master-?"

"I'd love that, mate," Ron agreed, smiling more fully. "It would be my privilege to share a home with you." Marty beamed, running up and hugging his leg. "See how I turned that around?"

"Master is most clever!" Marty praised; a toothy grin aimed up at him.

"…I have my moments," Ron whispered, the sheer love and adoration behind his friend's large eyes caused him great discomfort. "I'm going to try and get some sleep, all right? Goodnight, Marty."

"Goodnight, Master," the Elf stepped back, bowing deeply before Apparating away. Alone, again, at last.

Ron moved to the closest bed, sitting on its edge as he took in the blessed silence. The last three days had felt like an entire month to him, as living inside a head as fucked up as his own tended to make even mere minutes feel like long hours. The desire for vengeance hadn't abated after his decision to leave Peeves and the twins alone, it felt stronger than ever, as a matter of fact, and fighting it constantly had worn him down to the bone. He was simply exhausted, both in mind and body, but his gruelling battle was coming to an end. Tomorrow, he would sit his final exam, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and then, he'd leave Hogwarts and retire to his lovely, tranquil cottage. Even picturing it waiting for his return by the shimmering lake brought about a sense of longing and optimism. He'd made plans to try and enjoy himself for a change, to take in the world from a different perspective, even if it was only for a few days. He was going to get himself a much-needed massage from the incredibly talented Nina Anand, he was going to visit Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in order to taste as many flavours as he possibly could, he was going to enjoy a scrumptious meal at the Pond, he was going to buy himself clothes that weren't armour disguised as suits, and he was going to wait until it was the middle of the night and take a dip in the shimmering lake starkers. This world has more pleasures to offer me than just violence, but I have to search for them, don't I? Ravencunt never did, and that must've played a big role in driving him mad. I don't want to be like him. I can't be like him. I have to succeed, and to do that, I need to remind myself of what I'm fighting for.

"…Just one more exam," Ron whispered to himself, removing his glove. "I am stronger than any addiction, any impulse. I am the fucking Champion of Fate, and I am in control."

---

Thursday 10th June, 1994 (Quidditch Pitch – Nearly Midday)

Remus had gone above and beyond to make his exam unique, as instead of sitting inside a classroom and answering questions on a piece of parchment, he had the third years take part in an obstacle course. Now, this wasn't a particularly impressive obstacle course, not by Ron's standards, at least, but it was special in that it could only be finished by those who had paid attention to Remus' instructions throughout the year. That, and by not being a lazy piece of shit.

It comprised of the following, in order; a fifteen-foot-high, triangle-shaped structure which had to be ascended with the use of a piece of rope, a lengthy and deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, a hundred metre dash across an area riddled with potholes hiding Red Caps, a patch of marsh which had to be navigated while ignoring misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, and finally, at the very end, climbing into a trunk and battling against a 'well-fed' Boggart. All of it sounds rather dull, to be honest, save for that Boggart. I'll ask my 'protector' to let it read my mind, to let it find my fear, so I can face whatever it is and defeat it.

Ron subtly eyed the students who'd already had a turn, their sweaty and pained faces filled him with disgust and disdain. Weak little cunts, all of them. Too fat from stuffing their faces, too lazy because of their dependence on their Magic, or too cowardly to face even the most pitiful of threats. This is who I fight for? Who I have sacrificed so much for? Pathetic.

Nearly everyone had had a turn by now, however, so far, only six had managed to finish the exam. Harry, who had been the fastest with finishing just under twelve minutes. Blaise, who had been faster than Harry all the way until his battle against the Boggart. Theo, who had technically been the fastest, but only because he alone had been allowed to skip the Boggart via Remus' special dispensation. Dean Thomas, who had been bitten rather brutally by a Red Cap but had pushed through the pain regardless, even impressing Ron to a degree. Seamus Finnegan, who had been lashed across the face by the Grindylow and had nearly blown up the Hinkypunk in a fit of anger. And, lastly, and with the slowest time of the lot, Hermione, who had skipped the very first obstacle after failing to conquer it several times. She should've been failed immediately for that, but Remus is too soft. What if she was running from Snatchers, eh? What then? She'd be dead, no doubt about it.

The rest had all failed to finish, for one reason or another, including Daphne, Draco, Pansy, and Neville. Daphne and Draco had actually reached the Boggart, but it had overpowered them, forcing Remus to intervene and pull their unconscious forms out of the trunk. Pansy had been tricked by the Hinkypunk, who had led her straight into a quagmire too deep and too muddy to escape. And Neville, the fool that he was, had been herded by the Red Caps into a trap, the vicious little blighters had pummelled him relentlessly until Remus had chased them away with Stinging Jinxes. Neville was the most pathetic, easily. He failed the first obstacle, nearly drowned in the second, and only got through half of the third before being outwitted by bloody Red Caps. No wonder his grandmother sees him as a perpetual disappointment. He is one, through and through. Kind and friendly, even brave, but entirely talentless. And he wants to join the Order? He wants to stop Bellatrix Lestrange? He wants to avenge his parents? Fuck off… She'd eat him alive with a side of beans and toast.

Ron's eyes strayed past his classmates and towards the entrance of the Quidditch Pitch, where he spotted the source of his foul mood. Instead of using his week off to prepare for his O. W. Ls, George was watching the third-years make fools out of themselves. Why? What does he want? And why is Fred not with him? They never move about the castle without each other. George waved at him, but Ron only continued to stare, trying his hardest to ignore the fire raging through his belly. Even after all my accomplishments, all of my struggles, he still thinks he can humiliate me? Belittle me? As if I'm still that eight-year-old boy? I ought to practice the Cruciatus Curse on him, cripple him for life so-… Damn it! I'm doing it, again! Control, for fuck's sake! Look away! Focus on the exam!

Drawing in a shaky breath, Ron looked to see Padma finally reach the top of the first obstacle, throwing her hands in the air and 'wooing' in victory. The majority of her classmates, including Pansy and Hermione, cheered the Ravenclaw on, screaming and shouting loud enough to cause his previously dull headache to flare up. When is it going to be my turn? I just want to finish up here and fuck off.

"Someone… isn't having a fun… time," Tracey whispered from behind him, and he turned around with a jaded expression. "Why so mopey, Ron?"

"I'm bored," he answered drearily, eyeing the parchment in her hand. "Finished up, have you?"

"It's not fair that… I had to do a written… exam, but yeah, I'm fini-… finished," Tracey replied, waving the parchment about. "You reckon you'll… beat Potter's… time?"

"He took over ten minutes, Trace," Ron reminded her. "He might as well not have finished at all."

"How long do you… think you'll take?" Tracey asked, and he eyed her critically.

"Why are you asking me these questions?" What do you want?

"I made a bet that… you'll finish close to five… minutes," Tracey grinned, playfully punching his stomach. "Can you do it? I want… Pansy's Galleons."

"Five minutes?" Ron frowned deeply. "You think I'm that fucking slow, do you?" What the fuck? "What did Pansy bet on?"

"Seven minutes," Tracey answered, pulling a guilty face. Seven?! Unbelievable! "Don't be mad… at me…"

"…Sorry," Ron pinched his eyes, exhaling. "I didn't sleep much last night, and everyone's so noisy-… Sorry…" Why did George have to show his ugly mug? Is the Universe testing me? Is that it? "Tell you what, Trace… You go to Pansy, and you bet her that I'll finish under three minutes."

"Three minutes?" Tracey went wide-eyed, before shaking her head. "No, I'll lose-"

"You won't," Ron promised, rolling his shoulders. "Tell her that she'll owe you double if I do, and if I don't finish under three minutes, you'll pay her double. Go on."

"Ron, there's a… lot to do… And those Red Caps… are clever," Tracey still looked unconvinced. "And there's a Boggart-"

"Have faith in me," Ron said reassuringly, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"…Okay," Tracey sighed out, hopping away on her crutches. "But if I lose, you have… to pay Pansy for me… I don't have… that kind of money…"

"I'll pay her, don't worry," Ron agreed, the cogs in his head already grinding. This exam presents an excellent opportunity, now that I think about it, and George being here can actually serve me. Yes… If Theo and Blaise are to be believed, the twins' reputation has been taking a beating ever since their 'prank' on me. I can use this exam to show a fraction of my power, and in doing so, show everyone here how easily I could crush my brothers. Lavender, Pansy, Parvati, Justin, Anthony… They all love to gossip, so they'll spread word of whatever transpires here throughout Hogwarts. The only question is… How do I go about setting everything into motion? I still plan to leave after this exam, so I won't be around to control the narrative, which means I need to do something that people will be talking about until the holidays. Maybe even long after, actually. So… What to do? What to do? Hm…

Deciding to take inspiration from his surroundings, Ron began examining every tiny detail around him. The obstacles require physical prowess, and occasionally, Magical knowledge. Physical prowess… I have that in spades, but everyone knows that already. No one is going to be surprised by me finishing with the fastest time. No, I need to obliterate this course completely. That's how I'll keep them talking about me even after I'm gone. And I know exactly what to do in order to achieve said obliteration… This is the perfect chance to test my idea on how I can prolong the time I can maintain Cutis Terra. It puts too much strain on my developing body, right? I bet if I 'enhance' myself with the gifts the Entity 'bestowed' upon me, I could better utilize Cutis Terra. For that, I'll need stronger muscles and bones, which should be easy enough to do. Closing his eyes, and focusing his mind, Ron pictured his skeleton and the layers of muscles covering it. Become denser and stronger. Immediately, he felt his body begin to swell, not enough for anyone to notice, but definitely enough to make his clothes feel a lot tighter. Cutis Terra! His augmented body grew rigid for a moment as the Spell took effect, his eyes widening when he realized how significantly easier the Progenitor Spell was to execute. Why didn't I think of this before?! Merlin's Beard! Fuck yes! My genius is so vast, so gargantuan, that it generates its own gravity!

Forcing himself to not grin like a lunatic, as to not give himself away, Ron undid Cutis Terra and stretched his arms back-and-forth. Hold on… Shit… My fucking clothes… They're too tight, now! Actually, not only that, but they'll just slow me down in general. The shirt is too tight and the cloak is too loose. That's… really bloody inconvenient. Why didn't I wear one of my suits down here? Clicking his tongue, Ron once again looked around for a solution, and what he saw displeased him immensely. Some of the lads ran around without their shirts… I can't blame them, none of us knew what Remus had in store for us, and the Hogwarts uniform isn't exactly made for this exam. Fuck! My plan is ruined! I'm just going to have to-… His eyes landed on George, again, causing another bout of fire to flare up from his belly. …He needs to learn to fear me. Him, Fred, Peeves, McGonagall, everyone in this fucking school! Ravencunt was right, my lack of retaliation will be seen as weakness by many, especially the idiots in my own House. That cannot be allowed. I will no longer compete for power against worms I can squash within a heartbeat! It's too boring! It's too frustrating! And, most importantly, it's bloody beneath me!

Where was this hesitation coming from, exactly? Did he really fear people seeing his scars that much? Was he still that insecure? Why would someone like him, who had defied Gods and vanquished monsters, tremble in the face of mere school children? Ronald Weasley… That's where this weakness comes from. I don't want those around me to feel disgusted by me. That's… beyond pathetic, isn't it? I am disgusting, after all. What is my body compared to my sins? Weakness like this cannot be tolerated. It must be cut out like a cancer. There must be nothing that I can't defeat, including my own fears! That's what it means to be the Champion!

Nodding to himself, Ron's resolve hardened into steel; he was doing this. And, if anyone starts laughing at me, or gagging, I'll just remember their name and hold a grudge against them, and their descendants, until the end of time. Yeah, that's definitely healthier than beating their arse all over the castle. See, Madam Pomfrey? I did learn something, after all. We didn't waste each other's time-…

"Ronald Weasley! You're up!" Remus called out; the Universe, yet again, eager to embarrass him. Where's all my previous excitement gone? Fuck it, let's do this!

Drawing in one final deep breath to cool himself down, Ron began undoing his cloak, folding it neatly atop the grass. Now, the shirt… Bloody hell, the buttons look ready to pop open. It looks a bit ridiculous, doesn't it? I might've overdone the growth a little, but it is what it is. No time to waste, now. One button at a time, he undid his shirt and removed it, the summer sun clashing against his pale skin for the first time in a long time. The glove too… It's made of Basilisk skin, and it interferes with my Wandless Magic. Completely naked from the waist up, Ron turned to face his classmates with a firm, prepared expression. Go on, then! Laugh it up! He waited for the sniggering and horrified whispers to start, but that didn't happen. Instead, those who had their eyes on him were gawking slack-jawed like surprised seagulls, especially the girls. Um… Okay, then… The scars shocked them into silence? Is that what happened?

Rolling his shoulders, Ron began moving towards Remus, who too was staring with his mouth hanging open, giving the flabbergasted Werewolf a nod upon reaching him. "So, any rules I need to be aware of?"

"…You're more cut up than a julienne salad…" Remus muttered, his lips twitching upwards. "…Gods above…"

"Pardon?"

"…Never mind… Um… So, the first-…" Remus abruptly stopped, looking him up-and-down. "I knew you were fit, Ron, but this is… something else…"

Ron peered down at his chiselled torso, noting that it looked mostly the same as ever, save for being bulkier. I'm no Artyom, but compared to the other boys here, I might as well be Russian and speak in broken English. Remus suddenly poked his bicep, surprising the redhead. Cut your fingernails, you animal!

"What was that for?" Ron demanded, rubbing the agitated spot.

"…It's real," Remus let out a bemused laugh, shaking his head to himself. "Good on you, Ron! All that running and training has really paid off! I've never seen a healthier teenager in my life!"

"…Cheers," Ron whispered, the compliment was both unexpected and appreciated. Is everyone else staring for the same reasons?

He looked back when the widespread whispering reached his ears, and much to his disbelief, there wasn't a single girl who wasn't ogling him like he was the last morsel of meat left on the planet. All the girls, and Wayne Hopkins… Bloody hell, some of them are even drooling over me. What is going on here? Do my muscles really mask my scars? Is that why Daphne was perving on me when I was training against the P-12? I just figured she saw me differently than everyone else, given our history. His eyes locked onto the Greengrass heiress, his face flushing upon seeing her eyeballing his arse and chewing on her lower lip. She's perving on me, again! In public too, the shameless harlot!

"So, rules?" Ron asked as he looked ahead, eager to put his clothes back on. "Be quick, please." My plan has backfired! I need to abandon ship!

Remus looked between Ron and his classmates, laughing teasingly. "Sure, wouldn't be good for either of us if you got carried away by them." Carried away?! "The rules are simple, just finish the course. If any of the obstacles give you trouble, you can skip them, but you will lose marks. When you enter the trunk, it will lock behind you. Once you've dealt with the Boggart, it will unlock on its own, and I'll stop the timer. Simple, right?"

"I just have to finish?" Ron asked, smirking slightly. Good! This is exactly what I wanted to hear! "I can use whatever Magic is at my disposal?"

"Yes, but this is Defence Against the Dark Arts, so relying on the Dark Arts will lose you marks," Remus suddenly became stern, giving him a warning look. No Brachium Colubrum, then. Got it. "Oh, and beat the Boggart properly, all right? No blowing it up!"

"Got it."

"Are you ready, then?"

He brandished his Cypress wand from his pocket and placed it between his teeth, biting down on it softly as he got into a starting position. Cutis Terra! A shade of silver gleamed over his chest and back, and then over his arms, making him glow as if he were under a spotlight, and when he raised his arse for a better push-off, some degenerate let out a long whistle. Whoever that was, you're going to hell! Satan's waiting for you, pervert!

"Go!" Remus announced, firing red sparks from his wand.

Ron shot forth with explosive power, tearing the grass beneath his feet right out of the ground. Within a couple of seconds, he was at the first obstacle, but rather than using the rope to scale the tall structure like everyone else, Ron instead jumped with all of his might, simultaneously thrusting both of his palms down towards the Earth. DEPULSO! His augmented strength, with the addition of a pair of powerful Banishing Charms, sent Ron soaring through the air, easily clearing the entire obstacle by a massive margin. Shit! That's too high! I'm going to break my fucking legs! Just as panic started to build regarding his landing, he utilised his Occlumency training with Snape to force himself to calm down and figure out a solution within an instant. Incendio! Depulso! Thrusting his fists down, Ron sent forth two roaring jets of fire, greater and hotter than any he'd previously cast, the sheer force of the jets slowing his descent enough for him to land on the scorched ground without any issues. Thank Merlin I'm not wearing a cloak! Onwards!

He bolted with inhuman haste towards the second obstacle, ignoring the awed screams and cheers emanating from behind him. Fuck swimming through the pool! It'll hurt my time too much! He jumped onto the edge of the paddling pool, before pulling his wand out from between his teeth. Keep it simple, now! Glacius! A bright blue light illuminated the pool, and by the time it faded, the entire surface of the pool was covered by a thick sheet of ice. My Spells… They've never been so powerful before! Popping the wand back into his mouth, Ron threw himself forward, landing on the ice with wobbly knees. Slippery… I should take advantage of that. Bending his knees for better balance, he then aimed his palms behind himself, casting a Wandless, Non-Verbal Windy Spell. Ventus! Spiralling gusts of wind burst from his palms, propelling him forward with alarming speed. The pool, thankfully, wasn't as lengthy as some had claimed it was, and within mere moments, Ron was on the opposite end, leaping out and charging towards the third obstacle.

This one was going to be beyond easy, not even worthy of needing any Spells to clear. Instead, Ron focused solely on his increasing his speed with each step, blowing past the Red Caps who didn't even manage to crawl out of their potholes in time to see their target. It took around five seconds for him to clear the one hundred metres, at the end of which he leaped through the air, grinning maniacally. This is amazing! Fucking amazing! Oh, I've been so bored! So confused! But this?! This is what I was meant for! I was born to fight! I was born to conquer! All that matters here is the next obstacle! The next battle! No doubts, no guilt, no shame, no whining! Just the next fight! And the next! And the next! And the next!

He landed in the marsh with a loud splash, the murky water raining down on him as his eyes gleamed red. Almost at the end, Champion! Get to it! Tracey has Galleons on the line! Ron powered through the mud and water, brandishing his wand again just in case there was a nasty surprise lurking about. C'mon! Faster! This is nothing to you! As he spotted the bank, a sharp pain suddenly shot up his skull, causing him to pause his march towards victory. The Hinkypunk… It's trying to use the Confundus Charm on me, isn't it? Well, you picked the wrong freckled fuck, you little twat! That shit won't work on me!

"Hidey-ho!" came a willowy voice, and Ron looked to his left and spotted the creature standing atop a boulder. "This here is my swamp, but I can lead you out of it! Just listen to my voice, okay?! I'm here-"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Ron roared, shoving a pointed finger towards the diminutive, one-legged puff of white smoke.

"EEP!" the ghostly creature hugged its lantern, shrinking.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU CUNT!"

The tiny Hinkypunk began wailing from fright, lifting its lantern and hobbling away as fast as it could. That Boggart better put up a worthier fight! Ron crossed the threshold of the marsh and barrelled towards the trunk, ripping it open and jumping down into the darkness. I'm making excellent time! At this rate, even the old man will be left in awe of my power! The inside of the trunk was pitch-black, especially now that it had sealed itself shut, but he wasn't bothered in the slightest by his surroundings.

It wasn't darkness that he feared, after all.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," Ron called out to the Boggart, stepping forward and undoing Cutis Terra. "Let it through, all right? Let it find my fear. I need to see it. I need to defeat it." I'm going to do Madam Pomfrey proud, today!

A presence shifted to his right, and then, ahead of him, icy voices conspiring amongst themselves deep within the dark. A sharp pang of pain assaulted his brain directly, but Ron endured it without showing any signs of weakness. C'mon, do it. Show me what I fear most. I have to conquer whatever I see. I have to know that I'm ready! That nothing can stop me! That nothing can break me! The pain persisted as the Boggart tried to break through Ron's natural defences, and for his part, the redhead relaxed his mind as much as he possibly could, hoping to aid the Boggart in its efforts. It's too weak, isn't it? You have got to be-…

It happened so suddenly, the Boggart taking on its latest form, and as Ron stared at his greatest fear, his blood turned cold inside his veins. Fuck… Not this… Anything but this! Before him stood a magnificent, ornate, silver hourglass, the bottom globe was entirely shattered, and as such, its vile prisoner was missing. It got loose… It fucking escaped… I'm dead… I'm so fucking dead… It's going to tear me apart all over again, isn't it?! And then, it'll put me back together just so it can do it forever! Ron took an instinctive step back, releasing a shaky breath. NO! No! The Boggart is just trying to scare me! This isn't real! And yet, as he stared at the broken hourglass, he knew exactly what the Boggart was showing him. That broken hourglass didn't just represent his doom, but the doom of all. This was the physical manifestation of him failing his Cycle, of him being trapped in an endless loop of torment and death. This was inevitability knocking at his door, reminding him that he was going to suffer for all eternity regardless of the outcome he achieved. ENOUGH! Our story does NOT end this way! We will not allow it!

"Riddikulus!" Ron chanted, and the broken hourglass transformed into the Slytherin Hourglass, filled to bursting with glimmering emeralds. …That's better. When the Entity comes for me, I'll be ready for it. If it wins, then so be it, but I won't let it beat me until it fucking beats me. I won't let fear control me. Never again. This is my lot in life, and I will make the best of it. I will leave this world a better place than I found it, for all those whom I love and must protect.

He heard the trunk click open above him, signalling the end of his final exam for the year, and as Ron climbed out of the darkness and into the light of day, he felt renewed in his purpose. This had been a long year, filled with trials harder than any he'd faced before it, but he had persevered. He had survived against all the odds, and he knew he would continue to do so for as long as he held onto the promise of a better tomorrow. Every time I fall over, I'll get right back up. I'll suffer, I'll cry out in pain, but I'll never stop moving forward. I will win, and I will do it my way.

Ron walked back to his classmates with his head held high, they were eagerly awaiting his arrival. "What was my time, Professor Lupin?"

"…Two minutes, thirty-nine seconds," Remus mumbled, staring at him in utter disbelief. "That… wasn't humanly possible, Ron…" Well, I am not human. I am the Champion.

Ron smiled proudly, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. "That Boggart, Remus… You're an excellent teacher, truly. You were meant for this. I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye, but you've taught me a lot this year. You have my gratitude."

Remus blinked, before smiling softly. "…Thank you, Ron. Those words… They mean a lot to me." I never did bring up Thaddeus' request, did I? Well, if Thaddeus wants Remus, then he has to approach the man himself. I don't want to be the one who takes this place away from Remus. I know he loves it here.

"I'm going to go lie down for a bit, now," Ron said, heading towards the growing group of witches blocking the path to his clothes.

"That was mental, Ron!" Lavender exclaimed; her eyes glued to his abdominal muscles. "You're like the fastest wizard ever!" She doesn't care about the scars, does she?

"And the fittest!" Parvati giggled, more and more of them surrounding him. All I see in their eyes is delight… No judgement… They see me, not my fears.

"How did you jump so high?!" Padma asked, she hadn't smiled at him like that in a long time. "You practically flew, Ron!"

"That was… an amazing display of Wandless Magic, Ron," Hermione commended, her face as red as a tomato. "…So amazing… And firm…" Firm? She said firm, right? I didn't mishear that?

"How long did it take you to get a body like that?!" Megan Jones asked eagerly.

"Do you run every morning without a shirt?" Susan asked, hanging off of Hannah.

"If so, we'd love to join you!" Hannah sniggered, creeping a little too close for comfort. "He still smells nice! He's not even sweating, you guys!"

"That course was nothing for Ron!" Pansy announced smugly, having forgotten in her excitement that they weren't on speaking terms. And I just lost her a bunch of Galleons. "He could do it ten more times without fuss!" Probably, yeah.

"Clearly! He was like a gorgeous, red blur out there!" Mandy Brocklehurst batted her eyes at him, trying a little too hard to get his attention. I spent so long thinking that people would be afraid of my scars, that they'd be disgusted, but I was the one who was afraid. I was the one who was disgusted. People… are kind… Kinder than they get credit for, because people like me, people in power, we can only ever focus on the worst of civilisation. We don't have a choice, sure, but it does blind us to the good all around us. The Headmaster… He's the only man I know who is as powerful as he is, but still sees the goodness in people. He even sees the goodness in a monster like-…

Someone suddenly touched his bicep, giving it a strong squeeze. They're touching me, now?! Ron looked to see Sue squealing to Lisa about how 'solid and tough' his arm was. I should put on some clothes before they molest me, shouldn't I?

"I hope you enjoyed the show, ladies," Ron put on his best smile, causing an uproar of high-pitched laughter. "But, sadly, it's come to an end." Because I'm beginning to fear for my safety.

"NO!"

"Aw!"

"Keep the show going, please!"

"Wait!" Fay pleaded, as if speaking for the entire group. "Can you um…? Can you flex your muscles for us?" Why not? This is… fun… "Come on! Please?!"

Ron tensed every muscle he could think of, curling his biceps for the elated witches. They shrieked and jumped about animatedly in response, one of them even giving his arse a painful smack. Oi! Who was-…? Really, Tracey?! That hurt! Be gentler next time, will you?! Fucking hell…

"That hurt my… hand…" Tracey reported to the others with a mischievous grin, and Ron decided it was time to be on his way. Before I end up with bruises.

"Excuse me, please," Ron slipped past them, allowing them to feel different parts of him as he went. Someone just pinched my arse! Why?! I bet it was Pansy! She just slipped her hand in there while she could, didn't she?!

Once he was through the crowd, he spotted Daphne waiting for him with his clothes in her arms. She had a knowing smile on her face, one that brought a blush upon his cheeks. Don't be a nonce, now. Walk up there and get your clothes back, even if she's going to tease you until your ears turn red. He made his way over to the only witch he had eyes for, squaring his shoulders as to appear taller on instinct.

"Can I have my clothes back, Lady Greengrass?" Ron requested.

"Hmm… What are you willing to give me in return?" Daphne asked, trying her hardest to keep her eyes on his face. I know what she wants, already. She wants me to do something that sets her apart from the others. Childish, really… But, then again, that's not a crime. It's me who's different, and that's my problem to deal with, not hers.

Ron stepped forward, placing his disfigured hand on her cheek and kissing her on the forehead. "I'm going to go take a shower, but I want to talk to you after. Just us two. Come meet me in my room?" She lost to that Boggart, and I want to know why. It's unacceptable. She needs to be stronger if she wants to walk by my side. A Boggart is nothing compared to the shit we'll face down the line.

"…Okay…" Daphne squeaked, wide-eyed and getting redder by the second.

Ron flung his cloak over his shoulders, deciding it was enough cover for his walk back to his room. I shouldn't dirty the shirt needlessly; it'll just mean more work for Marty. Giving Daphne a parting nod, he began heading for the exit, noticing that a majority of the boys in his class looked a lot less excited than their female counterparts. Envy, eh? Well, be envious. Be so envious that you push yourselves to reach my level. I'll be waiting for you. He continued on, his eyes fixed on George, who was gawking at him as if he had three heads sitting atop his shoulders. It's strange… I'm still angry with him, but I'm not sure why, anymore. Maybe, what I'm really angry at is how Fred and George never change. They settle for being a nuisance to others, when they could be so much more. That Boggart really put things into perspective, didn't it? What are a pair of troublesome pranksters compared to the monsters I have to face? They're nothing more than disappointments.

"Ron, that was fucking brilliant!" George shouted, his hands finding his head. "You're an absolute beast, mate! An absolute fucking beast!" You've no idea how correct you are, brother mine.

Ron ignored his older brother, moving past him in silence. The Headmaster stopped me from making a terrible mistake, and I never thanked him. That man… That man is my greatest friend, because he can look me in the eyes and tell me when I'm wrong. It hurt to hear him say those things, it really did, but he only said them to wake me up. It wasn't some manipulation, it was love. He… understands me… More than anyone else, even more than Daphne. I have to thank him properly before I leave. I have to tell him that I never want him to stop reaching out to me, because I need him. Without him, I'd be so lost in this world.

George suddenly stepped in his way, stopping him. "Ron, don't ignore me, please! I'm sorry, okay?! I really am! I've been looking everywhere for you, little brother! Everywhere! Just so I could tell you how sorry I am! Peeves went too far, but it's Fred and I who went to him, and-"

"Save it, George," Ron interrupted, ice lacing his tone. "I won't accept your apology, and no… It's not because I'm being vindictive… If anything, I've spent the entire week fighting that side of me, and it took a bloody Boggart for my head to finally clear up. I won't accept your apology because I know you don't truly mean it. You just feel guilty, and that's not good enough for me."

George's shoulders sagged, and he lowered his gaze. "…Just tell me what I need to do to make this right, Ronnie. I'll do it, I swear it."

"Pull your head out of your arse," Ron answered bluntly. Be like Dumbledore, old boy. Teach him rather than punish him. He's not beyond saving, he's just a prick.

"…Pull my head-? Ron, I don't understand-"

"My whole life I've looked up to you and Fred… I even let you hurt me because I was so desperate for your attention," Ron started, keeping his expression calm and collected. "I'm not angry that you humiliated me for the hundredth time… I thought I was, but… I think, what truly makes me want to hurt you, is the fact that you're so fucking talented, so brilliant, and yet, you throw that away every day because it means nothing to you. I mean, the shit you just saw me do… You and Fred could come up with some Magical Object that would let you do the same, and it wouldn't take you longer than a few months. I wish I could be half as intelligent, half as creative, as you two… I wish I was born special, and I always have… You could make Hogwarts such a better, more enjoyable experience for everyone, but you settle for bullying your schoolmates for laughs. When I see that, it kills me. It just-…" his voice cracked, and he promptly cleared his throat. "It breaks my heart, George. You break my heart. You piss away your potential, while a sorry sod like me has to sacrifice everything just so he can make the cut. And, until you understand my words and change your act, I will not forgive you. Now, step out of my way. You just saw a fraction of my power… Don't make me show you the rest." I hope that stings, you prat, because you needed it. What you do now… That's entirely up to you. I've done my part. Expect nothing more from me until you're worthy of it.

---

A Long Shower Later

He stared at his reflection, his crimson, toad-like eyes flickering golden for a heartbeat. Ron shot back, deeply alarmed by what he had just witnessed. What the… FUCK was that?! His gloved hand traced the rings under his eyes, both of which had returned to their usual, human appearance. My real eyes turned as golden as Fate herself; I saw it… Didn't I? Did I just imagine that? What the fuck? Did I get heatstroke out there?

Drawing in a sharp breath, Ron decided to worry about whatever he had seen later, as it was time for him to leave Hogwarts for now. He stepped out of the bathroom, spotting Daphne waiting for him on his bed in a white, sleeveless blouse and high-waisted, denim shorts. She was lying on her side, one hand holding her head up while the other rested on her hip. …Woah… What's this, then?

"Hello, you chiselled God," Daphne winked, making him snort. "Don't laugh! I'm trying to seduce you!"

"Sorry, sorry," Ron pressed his lips together tightly, wheezing. "You can um… You can start, again. I'll be serious this time."

"You won't betray me?" Daphne asked.

"Believe in me."

"New chapter?"

"New chapter."

She cleared her throat, stretching her bare legs as to give him a better view of them. "Hello, you chiselled-"

Ron burst into laughter, throwing his head back and clutching his sides. "What the fuck?!"

"You prat!" Daphne laughed as well, hurling his pillow at him. "I trusted you!"

"I'm sorry," he gasped for air. "I tried… I really tried, but I couldn't! Chiselled God? Where did you come up with that?" Oh, I needed that. She's so barmy whenever we're alone, I love it.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Daphne moved off of his bed, and he finally noticed that she wasn't even wearing shoes. Seduce me, eh? She could easily wrap me around her little finger, and we both know it. "I made myself comfortable. You were taking too long in there."

Ron sniffed her, surprised by her flowery scent. "Did you shower and dry yourself off?"

"I was dirty," she shrugged in response. Do I really take that long in the shower? Blaise is always complaining about it, but I just assumed it was because he's a bitch.

"You don't usually dress like this," Ron muttered, feeling his face grow hot as he ogled her legs. "Not that I'm complaining, of course! You um… You look very beautiful…" That's the best I could come up with?! The Champion will always be a tongue-tied twat when it counts, it seems!

"Tracey got these for me, it's what the Muggle girls wear," Daphne beamed, doing a spin for him. Her father would have a stroke if he saw her right now. "You don't think it's inappropriate, do you? Showing my arms and legs like this?"

"Unladylike, you mean?" Ron asked, and she nodded. "No, Daph, I don't think that. Your parents might, but they're old and boring, so who cares? What matters is what you think. And me. Always me. You should come to me with every outfit that shows skin, and I'll give you honesty like you've never seen it."

"You always say the right things," Daphne giggled, teasingly tugging at his suit jacket. I do? Of course, I do. The Champion is one suave motherfucker! He is a scholar, a wordsmith, a chiselled God! "I don't know what came over you, today, but it was-…" she suddenly stopped, blinking repeatedly. "…Your suits make you look less bulky than you are…" Fuck! It isn't the suits; I returned my body to its usual form! Quick, say something clever! "Actually, wait… You looked bigger today than you did the last time I saw you shirtless, I swear… Was it the adrenaline?" I'm drawing a blank here!

"You know what they say…" Ron chuckled nervously.

"What do they say?" Damn it!

"I don't why I said that," he sighed out. "I don't even know who the fuck 'they' are."

Daphne stared at him, a bemused smile breaking out on her face. "You are the weirdest boy I know, Ronald Weasley." I know. "It's a good thing you're so cute, otherwise you'd be in trouble."

"I'll take that," Ron smiled bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

"Seriously, though, what came over you?" Daphne asked. "You never show any skin, Ron. Ever. Why today?"

"At first, I wanted to show people why they should fear me, but, in the end, it became more about conquering my own fears," he answered truthfully. "They didn't care, Daph. About my scars, I mean. They just saw… me…" Just like the Headmaster, and Professor Snape, and Madam Pomfrey, and Nina, and Madam Roberts, and Emilia, and Artyom, and the High Mother, and so many others. How could I have been so blind? So afraid?

Daphne smiled more fully, reaching up and taking him by the chin. "Never make assumptions about people. You taught me that, remember?" …Right. "I thought you were just another uncouth boy from a lowborn family, but you turned my world upside down."

"I guess, I sometimes forget that not everyone is my enemy," Ron whispered, promising himself to do better. "I'm sorry, by the way. They um… I let them touch me, and stuff-"

"I don't mind," Daphne said reassuringly. You don't? Where is the real Daphne? Did you kill her and take her place, demon? "I mean, at first, it bothered me, but then I saw the look on your face… I saw how much it meant for you to feel comfortable in your own skin, and that's all I could really care about. I'm happy for you, Ron. You deserve to be seen for the chiselled God you are."

Ron snorted, again, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "Thank you, Daphne. You always say the right things too." And you're pretty. And you smell nice. Even your hands smell nice… That's a bit weird…

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Daphne asked, stepping even closer. "Are you… disappointed… in me?" That obvious, am I?

He let go of her hand, adorning a more serious expression. "What happened? How did that Boggart overpower you?"

Daphne's expression faltered, and she swallowed thickly. "…It… showed me something worse than anything I could've imagined… I wasn't ready… I'm not even sure I want to be ready, actually…"

"Explain."

"You, Ron… I saw your gravestone…" Daphne managed, her eyes growing lifeless. …Oh… "But not just that, no… I saw your parents, and your sisters… Your mother was screaming like she was dying… And your father did nothing to comfort her, because he was so broken himself… I saw my own parents, prim and proper as they were before you joined our family… I saw myself, closed off and always pretending to be my father's clone… I even saw our friends, bowing and scraping before Malfoy… I saw a world without Ronald Weasley in it, and it was the worst thing I'd ever seen…" Merlin's Beard, that's-… I mean that much to her? Daphne… "It was just one thing after another, and I couldn't think, I couldn't even breathe, and it all happened so fast-"

Ron pulled her into a hug, holding her as tight as he could just to prove to her that the Boggart had lied to her. I'll forgo the lecture this time, I reckon. She needs her best friend, not her mentor. She eventually mustered the strength to hug him back, and they stayed like that for several minutes, finding comfort in each other's warm embrace.

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, Daphne," Ron promised, stroking her silky, golden hair. "You're stuck with me, all right? You're stuck with me."

"You're leaving Hogwarts, again, aren't you?" Daphne whispered into his chest. "I know you are… Marty already took your trunk while you were in the shower… Why, Ron?"

"I can't sit around doing nothing, and you know that," was Ron's answer. "We have no classes next week because of O. W. Ls and N. E. W. Ts. And the week after is just for mucking about until the House Cup ceremony. I've done my part for Slytherin, and now, I have to go out there and continue my work. There are people who need my help, and I will never ignore that." …Not even for you…

"…I understand."

"You know where to find me," Ron rested his chin atop her head. "Whenever you need me, I'll be there. Count on that."

"You'd better write to me this time around," Daphne pulled back, staring up at him with a hopeful smile. "And if you ignore any of my letters, I'll creep into your cottage and smother you in your sleep." There's the Daphne I know and love!

"Understood," Ron smiled back. "I will answer every letter you send me, I promise."

"And you'll visit me in the holidays too."

"I will visit-… Wait… Have you decided where you're going to stay?"

"I have," Daphne gave a resolute nod. "I sent your father a letter a couple of days ago. Tori and I, we'll both be staying with your family, if they'll have us."

"Have you? They'll try and keep you," Ron warned, but she just laughed. I'm being serious here! Keep a Portkey handy! My mother's always been in the market for more daughters! "You could also go to Sirius, you know? He owns a more spacious-"

"No," Daphne refused outright, surprising him a little. What was that?

"…Okay… Um… I don't really-"

"Lord Black is a powerful man, and he is indeed friends with my parents, but he's a pig, Ron," Daphne explained. A pig? I mean, he can be a little vulgar, but-… "I will never sleep under that man's roof, nor will my little sister. Not unless we're forced to. And I don't want you to suggest otherwise, just in case the wrong person hears you. It's different for us witches, all right? We have to protect ourselves from the influence of certain men who see women as nothing more than objects to be used for their pleasure, my mother went to great lengths to teach me that lesson. I don't want to expose Tori to his 'lifestyle' for months on end. I can't do that, not after all of my mother's warnings." Is she really talking about Sirius? I never realized she held him in such low regard. He's a clown, sure, and he loves being promiscuous, but he's also very noble and kind. He'd lay down his life to protect her and Tori, I know he would. Whatever… If she doesn't feel safe living with him, who am I to question that? "I know you like him, I do too, but I've heard him say things that have made my skin crawl… You wouldn't understand… You're not a witch." Fair enough. I know I'm not the most knowledgeable of people, but I do know when to not argue with someone.

"The Burrow it is, then," Ron agreed. "I should've thought it through. I'm sorry."

"It's okay… And this way, you can visit both me and your family in one go," Daphne said, making him shift in his spot. "They love you, and I won't let you throw that away because of a few spats. Don't ignore what so many people in this world will never have, not for pride. I won't let you be that person, even if I have to fight you every day."

His own words to George rang through his head, humbling him. "…I will visit you all, Daphne. You're right, I could be a better son to them, a better brother, and I will try my best to be."

"Good," Daphne smiled, again, searching his eyes. "Now, there's some other people here who want to say goodbye to you, and you'll be pleasant with them all, won't you?"

"Not Pansy."

"Ron, plea-"

"I will speak with her only when she has learned her lesson," he put his foot down. "Do no undermine me in front of her."

Daphne let out a frustrated sigh, stepping away from him. "…Very well, but this cannot go on for much longer. She loves you so much, Ron, and it's killing her to go unseen by you. Her birthday is coming up, and she wants to throw a big party at her manor. You'll be there, or it won't just be her you have to ignore." Till the first of July, then. That should be long enough for her to realize that shortcuts can lead to dead ends.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"Come in," came Dumbledore's voice, and Ron wasted no time in entering the office. "Ah, Ronald! What brings you to me? How were your exams?"

"Outstanding," Ron answered, stepping up to the clawed desk.

"I am pleased to hear that," Dumbledore beamed, removing his spectacles. "Will you be joining us for lunch in the Great Hall, today?"

"Um… No, I won't be," Ron replied, standing up straighter. "Headmaster, I'm leaving Hogwarts, again." The old wizard's smile wavered, making the redhead feel a little guilty. "The next couple of weeks… Well, they're just there for mucking about, and that's not for me. I'll be back for my fourth year, I promise, but for now…" he trailed off.

"You wish to spend your time staying busy, I understand," Dumbledore nodded, leaning back in his chair.

"I will relax a bit, I promise. Um… I plan to get a massage, buy stuff, eat ice cream-" he stopped abruptly, earning a bemused chuckle from the old man. Stop stalling, Ron. Be a man and speak your mind. "…The things you said to me… In the clocktower…"

"Are you still angry with me?" Dumbledore asked plainly. "If you are, I want you to know that it's all right."

"I was angry, and… I was hurt…" Ron admitted, despite it being extremely difficult to do so. "But I know why you said them… I needed to hear them from someone I respect, someone I look up to. I lost control, but you were there to pull me back. You've been doing that ever since Tracey got-… You've been doing it for months, now, and I've never really thanked you, have I?" Instead, I've been thinking that you're out to manipulate me. And, sure, you definitely are, but that doesn't mean you don't care about me. I know you do.

"You don't have to thank me, dear boy," Dumbledore rose up, walking around the desk and placing his hands on Ron's shoulders in a paternal manner. "We all need someone to guide us from time to time, and you've been that someone for me on more than one occasion. This is why we'll defeat Tom, in the end, because we can rely on each other, whereas he is utterly alone."

Ron nodded, glad that they were speaking, again. "…I'm scared of turning into him… Or, into something even worse than him… I was going to murder Peeves, Sir, and then-"

Dumbledore shushed him, smiling from ear-to-ear. "I used to fear the same thing, but then I got to know you. You could never be like him, Ronald. Never. There is too much love in your heart, and even if you forget it sometimes, you are a good man." …No… At best, I'm decent, but that's it… "After all the horrors you've endured, all the sacrifices you've made, you still give everything you have to others. That is what it means to love, my boy, and I could not be prouder of you." Really? "You inspire those around you with your strength and compassion. You inspire me."

Ron felt his ears turn red, and he shifted in his spot awkwardly. "…Thanks…"

"I need you to understand that there is nothing wrong with relying on those around you," Dumbledore continued, gently squeezing his shoulders. "It doesn't make you weak, it makes you wise. No one in this world has all the answers."

"Not even you?"

"Especially not me," Dumbledore laughed, making him smile. "But if we put our heads together, we can do great things. We are always better together than apart. All of us. Wizards. Centaurs. Goblins. Veela. Muggles. Purebloods. All of us need each other, and that's a good thing." Better together than apart, eh? He's right. What's the point of the Champion if he has no one to fight for? Without that, he's just a weapon… He's their weapon. I don't want to be just a weapon, an instrument of destruction. I need to be so much more than that. "Take some days to reflect on my words, please. When you're getting your massage, or eating ice cream, or buying 'stuff', think about all the different people who worked together to make such pleasures possible. Will you do that for me?"

"I will," Ron promised.

Dumbledore nodded appreciatively, resting his right hand atop Ron's head, before laughing to himself. What? What is it? "You're growing too fast for my liking, dear boy. Soon, I'll have to crane my neck just to look you in the eyes."

Ron grinned; he couldn't wait to be taller than the old man. "You could always wear those high-heeled boots of yours."

"I have a feeling that even with their help, it won't make much of a difference." …It won't? How tall does he think I'll end up being? "Are you sure I can't tempt you into joining us for lunch?"

"Why don't we have lunch in here? Just the two of us?" Ron bargained, and Fawkes shrieked from his perch. "And Fawkes… Sorry, mate."

"I will settle for that offer," Dumbledore chuckled, gesturing him to take a seat. "What are you in the mood for, my boy?"

"Meat."

"Any specific type of meat?"

"Meat."

"…I will see what I can do, then."

---

Corban Yaxley's POV

Friday 11th June, 1994 (Estate in Hungary – Evening)

He brought her letter to his nose, taking in its perfumed scent. Eighteen, and yet, she has already mastered the dangerous art of ensnaring the minds of powerful men. Lady Drozdova… Valeriya… Soon, I will claim my prize. I will taste every part of your young, supple body, until I am drunk on you. He leaned back in his chair, smiling contently for the first time in weeks. After all the humiliation, all the stress, he finally had something to look forward to. Valeriya and Pavel's licences had been approved by the Russian Ministry, and although it had only cost him an afternoon and a hundred Galleons, the gratitude she had displayed in her letter had been overwhelming. She was quite taken with him, if her own words were to be believed, and this pleased Corban immensely. Perhaps, I will visit her tomorrow. It's been so long since I was intimate with a woman. I can hardly contain my-…

A knock at the door interrupted his fantasies of the young witch, and he promptly hid her letter in his desk. "Come in."

"Forgive the intrusion, my Lord," Felix stepped inside the study, sealing the door shut behind him. "I bring news."

Corban eyed the ledger in the young wizard's hands, signalling him to take a seat. "Have all our allies arrived safely?"

"Most of them, yes," Felix nodded, sitting down and opening the ledger. "Let's see here… Ladies Crabbe, Bulstrode, and Goyle are here, they're already setting up in the east wing. Lord Rowle has dropped off his daughter-"

"Dropped her off?" Corban frowned. "He just came and went?" Without even speaking to me? "Does he think I'm his daughter's caretaker, now, that I'll be the father he refuses to be?"

"Lady Anastasia has already taken to caring for her," Felix offered, but the older wizard remained displeased. "My Lord, please don't make mountains out of molehills. We can't afford infighting, not at this time." …He's right. I know he's right, but-… Bloody Thorfinn Rowle… That man is as dull as stone…

"Continue with your report." I need relief, or I'm going to explode. It's like every tiny setback threatens to set me off, now. I'm constantly on edge, and I can't stand it any longer.

"Lord Bulstrode is arriving tonight, he needed to make certain arrangements regarding his 'mining operations'. Lord Nott will be arriving with him, it seems."

"Good, good," Corban nodded. "I cannot stand that old fool, but he is one of us. We can't leave him behind to be torn apart by the vultures." He then drew in a sharp breath, looking into his ward's eyes. "What of Dolohov? Is he… comfortable… here?"

Felix visibly tensed, giving a curt nod. "He has-… He's taken over the dungeon, my Lord. Says that he prefers the quiet… But um… My Lord…" What is it?

"Speak, boy, we are alone here."

"He has asked for… 'test subjects'…" Felix whispered, paling. Gods have mercy!

"…Fuck…" Corban pinched his eyes, curling forward. "…How many?"

"I-… I didn't ask… Forgive me-"

"No, Felix, don't-… Don't apologize… Our guest is most unusual, and you cannot be blamed for that. I will speak with him myself. It's vital that we keep him… occupied." Felix just stared at him, as if he couldn't find his voice. "You have questions about him, don't you?"

"…Why is he here, my Lord?" the young wizard muttered, sounding fearful. "Hogwarts is going to close in a fortnight, and Lysandra-… My Lord, I don't think it's a good idea to have children living near that man…"

"That makes two of us," Corban laughed mirthlessly, massaging his forehead. "You might not believe this, but Dolohov is the one in charge of this house. Not me."

"…Pardon?"

"We are his hostages, Felix… All of us… He blames me, and Thorfinn, and Robert, and Cornelius, and even you, for abandoning him and the Dark Lord. He's not here because he wants to be with his people. A man like him… A monster… He has no people. He's here because he wants to observe us, and if he detects even a hint of disloyalty towards the Dark Lord, he will kill all of us. Even the children." If we're lucky, that is. If not… Then, I will kill you and Lysandra myself… I will not let that evil bastard have my children… I just won't…

Felix swallowed thickly, his mouth hanging open. "…Oh…"

"I… don't want to burden you, but I-… I need you, son… I need your mind-"

"Say no more, my Lord," his ward interrupted, steeling himself. "Whatever you need, I'll deliver."

Corban managed a weak smile, feeling some of the burden ease off of his shoulders. "…Thank you. Once our children are here, you will be in charge of them. You and Anastasia, I mean. Keep them away from Dolohov at all costs."

"What of Lord Nott's son?" Felix asked. "Lord Nott will not appreciate someone like me taking his son and heir-"

"He won't say a damn thing, trust me," Corban promised. "He might be old, but his memory is strong. We've seen Dolohov do things that-…" There's no need to frighten him needlessly. "Cornelius won't stop you. The children will be your responsibility. Anastasia will provide for them, but she often falls ill and requires ample rest. I need you to step up and protect our future."

"I won't fail you, my Lord."

"…I know," Corban whispered to himself. "Don't mention your-… Just stay away from Dolohov… If he grows an interest in your brain, you just might lose it." For now, I will let him think that he's broken me, that he has the upper hand on me, but, one day soon, I will kill him for laying hands on Anastasia. I will put him down like the mad dog he is, I swear it upon my father's grave! Pureblood, or not, my family is off-limits!

---

Arthur Weasley's POV

Saturday 12th June, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Afternoon)

"What's your business here?" the sharp-toothed wizard asked, making Arthur rethink his decision to come here. "I don't have all day, bald man. Answer the question."

"I'm here to see Sebastian," Arthur answered, drawing in a sharp breath. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Jürgen eyed the Weasley patriarch as if he were meat, much to the man's discomfort, before letting out a blood-curdling laugh. "No, that won't be a problem. He's in his study, drunk as a skunk." Drunk? In the middle of the day? That doesn't sound like Sebastian at all. "If you can get him out of there, I'd appreciate it. Working for drunks is never… profitable."

Arthur gave a curt nod, taking his leave of the frightening mercenary without delay. Why wasn't I greeted by the Elves? Or, Mary? What is going on here? Why did Daphne sound so desperate to stay with Molly and I during the holidays? There were a hundred other questions plaguing his mind, but the most threatening one was about the Centaur Tribe that had suddenly vacated their sacred land after a few meetings with Sebastian himself.

"Sebastian is a murderer, whereas Mary is his greatest accomplice," Ron's voice echoed inside his head, it had kept him up for several nights since he'd heard it. "When the time comes, they will need to be dealt with." What are you planning, now, Ron? "We can't let them escape."

Arthur exhaled harshly; he was sick of guessing. He needed answers, and, today, he was going to get them directly from the Basilisk's mouth. Arriving at the study, he knocked on the door, but there was no answer from the other side.

"Sebastian? It's Arthur. Are you in there?" He waited, and waited, and waited, but the silence persisted. "Sebastian… Your eldest sent me a letter, and I think you need to see it. Something's wrong, and-"

The lock clicked, and the door opened ever-so-slowly. Arthur entered cautiously, the sharp smell of brandy was heavy enough to burn his nostrils, but he pushed onwards and spotted Sebastian sitting by the fireplace, his head hanging low and several empty, crystal bottles scattered around his chair. Merlin's Beard… What the fuck is this? Sebastian? What's happened to you?

"…Is my daughter hurt?" Sebastian croaked, his voice cracking due to not being used for days.

"…No," Arthur replied, stepping further into the study. "Sebastian, what's going-?"

"Show me the letter," the pale man extended his arm back, and Arthur placed the letter in his hand. "Sit."

Arthur looked about the study, it was in absolute disarray, which was surprising given Sebastian's meticulous nature. There were books that resembled romance novels littering most of the floor, their covers and pages torn as if a wild dog had attacked them. Best not to comment on it. Something is clearly very wrong in this house, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. He lifted one of the chairs and sat it upright, before planting himself on it and waiting for Sebastian to finish reading Daphne's letter. Mary must not be here. She would never let Sebastian drink himself stupid like this.

"…Do you need me to pay for her and Astoria?" Sebastian eventually asked, causing Arthur's temper to flare up.

"Pay for them? Do I look like a nanny to you?" Arthur frowned deeply. "Molly and I are happy to house them, and from what I'm seeing, we have no choice in the matter. Sebastian… What is this? Where is Mary? What are you doing?"

"…Mary left me…" the dishevelled man answered, his shirt and pants stained and dirty.

"Left you?" Arthur muttered, wide-eyed. "What happened?"

"Don't… Just don't," Sebastian shot a scathing look back, causing Arthur to stiffen up. "You think I'm stupid, do you? He told you, didn't he? That boy of yours… He told you everything. I know he did. I saw the look on your face when I visited him in St. Mungo's. The contempt… The questions and accusations bubbling under the surface… You're not a very hard man to read, Arthur."

The Weasley patriarch nodded to himself, straightening his back. "Well? Is it true? Did you really do it?"

"…I did."

Arthur released a shaky breath, lost for words. Gods damn you, Sebastian… You killed children for a piece of land… How could you? What kind of man are you? I trusted you with my son, and you were hiding this in your closet? What the fuck am I supposed to do, now?!

"I've destroyed my family, Arthur," Sebastian suddenly whimpered. "The man I was… The man I am… I destroyed it all…" He then looked back, his face resembling a corpse. "What happens, now? Will you report me to the Aurors?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Arthur asked heatedly. "Merlin's Beard… Merlin's fucking Beard, Sebastian… I-… I don't even-… What the fuck am I-…?" He shook his head, his palm finding his wrinkled forehead. "You ate with my family. You sat at our dinner table. My children were-… Ron was-…" He swallowed thickly. "…I can't believe this…" It's too much for me. It's just too much. "…You have to turn yourself in. If you don't do it, then I will."

"You do that, and I'm a dead man," Sebastian told him. "If the Dementors don't kill me, the Dark Lord will. He proved that Azkaban isn't out of his reach, remember? And, if I die, my wife and daughters will be left alone in this world. Will you protect them, Arthur? When I'm gone, will you take responsibility for them?"

"Will you?" he asked in response, gesturing to the numerous empty bottles. "Why did you do it? Didn't you have enough, already?! What was so special about that bit of land?!"

"…Nothing, particularly… It was just another asset."

"…Gods… So, you did what you did just because you could?"

"…Yes."

"Then, you deserve the Dementors," Arthur spat out, sneering. "You deserve the Dark Lord."

"And what of your boy? What of Ron? What does he deserve?" Sebastian asked. I'll fucking kill you myself, you bastard! You say his name again, and I'll strangle you!

"Don't you bring Ron into this! Don't you dare!"

"You ship me off to the Aurors, and they will comb through my memories," Sebastian explained, his voice slow and lethargic. "And they'll find things there that will condemn Ron, too." …What? "He's become too powerful too quickly, Arthur. You think that doesn't bother them? You think they don't want him brought low?"

"The Minister, you mean?" He's not wrong about that, she's desperate to get leverage on Ron. I want to believe in her vision of the Ministry, but her disdain for my son is too unjust for my liking. She's jealous of him, that's the impression I get.

"The Minister, the Officials still loyal to the Purebloods, the Aurors, the ambitious, the resentful, the petty… He's made many enemies, hasn't he?" Sebastian then looked at him, seeming a little more like his usual self. "You have mistaken me, Arthur. One of the reasons why I haven't handed myself over is because I'm still protecting Ron, even though he harbours nothing but ill will against me and my wife. For all my faults, I'm not like him. I can't just… flick a switch in my head when it comes to family. I can't write them off without hesitation, but he can."

"He's nothing like-"

"He is, and you know it," Sebastian hissed icily. "He turned on you and Molly, didn't he? He turned on Xenophilius, and Pandora, and Muriel, and Augus-… It doesn't matter… I don't need to list all their names, not for you. Deep in your heart, you know what he is. He sees this world as his personal playground, and if he deems you unworthy of existing in it, he discards you like a broken toy. I was right to be afraid of him finding out the truth, because I knew he would turn on me, as well. And… He did…"

Arthur sagged in his chair, speechless, again. Is he telling the truth? Does he really know things that could land Ron in trouble? If so, then what are they? What's Ron been up to in the shadows? I hate that this is true, but I really don't know anything about him. Not anymore. When he gave the order to Artyom, to break that young man's arms, I saw a side of him that I didn't know existed. He's dangerous… And he's not afraid of hurting other people… I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, Molly and I failed him completely. He used to be such a sweet boy-…

"Astoria is sick," Sebastian broke the silence, surprising Arthur. "Very sick. More so than Mary and I shared with you and Molly. Occasionally, you'll have to take her to St. Mungo's for her check-ups. Don't let her exert herself, please. She doesn't have many years left in her."

Arthur just stared ahead, feeling a pit form in his stomach. "…Is it really that bad?"

"It is."

As a parent of a sick child himself, Arthur couldn't help but empathise. "…I'll tell Molly to keep Astoria close. She'll be safe at the Burrow; you have my word."

"You're a good man, Arthur," Sebastian whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry for whatever part I played in turning Ron into what he is. I would take it all back, if I could, but all the gold in the world can't change the past."

Feeling spent, Arthur rose out of the chair and headed for the door. "…These things that Ron's supposedly done… What are they?"

"I've already betrayed him once… Don't expect me to do it, again. You can go ask him yourself, but I don't recommend it. You don't want to lose what little love he has left for you, do you?" …No… But I have to know… Not only as his father, but as the father of his siblings. "If Astoria asks after me, tell her I'm… away on business…"

"I'm not going to lie to a little girl for someone like you," Arthur turned around, his expression blank. "If you won't turn yourself in, then the least you can do is make amends."

"Amends?" Sebastian looked to him, curious.

"Whatever Ron's crimes; he's saved a lot of lives with nothing but sheer will. Imagine the good you could accomplish if you set your mind to it. All the gold in the world can't change the past, I agree, but it can certainly change the future. Maybe, it can even win back the love of your family… Or, you can keep drinking yourself to death, which won't help anyone, least of all you." Why do I still care about him? I shouldn't, but seeing him like this… It feels wrong… "Whatever you decide to do, though, stay away from me and my family. Stay away from my boy. I don't want to catch you whispering your poison in his ear ever again. I'll kill you with my bare hands if I do, count on it."

---

Saturday 12th June, 1994 (Headmaster's Office – Evening)

If it wasn't Ron, it was one of his other children…

"Do you have something you want to say to the Headmaster, you two?" Arthur asked the twins, more disappointed than angry. I can't believe this! Their O. W. Ls start on Monday, and this is what they've been up to?

"We're sorry," George apologized sincerely, whereas Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fred Weasley!" Molly hissed, slapping the boy's thigh.

"Ow, mum!" Fred whined immediately. "At least, take off your ring, first!"

"Fred," Arthur brought out his stern voice, giving the teenager a warning look. "You apologize, and you do it right now."

"…Sorry for trying to bring some laughter to this-"

"Fred!" Molly raised her hand, again, making him flinch.

"Molly, that's enough," Arthur stopped his wife, shaking his head at Fred. "Headmaster, whatever punishment you're thinking of, Molly and I agree with it. But, please, just don't suspend them… Their O. W. Ls-"

"I will not suspend them, Arthur, and Minerva is in charge of their punishment," Dumbledore started, he wasn't his usual merry self. "However, this will be my final warning to your sons." Final warning? "I generally enjoy their antics, it's true, but Ronald suffered a minor concussion-" Molly slapped Fred's thigh, again, harder than before. "Please, there is no need for that. Whether Fred admits it or not, I know he regrets how poorly his prank turned out. Peeves can be downright dangerous when he's riled up, and I'm certain the twins will appreciate that in the future."

"We will, Sir, we promise," George nodded fervently. At least, I can always count on him to take responsibility. Fred, though… Merlin, when is he going to grow up?

"Ronald was quite lenient with them, showing immense maturity about the entire sordid affair," Dumbledore continued. "Now, I understand if you want to keep this within the family, but had they targeted another student, their parents would get involved and it would result in a suspension, at the very least. Hogwarts is a place of learning, and my staff and I have promised every parent their child's safety. I cannot allow your sons, in good conscience, to jeopardise that promise. It's one thing to cause inconvenience, it's another to cause injury."

"They won't do this again, Headmaster," Arthur promised, deeply embarrassed. "I will speak with them, and whatever punishment Minerva is putting them through, Molly and I will continue it in the holidays."

"What?! Dad!" Fred looked horrified. "You can't!"

"Oh, yes, he can!" Molly snapped, red in the face. "Shame on you both! Shame! Your own brother?! In front of the entire school?!" I should intervene before she throttles one of them.

"Fred, not another word out of you," Arthur warned, his jaw clenching. "I can't even begin to describe how disappointed I am in you two. Ron is sick, and instead of supporting him, you're still playing your jokes on him? This won't happen, again! Do you understand me?!" The twins averted their gaze, knowing that it took a great transgression for their father to raise his voice. "You will thank the Headmaster for his leniency, and you will apologize to Ron for hurting him. There is no discussion to be had on this matter. Now, start with the Headmaster… Go on, now!"

"Thank you, Sir," George muttered, shifting in his seat.

"…Thanks…" Fred grumbled, sulking.

"You may return to Gryffindor Tower," Dumbledore said calmly, his expression unreadable. "I've asked Minerva to give you two a break during your O. W. Ls, but she fully intends to continue your punishment in the final week."

The twins shuffled out of the office, leaving their parents behind to clean up their mess.

"…I'm so sorry, Headmaster," Molly managed, her hands clenched into fists under the table. "I try so hard with them, but they never listen to me. I'm sorry."

"What is Minerva making them do?" Arthur asked.

"She has them cleaning the castle alongside Mr. Filch," Dumbledore replied. "Without their Magic."

"They'll be cleaning the Burrow, then," Arthur vowed. "Every single day."

"Might I suggest explaining to them what they did wrong? Instead of punishing them until they grow resentful?" Dumbledore advised, though he phrased it as a question. "Children can be quite foolish, especially teenagers. I have some experience with them, you see. The twins are wilful and immature, so they will not respond well to an extensive punishment. Instead, they must be made to understand the importance of regulating one's emotions."

"…We've tried everything with them…" Molly whispered, letting out a tired breath. "I'm at my wits end with them, Headmaster. It's like everything I say goes into one ear and then out the other."

"Speak to them separately," Dumbledore suggested, smiling softly. "George seems to understand his mistake better than Fred. Perhaps, he can be used to convince his twin?"

"That's… not a bad idea," Arthur looked to Molly, who gave a curt nod. "Thank you, Headmaster. We'll talk to them, and we promise, this won't happen, again." I keep saying that, but can I really be so sure of it? The twins… We've never been able to keep them in check. "You mentioned that Ron showed immense maturity?" I'm surprised he didn't break their arms.

"I did, yes."

"…I see…" Arthur found that hard to believe, and Dumbledore picked up on his doubts.

"He was humiliated in front of hundreds of students, in front of his friends, and yet, he chose the high road," Dumbledore lost his smile, his gaze hardening. "In his shoes, could you do the same?"

Arthur blinked, suddenly feeling a little intimidated. "…I um… That was very mature of him… I agree…"

Dumbledore just stared at him, those piercing blue eyes causing sweat to break out on Arthur's forehead, before the old wizard suddenly smiled. What just happened?! "Good deeds should be rewarded, I believe. If they're not, then children no longer see worth in them. And, when that happens, terrible tragedies begin to unfold." …Right… Arthur could do little but nod, whereas Molly looked confused by Dumbledore's strange statement. "Now, if there is nothing else, I will bid you both a good evening."

Arthur went to stand up, but Molly remained stuck to her seat. "Can we… see Ron? Could you summon him up here, please? I'm sorry for asking this out of the blue, but I haven't had a chance to see him since he left St. Mungo's."

Dumbledore looked between them, leaning back in his chair. "He did not owl you, I see." Owl us? About what? "Ronald has left Hogwarts early."

"He has?" Molly's mouth dropped open.

"I approved his leave myself," Dumbledore told them.

"Without consulting us?" Arthur asked, taken aback. "Headmaster… We are his parents! You can't just send him on his way without us being a part of that conversation!" What is going on between you and my son? You travel all the way to the States to help him? You open an orphanage with him? Fawkes answers his calls and serves his whims? You let him come and go from this castle as he pleases? Without supervision, even?

Why was it that the more he learned about Ron, the higher the pile of questions became? Why was his youngest son the biggest mystery in his life? And what exactly was Dumbledore's relationship with the boy?

"You are right, Arthur, it was incredibly irresponsible of me," Dumbledore said calmly, still smiling. "I am sorry." Sorry? I don't think you are sorry, not one bit!

"…He's gone to that cottage of his," Molly turned to Arthur, who could not stop himself from glaring at the old wizard. "Arthur? Are you listening to me?" What was Sebastian hinting at about Ron? Does Dumbledore know? If so, then why hasn't he told us anything? What's he playing at? "Arthur?!"

"…Thaddeus would've written to us, Molly," he said shortly, forcing himself to fix his expression.

"Unless, Ronald asked him not to," Dumbledore pointed out.

"Why would he do that?" Arthur asked in response.

"Why, indeed?" What's that supposed to mean?! "As his parents, it is only natural to want to know his whereabouts at all times. However-"

"There is no 'however'… I'm his father, not you," Arthur cut Dumbledore off, causing the old man to raise an eyebrow. "You don't make that decision for us."

"…Arthur…" Molly muttered in disbelief. "…Mind who you're talking to, love…"

His wife's voice pulled him back, causing him to flush a little. "…Forgive me, Headmaster, I-"

"There is nothing to forgive," Dumbledore raised a hand, a look of understanding on his face. "I should've made sure that he wrote to you before departing. It was an oversight on my part, and I will do better in the future." I'm losing it… This is Dumbledore… He's not some villain plotting in the shadows, helping Ron commit untold crimes… What's the matter with me? Sebastian really got under my bloody skin, didn't he?

"We'll um… We'll go and find him, now," Arthur stood up, scratching the back of his neck. "Good evening, Headmaster. Molly, let's go."

"Arthur-"

"Come along, now." I doubt I'll be able to convince him to come home, but I still want to see him, just to make sure he's all right. And, maybe, if I'm lucky, I could finally get some answers out of him.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 12th June, 1994 (Prosperity Farm – Evening)

He raised the glistening meat up with his fork, studying it and smiling contently. Hippogriff steak… Why is it illegal in so many countries when it's so damn delicious?

"I'm surprised you can still eat after our date, boss," London chuckled, thoroughly amused. "You're a ravenous one, you are."

Ron's eyes veered off the bite of meat, and towards his companion's heavy boots, which were resting atop the white clothed table. They'd spent the entire day together, going from shop to shop, and now, they were sitting together on the balcony of the barracks, overlooking Artyom dominate in a friendly wrestling competition.

"Must you put your feet there? I'm eating, London," Ron sighed out, his eyes travelling along her long legs. "Not that I mind the view, of course, but it does seem a tad bit… unsanitary."

"You love it!" the ebony witch laughed, tugging at her fishnet stockings. "You've any idea how many lads your age would give anything to see these sexy legs up close?"

"I imagine there's quite a few of them," Ron answered plainly, thinking of Daphne and the outfit she'd been wearing during their last meeting. "Did you enjoy our date?"

"Let's just say that no bloke I've ever dated has treated me that well," London said melodramatically, before laughing, again. "Seriously, though, boss… You spoil me. A massage, a fancy meal, ice cream, clothes, nail polishes and lipsticks… I can't remember the last time I had so much fun!" In the end, I ended up buying her new things. I couldn't really find anything that I wanted, or needed. Maybe next time, I'll be luckier.

"I'm glad you came along, then," Ron smiled earnestly, popping the meat into his mouth. Oh! So good! It just fucking melts!

"Why'd you shake the ice cream maker's hand, though? That was a bit… strange."

"Mr. Fortescue?"

"Yeah, him… I mean, he let us taste all the flavours for free, sure, but going into the back and shaking his hand? That was an odd thing to do." Perhaps, it was, but I felt compelled to. I made the Headmaster a promise, after all.

"Twenty years he's spent perfecting those flavours of his," Ron started, leaning back in his chair. "Twenty years… That's longer than I've been alive, London. The sheer dedication to his craft… I found it most admirable. And, when I asked him how he remained so committed, he told me that the smiles of his patrons kept him going." London's lips quirked upwards at that. "How many people has he served over the years, you reckon? Must be thousands and thousands, each of them finding joy in his creations. That man makes this world a better place, and for that, I had to shake his hand." People like him are why I should fight, instead of fighting for the hell of it.

"You… are the weirdest lad in the world!" London burst into hysterical laughter, making him snort. "Just the fucking weirdest!"

"I hear that more often than I care to admit." Nina said the same thing when I asked her for a handshake, but then she hugged me right after.

London slowly regained herself, her fingers running through her green mohawk. "Still, despite your weirdness, I wish you'd hired us sooner."

"You do?"

"Damn right, I do!" London exclaimed, grinning. "Me. The captain. The others. All of us. We love it here. And you might lose your shit every now and then, but you treat us well. And you've got us helping people, for a change. That's a nice little bonus to this whole arrangement. I don't feel like a piece of shit every time I lie down to sleep, so thanks for that."

"Worked for some shitty clients, eh?"

"Some? Try too many, and no, I'm not going to tell you about them. The Death's Hand takes confidentiality very seriously." Damn.

"Well, I hope I can keep being a-" Ron started, but was interrupted by a sudden rise in the shouting below.

He looked down to see Artyom lifting a grown man over his head, before slamming him down into the mud. Merlin's saggy sac! London shot out of her seat and looked over the edge, gritting her teeth.

"If you kill them, how they are supposed to go on tonight's patrol?!" London snapped at her captain, who grimaced and shrugged in response. "…Bloody brute…"

"Is this a common occurrence?" Ron asked, taking another bite. I'd have this every day if I could. Shame it's so expensive.

"The roughhousing?" London asked, returning to her seat. "Yeah, it's a good bit of fun. And it helps release stress. You want to join in?"

"No, I have an image to maintain," Ron shrugged, feeling a bit left out. "I just think it's interesting, that's all. My brothers and I… We used to wrestle a lot, and our little sister would always jump in to throw some sneaky punches. It was… a lot of fun." I remember when Ginny punched Bill in the bollocks so hard that he teared up. She was a proper menace, my Gin-Gin. "London, can I ask you for a favour?"

"Shoot, boss."

"I want to go swimming in the lake, tonight," Ron started, drawing in a deep breath. "Starkers."

"Is that so?" London smiled teasingly. "Sure, I'll join you." What?! No!

"I need you to make sure that no one is patrolling the lake," Ron said a little too quickly. "I um… I don't want people thinking that I'm some sort of pervert. It's just that there's a creek near my childhood home, and I enjoyed relaxing in-"

"You don't need to explain anything to me," London raised a hand, her smile becoming even more mischievous. "A man's got to let his dangly bits breathe every now and then, I get it." …I don't think you do… "I'll make sure the lake is clear between midnight and one. Sound good?" An hour? I can work with that!

"Thank you."

"You sure you don't want me to join you, though?" London leaned forward, winking suggestively. "I promise, you'll have a lot more fun with me there." W-What sort of fun?

Ron stared at her, wondering if she really would join him starkers if he asked. "…I'm a boy and you're a girl. It wouldn't be appropriate."

London cackled like a Hag, much to his embarrassment. …I'm an idiot, is what I am… "You're so cute! I could just eat you up!"

"…Thanks."

A loud whistle emanated from below, attracting Ron's attention. What is it, now? Has Artyom broken someone's neck? He looked down and immediately spotted his parents, Arthur was waving for his attention whereas Molly was gawking at the obscene scene before her. What are they doing here? If they've come to nag me about returning to the Burrow, I'll have Artyom put them in a headlock.

"Bring them to me," Ron ordered, deciding to finish his steak before his parents could moan about it.

London left without delay, leaving him to wolf down his evening snack with none of the reverence it deserved. It's not illegal in Magical Britain, but it is frowned upon. Funny… Killing a mindless beast and eating it is wrong, but leaving children to whore themselves out in Knockturn Alley is perfectly acceptable. Humans… Their priorities are so fucked up. Thank Merlin I'm not one of them, anymore. It was just too bloody embarrassing.

"Control yourself," Ron whispered, drawing in a deep breath. "You promised Daphne you'd try harder."

"…raised the perfect gentleman, Mrs. Weasley," came London's voice, before she returned to the balcony with his parents in tow. "And don't you worry, I'll be taking very, very good care of your boy." What the…? Thank you for that. Thank you so much.

Molly glared daggers at the mercenary, critically eyeing her 'punk' attire. "He doesn't need some immoral thief-"

"She's only winding you up, mum," Ron sighed out, leaning back in his chair. "She thinks it's funny to get a reaction out of people, that's all." He then looked to London, waving a dismissive hand. "Leave us."

"Sure thing, boss," London smiled impishly, strutting over and planting a drawn-out kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a mark of black lipstick. "I'll see you later tonight, stud." Why are you like this? Who hurt you?

Ron rolled his eyes, waiting until London had left before he spoke. "Sit down, please. Are you hungry? I can ask the Elves to make you whatever you like."

"What is going on between you and that… that harlot, Ronald Weasley?!" Molly demanded, and once again, Ron drew in a deep breath. Always shouting, always making a fuss… She must be really bored with her life to seek drama everywhere she goes. Well, not here, mum, not today. I'm in too good a mood to let you spoil it.

"I told you, she was winding you up," he reminded her. "This lot… Their sense of humour is an acquired taste."

"She was just teasing, dear," Arthur said soothingly, pulling out a seat for his wife. "I've spoken to some of her people before, and Ron's right… They're a strange bunch, all of them."

"…Clearly," Molly huffed, giving the fighting pit below a look of disgust.

"What brings you here, dad?" Ron asked, putting on a friendly smile. "Did Thaddeus owl you?"

"No, we um… Dumbledore summoned us to talk about the twins…" Arthur trailed off. "How are you feeling, Ron? I heard they did a number on you this time." This time? Try every time, not that you really care.

"As you can see, I'm doing just fine," Ron reassured them, ignoring his mother's sorry expression. "As a matter of fact, I'm doing great. The twins ended up giving me a chance to conquer my own weakness, so, in a weird way, I'm grateful to them." I can control my rage. I'm certain of it, now. It's awfully hard, but it's not impossible.

"You did the right thing letting them stay at Hogwarts," Arthur commended, smiling gratefully. "I know they don't always play nice with you, but they're your brothers. That's important." Is it? Because I'm starting to question that type of thinking. Blood is… just blood. There's nothing special about it at all. And I would know, I've spilled quite a lot of it.

"…Of course, dad," Ron kept up his smile. "Loyalty is important to me." Shouldn't it be earned, though? Why should it be readily available to useless cretins simply because they slithered out of the same cunt? How does that make any sense?

"Why didn't you come home, Ron?" Molly asked, leaning forward to catch his gaze. "You should be with your family, instead of here… Living amongst these… criminals…"

"Are you talking about the mercenaries? Or, the Werewolves?" Ron had to ask, just to be clear.

"…The mercenaries, obviously," Molly clarified quickly. "Thaddeus and his people, they've got good hearts, but-"

"The mercenaries don't?" Ron finished for her, and she gave a soft nod.

His eyes travelled to the fighting pit, landing on the bare-chested Artyom. Yasemin and Katya… He sobbed as he spoke their names inside that wretched mountain. Yuri, Yasemin, and Katya… A family ripped apart by the war, no different from so many others. He is the ghost of Yuri, now, living only because it's a habit. But, maybe, London's right… Maybe, he does love it here. Maybe, he's found his purpose, again, because of the Champion. Because of me.

"Ron? What is it?" Arthur called out, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"…I'm happy here, you two," Ron looked to them, smiling honestly. "It's beautiful and tranquil, everyone I see is kind to me, and they all pitch in to look out for me just as I look out for them. I came back here because this is where I want to be. If that upsets you, then I'm sorry, but that's your problem to deal with. I have a right to be happy too, don't I? To enjoy some peace?" Molly and Arthur exchanged looks, visibly saddened. Remember your promise, old boy. "You know where to find me, though. I'm happy to drop by and spend time with you, if you'll have me."

"Of course, we'll have you," Molly said hurriedly, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers. "We might not like your decision, but we'll respect it. Just… keep your distance from that green-haired witch, okay? Promise me you will." Is she still stuck on that?!

"Mum-"

"I know women like her, Ron. They take advantage of young, successful men such as yourself, and I know that, at your age, it's very hard to resist your… urges-"

"Mum, please!"

"Love, Ron isn't so easily manipulated," Arthur cut in, looking put off. Thank you! "And he's one of our more responsible children, remember? I'm sure he'll think with his head, instead of his… Well, head…"

"…Set the Entity loose, mate, it's time," Ron gave the order for his own execution, grimacing. I want to die right now. Make it as painful as possible, please.

"Set what loose?" Molly blinked. "What's this… Entity?"

"…It's nothing… Please, stop being gross. Just stop it."

"Gross? Ronnie, we're just trying to teach you a valuable lesson, that's all!"

"It is important, Ron, and you ought to listen, even though I know you'll be careful," his father tried to play the middle man, as he often did. "Plenty of witches tried to trap me at your age, but I was lucky that your mother got to me, first."

"Got to you? Excuse me?!" a murderous look flashed across her face, causing Arthur to go deathly pale.

"…But I said I was lucky…" the man whimpered.

"You're the one who constantly wanted to 'go on walks' with me, in case you've forgotten! And we both know how those walks always ended!" Oh, fuck no! Oh, why?! Why did she put that image in my head?!

Ron stared up at the sky, searching for Fate. "What are you bored up there? Is that it?"

"Are you sure you've recovered from that concussion, Ron?" Arthur asked, following his gaze. "What are you looking at?"

"…Got to him, he says…" Molly grumbled to herself. "…The nerve…"

"…Molly, you know I always struggle with my words-…"

"Lunch tomorrow!" Ron burst in, deciding that he'd had enough of their company for today. "What do you two say? At the Burrow? Call over Xeno and Pandora? Little baby Lysander?"

"Molly?" Arthur looked to his wife, and she tersely nodded her agreement. "All right, let's do it, then." Please, leave now. Don't say any more things I don't want to hear. "We can spend some time together in my shed after, Ron. How's that sound?" He's inviting me to his shed? Why? What's he up to?

Ron studied the man's eager eyes, his father definitely wanted something from him. "…Sure, why not? Sounds like fun."

---

Sunday 13th June, 1994 (The Burrow – Afternoon)

"He wants your nose, I think," Pandora chuckled, watching Ron as he rocked the baby in his arms.

"Do you, now?" Ron lowered his head slightly, grinning at the reaching baby. "I have plenty to share! Go right ahead!"

Lysander gurgled as he grabbed onto the tip of Ron's nose, his tiny nails digging it. OW! Ron pulled his head back with a pout, making Pandora and Xenophilius laugh. Demon baby! What was that for?!

"He does that," Xenophilius said, scratching his own nose. "Be grateful that he didn't draw blood this time around."

"You crave violence, do you?" Ron questioned Lysander, who squeeled in delight. That was definitely a yes. "Pandora, what are you teaching him, exactly?"

"I read him his father's stories before bed, nothing more," Pandora smiled, her piercing gaze studying Ron. "Stories about Dragons, and Nundus, and Manticores, and Wampus-"

"Maybe, read him something about Puffskeins, tonight?" Ron suggested with a smirk. "So, he doesn't make a habit of clawing people's faces off?"

"What do you think, husband?" Pandora asked teasingly.

"…But… Dragons…" Xenophilius whispered in an awed manner. "All boys love Dragons, don't they?"

"…You're doomed," Ron sighed to Lysander, before pulling a face. "Oh, yes, you are! Yes, you are!"

"Excuse me, everyone!" came Charlie's voice, and they all turned to see him standing at the end of the table with Kirsten. "I um… I have an announcement to make! And it's pretty big!" A big announcement, eh? Is he finally coming out to his family? I always knew… Always…

Ron turned slightly in his chair, giving Lysander a better view of the Dragon-Tamers. Arthur and Sirius stopped their conversation, as did Bill and Molly, and once all eyes were on him, Charlie grinned from ear-to-ear.

"I got a job at the Longbottom Dragon Reserve!" Charlie declared, surprising Ron more than the rest. He did? What the…?

"A job?" Molly blinked, looking between Charlie and Kirsten. "But I thought… Never mind…"

"What? What did you think?" Charlie asked cluelessly, whereas Kirsten just smiled knowingly to herself. "I got a job, mum! As a Dragon-Tamer, no less!"

"Congratulations, son!" Arthur beamed, and immediately after, the rest joined in, all of them save for Ron. This doesn't make any sense. Why would Lady Longbottom give him the job we discussed after she and I fell out? Am I still supposed to pay for it? Is she trying to rebuild our friendship? Or, is she making a move against me? Trying to show me that she has my brother where she can easily reach him? No, that's not like her at all, but then again, people can surprise you, can't they? Oh, well… There's no point in stressing about it. If she comes after me, I'll find a way to deal with-…

"Don't you want to congratulate your brother, Ron?" Pandora whispered, breaking him out of his thoughts. Right, I should do that.

"Good on you, Charlie," Ron smiled, glad that his brother was going to be doing what he loved for a living, again. "When do you start?"

"In about a month," Charlie laughed excitedly, shaking Bill's hand so hard that it made the older brother to wince. "Yeah, there's some training I need to undergo-"

"Training?" Sirius asked, bemused. "I thought you already had training, mate. Isn't that why she hired you?"

"It's just the routine," Kirsten explained. "He'll have to sit a written exam too, seeing as he hasn't worked with Dragons in a while. It's a dangerous job, so they take every precaution possible."

"Well, you two need to be careful," Molly advised. "Dragons can kill without remorse if the mood takes them."

"…Mum…" Charlie groaned. "They're not like that at all."

"…Some of them are," Kirsten muttered under her breath, scratching her neck.

"Kirsten and I know what we're doing," Charlie continued. "She's already known to most of them, and they're quite fond of her, and once I'm there, they'll see that I'm her mate and treat me accordingly." Mate? What a gross way to say boyfriend.

"We'll pretend we didn't hear that," Ron whispered to Lysander, who now seemed entirely uninterested in the world around him. "Uncle Charlie is disgusting, isn't he? And he looks like a misshapen balloon, too."

"Ron, don't whisper mean things to the baby," Molly admonished from across the table. She heard that?!

"Aunt Molly has really big ears under her-" Ron started, but stopped when his mother looked ready to smack him. "I'll tell you later, okay?" Lysander yawned, looking even more bored than before. "Pandora, I think he's getting tired."

"What's the time, Arthur?" Pandora asked.

"Twenty past two," the Weasley patriarch answered, checking his pocket watch.

"It's almost time for his nap," Pandora told Ron, reaching for Lysander. "Easy, now."

Ron carefully handed his Godson over, giving the baby a wave with his gloved hand. "I'll see you when you wake up, okay? I bought you a new suit-"

"…Ron…" Pandora sighed out. "Please stop doing that. He's already grown out of his other four-"

"This one looks exactly like the one I'm wearing, though! I want a picture of us wearing matching outfits, that's all! I want to carry that picture everywhere I go!" It'll be adorable! He'll look like the suavest baby in the world! "For the ladies, I mean!" I bet Daphne will love it!

"Ladies, eh?" Sirius chimed in, smirking. "That's actually a great idea, kid! Pandora, can I also-?"

"No," Xenophilius cut in strongly. "My son isn't going to be your bait, Sirius. We talked about this, remember? Only after he can speak, not before."

"…Damn it… I'll have to find another baby, then…" Sirius mumbled grouchily.

"Do you have this suit on you, Ron?" Pandora asked, shooting Sirius an amused look.

"I can go and get it," Ron replied. "It's at my cottage."

"Well, he'll be up in a couple of hours, and after I've fed him, we'll take that picture," Pandora promised. "But only if I get to keep a copy of it."

"Deal."

"Let's put him in Ginny's room, again, Pan," Molly stood up, leading the way. "We can always hear him from there."

Ron watched them leave in silence, his arms feeling a little too empty for his liking. He's getting heavier and heavier. Did I grow that quickly? Probably… Am I doing enough to protect him? Am I taking too long to complete my mission? I don't want him growing up in a war. I don't want him to turn out like me. He sensed that another 'stress moment' was coming, but this time, he was able to maintain his composure through his Occlumency. Rushing my plans is not the wise call, it's the foolish, sentimental one. As much as I love him, I'm not fighting for just him. I have to remember that. Mistakes cost lives, and those lives matter just as much as his. The Champion can't play favourites, that would be unfair.

"Ron? Can I have a moment?" Arthur suddenly asked, and the Slytherin gave an absentminded nod. Clear your head. You're a river, remember? Just keep flowing forward.

Ron followed his father outside, ignoring Bill's lingering gaze along the way. He's been eyeballing me whenever he thinks I'm not paying attention. I'm sure he'll eventually reveal why, but until then, I'm just going to ignore him. Instead, I need to focus on dad, because he's obviously up to something.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Arthur asked, leading the way towards the shed. "Maybe, we should've had lunch outside?" What's he after? He's nervous, I can see it clear as day.

"We've got plenty of freckles, already, don't we?" Ron joked, though his expression remained entirely mirthless. "No need to push our luck."

"You're right, I suppose," Arthur chuckled, rubbing the top of his balding head. "Don't have as much protection as I used to." Protection…

Ron stopped, eyeing the shed with suspicion. My gut is telling me that he's up to something, and I should trust it. "Dad, what is this? Why are we going to your shed?"

"I… want to show you something I found, that's all," Arthur turned out, smiling anxiously. Don't try and play games with me. Don't ever think you're even capable of that.

"I have no interest in your Muggle garbage," Ron reminded the man, putting on a practiced smile. "Let's talk out here, eh? The sun feels nice on my skin, and it's just us two. This is private enough."

Arthur looked back towards his shed, before letting out a resigned sigh. "…I'm not trying to trick you, son… You've become far too paranoid…"

"Can't argue that," Ron shrugged. "Well? What's on your mind? Talk to me."

Arthur brandished his wand, waving it overhead in a circular motion. A Silencing Charm? "Right… Let's start, then… I spoke with Sebastian, Ron, and-"

"How is he?" Ron interrupted, curious. "Daphne mentioned that Mary's left him. It must be… difficult for him to manage without her." I hope he's suffering like a gutted dog.

"He's in a lot of pain, son," Arthur answered sombrely, and Ron fought the urge to start laughing. Good! This is exactly what I wanted to hear! "When I met him, he was wearing dirty clothes and was too drunk to even stand up. It was… not a pretty sight…" So, dad feels sorry for that greedy twat, does he? Why am I not surprised? He's just too soft. "You were right about him, though. He um… He attacked that tribe, just like you said-"

"He didn't 'attack' them, he killed them. Say it like it is, dad. He killed their children, and he destroyed their home. And for what? More gold?"

"I told him to turn himself in, but he refused," Arthur sighed out. Of course, he did. "He doesn't want to leave his daughters, and… Well, I understand why… He loves his children…" The Centaurs loved their children too. "But he said something else that caught my attention… Something that I can't get out of my head… It was about you, Ron." Did he tell dad about the Carrow Twin slaughter? Well, this is a risk I was aware of when I told dad to look into his crimes.

"What did he say?" Ron asked, waiting patiently.

"He said that he couldn't turn himself over because the Aurors would comb through his memories, and in those memories, they'd find incriminating information about you. He said he was trying to protect you." He's trying to protect me? How… peculiar. "He wouldn't say what this information was, though. He told me to ask you about it."

"…I see," Ron nodded, turning around and grinning to himself. He's not making a move, is he? He doesn't need to. He knows what I did, and he knows that he can use it to destroy me. He's sending me a message through dad here. Clever. This is a peace offering, it is. He goes his way, and I go mine. No need for us both to tear each other down. Sadly, he just doesn't get it. I'll do whatever it takes to destroy him, even if I have to murder every Auror in this country to get to him. He's no different from Lucius fucking Malfoy… Hurting people's children because his pride was threatened. I won't let either of them escape, no matter how far they run.

"Ron? Look at me right now. I want to know what Sebastian was talking about. No more secrets. I want to know if you've done something that could get you into trouble with the Ministry."

Ron turned back around with a soft smile, shrugging. "I stole treasures from Hogwarts, dad."

"…What?" Arthur blinked.

"There's this room in Hogwarts… Everything that people misplace inside the castle ends up there," Ron explained. "The Room of Hidden Things, it's called. You might've heard of it."

"It does ring a bell, yes…"

"I found it, and within it, I found treasures," Ron stated plainly. "Long forgotten treasures, and I took them for myself. Put them in my vault at Gringotts. It's how I became immensely wealthy so quickly. It's how I went from begging Daphne for help, to paying her back and even setting up vaults from my siblings. It wasn't Sebastian Greengrass who gifted me the gold I showed mum, it all came from my theft." Will he buy it? It's not a lie, so he-…

"Merlin's Beard, Ron!" Got him. "How could you do something like that?! I didn't raise a thief! What were you thinking?!" Arthur hid his face behind his hands, his fingers digging into his forehead. "…Just what were you thinking? Did you really want to be rich so badly?" Be rich? Who cares about being rich? That's not good enough for a man like me, not anymore. I care about being powerful, and being rich is just a small part of that most noble endeavour.

"I was thinking about all the people I could help if I had the advantages my friends have," Ron replied honestly, seeing no point in appeasing the man. "Daphne lent me a thousand Galleons, and although it helped me save the Quibbler, to her it was nothing… Spare change under the sofa… A thousand Galleons… Think about that for a second."

"I don't have to," Arthur fumed, pulling his hands away and glaring at his youngest son. "I don't envy my own friends! I thought you were better than this! Wiser than this! How can you stand there and justify robbery?!"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Yes, you do! I'm your father!"

"Really? Are you trapped inside a star in a different Universe?" Ron chuckled icily, causing Arthur's expression to become confused and wary. "Good intentions don't change the world, only power can do that. You know it. I know it. Everyone with half a brain knows it. In the time since I committed 'robbery', I've helped make this world a better place, and I go to sleep proud knowing that I have the means to continue doing so." He then turned to leave, not wanting this argument to escalate. "Be upset all you like, I don't care. I have too much work to do."

"…You have to return it, Ron. This is not the right-"

"Just stop it, all right?" Ron said dismissively, walking away. "Go tell the Aurors if it bothers you so much. I don't care much for grown men bleating in my ear." Someday, he'll learn of my other crimes, but for now, I've bought myself more time. Eventually, the truth will come out, but until then, the work must continue unimpeded.

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Monday 14th June, 1994 (The Girls' Dorm – After Breakfast)

"Are you sure you don't want some, Pans?" Daphne called out from her bed, interrupting the raven-haired witch's thoughts. "There's plenty to share."

Pansy sat up lethargically, her unhappy gaze landing on the tub of peanut-butter and strawberry ice cream sitting beside Daphne. They're not even dating, and he sends her treats and presents, whereas my actual boyfriend won't even ask me how I'm feeling. Life is so not fair! What was I thinking asking 'Nervous Neville', of all people, out? He's useless!

"…I don't think Ron would like it if you shared his gift with me," Pansy sulked, hugging her knees. He said goodbye to everyone, but when he got to me, he just walked away… He can be such a mean, petty prat!

"Don't be like that," Daphne smiled sympathetically. "I already told you that he's going to come around on your birthday, didn't I? Plus, this is my ice cream, and I can share it with whomever I like. Ron doesn't get a say in that."

Pansy wanted to refuse, but she had always loved cold strawberries. "…What about Trace and Theo?"

Both girls looked towards Tracey's curtained bed, wondering what the new couple were up to. They've been snogging every day, basically. I'm happy for them, but I feel like Theo is hogging her to himself. We all missed her, and we all want to spend time with her. And Theo's not the only one who wants to kiss her. I should just burst in there and snog them both! That'll teach them!

"I'll make the offer once they're done," Daphne sniggered, gesturing Pansy to come over. "You know you want it. It's delicious, and you can eat as much as you like!"

She moved off of her bed and dragged herself over to Daphne's, throwing herself upon it and curling up into a foetal position. "…Deposit strawberries directly into my mouth, please."

Daphne did so with a pleasant smile, stroking her dark hair out of her face. "What's wrong, Pans? You've been really down over the last couple of days."

"I'm dating an idiot," Pansy replied. "A useless, insensitive, nervous wreck of a boy."

"That bad, huh?" Daphne asked, offering her another strawberry. So cold, but so good!

"Didn't you see him at the Defence Against the Dark Arts exam?" Pansy's head shot up, scowling. "I haven't felt that embarrassed since my mother threw me onto Malfoy! He was pathetic, Daphne! I made it further than him! He can't even swim right, he's so uncoordinated!" Why did Ron have to take off his shirt and make things worse? Neville could never look like that… All carved up and strong, with a perfect set of abs. Damn, I can't stop thinking about it! He just keeps popping into my head, shirtless and down to mess around! That bloody tease! I should've pinched his arse even harder than I did!

"Longbottom tried his best, though," Daphne pointed out with a sorry smile. "That's what counts, right?" Pansy gave her friend a deadpan look. "…Okay, it was rather off-putting." Now, imagine you were his girlfriend!

"His own Housemates were laughing behind his back!" Pansy sat up, she had never liked Finnegan and Thomas. "And, then, he comes back a complete failure and laughs alongside them! If Potter hadn't stepped in and told them to piss off, he would've let them spit on him! I'm sure of it!" Oh, Merlin… I was just like that once, wasn't I? A total pushover who just wanted to please whoever my mother ordered me to please. EW!

"You know, you've been complaining a lot about him recently," Daphne started awkwardly. "Maybe, you should just break up with him? It doesn't sound like you're enjoying the relationship very much." Does he even realize we're in a relationship?

"…You know, he hasn't even asked me if I'm okay," Pansy said, pouting miserably. "He's noticed that I've been upset, I've seen him staring during meals, but he hasn't approached me even once."

"Really? Why not?"

"I… don't really know," Pansy admitted, feeling even worse about herself. "I don't think he likes me very much."

"…Oh, Pans…"

"Our first date was awkward, sure, but it ended really well, and I thought-" she stopped abruptly. "I don't know what I thought. Every time we hang out, it's because I ask him to. Every time we talk, it's because I approach him. He doesn't even try, Daphne… He doesn't ask me out, he doesn't plan surprises for me, he doesn't buy me presents…"

"He doesn't make you feel special?" Daphne asked, and Pansy shook her head.

"He makes me feel the opposite, actually."

"Then, you need to be rid of him," Daphne said, her tone becoming firmer. "You're supposed to make each other feel special. That's what makes a relationship work, I think." Special, huh?

Pansy looked back at the tub of ice cream, and, in that moment, she knew Neville would never come through for her like she wanted him to. "…Are you and Ron dating, again?"

"What?" Daphne went wide-eyed. "No, Pans! Where'd you get that idea?!"

"…You two are acting like you are," Pansy murmured, feeling jealous. "Eating together, spending loads of time with each other, 'dancing', and you modelled that cute outfit for him. The one Tracey got you-"

"I didn't 'model' it for him," Daphne denied, but her blush told a different story.

"Really? Then why did you change out of it as soon as he left?" Pansy asked dully.

"Because… I didn't want the boys in Slytherin creeping on me…" Daphne mumbled pathetically. "Why are we suddenly talking about me? We need to figure out what to do about Longbottom, don't we?"

Pansy got off the bed, heading for the exit. "I've figured it out, thanks." I deserve someone who makes me feel special, and he's making me forget that, so he has to go. There's plenty of other boys around. And girls… Some really cute girls, actually. Why waste my time on him? He certainly wouldn't do the same for me.

---

A Long Walk Later

"Pansy?" came Neville's voice, and she looked to see him stepping out of Gryffindor Tower. "Katie told me you were waiting out here for me. How'd you find our common room?"

"It's common knowledge, Neville," Pansy shrugged, she had decided to do the dumping amicably. Ron has an interest in the Golden Trio, and I don't want to poison the well.

"It is?" Neville asked, looking to the Fat Lady.

"If you have friends, which you don't," the portrait answered haughtily. A talking entrance… The Gryffindors are mental. I'd hate to put up with this ugly bitch running her mouth at me. Ron would probably set fire to her and give us all a good laugh.

Neville walked over to Pansy, shaking his head clear. "Sorry about her. She doesn't like me much, on account of me always forgetting her passwords."

"Can we talk?" Pansy asked, gesturing him to follow her. "We'll need some privacy."

"Oh… Yeah, of course," Neville smiled shyly, and she barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. He should start wearing a dress, honestly. "I've missed talking to you, Pansy."

The Slytherin stopped mid-step, her temper flaring wildly. "What? What did you just say?" I didn't mishear him, did I? Did I?!

"Um… That I've… missed talking to you?" Neville muttered, taken aback by the shift in her tone.

Pansy turned to face him with a look of utter disbelief. "You've missed me? You?" Yeah… That's it… I'm giving him a piece of my mind, and I don't care about Ron's interests.

"…I shouldn't have?" Neville shrunk a little. "Um… Pansy, what's going on?"

"You just said that you missed me," Pansy reminded him, confusing him further. Do I have to spell everything out for him? He's genuinely stupid, he is. People don't just make fun of him because they're mean, he's actually fucking dumb. "If you've missed me so much, then why have you been ignoring me?"

"Ignoring you?" Neville blanched. "No… No, no, no… I've been giving you your space, that's all!"

"My what?!"

"…Your space…" Neville squeaked. "Whenever Hermione's upset, Harry and I give her some space. Otherwise, she gets really snappish. I just figured that, once you were feeling better, you'd come talk to me." I'm about to kill a Gryffindor! Say goodbye to your heir, Lady Longbottom, you nasty Hag!

"Do I look like Granger to you?!" Pansy demanded, furious. "Do I have filthy, knotted, unwashed hair?! Do I dress like my grandparents pick out my clothes?! Am I supporting red and gold on my uniform?!"

"…Pansy, calm down-"

"I've had a horrible couple of weeks, and you, my boyfriend, definitely noticed that I was upset! You just confirmed it!" Pansy hissed accusingly. "But you chose to ignore me because that's how you deal with Granger?! Merlin… I actually feel sorry for her…" She scoffed at him, waving a hand in his face. "We're done. I'm breaking up with you, Neville. You were just about the worst first boyfriend any girl could ever ask for."

Neville just gawked at her with a dumbfounded expression, until suddenly, his eyes began to well up. "…Sorry…" Don't give me that fragile act. It doesn't work in Slytherin.

"You don't ignore the people you care about, all right?" Pansy said, exasperated. "You've no idea how much it hurts. I needed someone to talk to, someone to lean on, and you just-… You put in no effort, Neville. None. You just sat there and ignored me. How could you do that?"

"I… don't know how girls think…" Neville managed, wiping at his eyes. "I thought I'd figure it out with you."

"Then, why didn't you just ask me? Why not ask the girls in Gryffindor?" Pansy questioned. "I'll tell you why… You're too scared of stepping on anyone's toes, right? Better to be meek and unseen than decisive and bothersome, right?" She turned to leave, planning to go cry out her frustrations in the girls' bathroom. "…Don't ignore Granger when she's upset. It's just cruel, okay? You and Potter both… Stop sniffing each other's farts." What a dumb duo they make! They'll die virgins, I'm convinced of it!

---

Ginny Weasley's POV

Monday 14th June, 1994 (The Great Hall – Dinner)

"So… Do you two have any plans for the next couple of weeks?" Ginny broke the silence, looking between Harry and Hermione. "Luna's invited me to join her friends by the Black Lake. They're trying to figure out a way to summon the Giant Squid. It could be fun."

Hermione didn't look too tempted by the idea, but Harry did.

"Is it okay if I bring Neville along?" the Boy-Who-Lived asked, feeling a little more comfortable now that someone else had initiated conversation. He could use the distraction, that's for sure.

"Yeah, I don't see why that'd be a problem," Ginny smiled and nodded.

"I'll let him know, then," Harry smiled back. "We could also fly around on our Firebolts. We haven't raced in a while, have we?" No, we haven't.

Ginny beamed, sitting up straighter. "I'd like that, Harry! Let's fly through Hogwarts this time, just like we discussed!"

"Under the bridges and around the towers? Yeah, let's do it!"

"Is that safe?" Hermione chimed in.

"It is if you know how to fly," Ginny shrugged. "Why don't you let Harry and I show you? You can sit on my broom, and-"

"No, I don't like flying," Hermione refused, shaking her head. "And those Firebolts of yours are too much. I'm still shocked every time I see you blasting through the air and not being flung off."

"We can go slower, you know?" Harry rightfully pointed out.

"No, thanks."

Ginny and Harry exchanged knowing looks; Hermione was never going to agree to joining them. What else can we do? Two weeks is a long time, now that I think about it. Without any classes, we really have the entirety of Hogwarts to ourselves.

"We can also visit Hagrid," Harry suggested, as if having read her mind. "He promised to let me fly on Buckbeak's back, again." Now that sounds like fun!

"You reckon he'll let me do it, too?" Ginny asked hurriedly.

"I don't see why he wouldn't. He's quite large, Buckbeak, so I'm sure we can both go together." Together?

Ginny pictured herself flying through the clouds on Buckbeak's back, her arms wrapped around the Hero of the Wizarding World. The image caused butterflies to flutter inside in her stomach. Oh, I can't wait! This'll be the best!

"…You two really love flying, huh?" Hermione whispered to herself. "Well, I'd like to visit Hagrid, as well. I have questions about Red Caps I want to ask him."

"Red Caps?" Harry asked. "Remus has already told us everything we need to know about them, though."

"He taught us how to fight them off, nothing more. They used traps and tools, Harry! Don't you understand what that means?!"

"They're not simpleminded beasts," Ginny answered, and Hermione nodded fervently. Yes! Got it in one!

"I want to know if there's more to them than just instincts," Hermione said, her expression thoughtful. "Maybe, they even have communities that Wizarding Kind doesn't know about. Or, rather, care enough to know about."

"…It's a mystery…" Harry muttered, already sounding bored. "Neville might be interested enough to join you, though."

"Maybe," Hermione shrugged. "He's not exactly in a sociable mood, is he?" And she brought it up… Brilliant…

Ginny shifted in her seat, shooting a quick glance towards Pansy Parkinson. If what Neville told us is true, then I can't say I blame her for breaking up with him so abruptly. Still, I feel really bad for Neville. He's so sweet, and he was so hurt by it. I should take some sandwiches back for him. Maybe, they'll cheer him up-…

"Why did she even ask him out if she was just going to break up with him?" Harry grumbled, frowning to himself.

"Um… It happens all the time at Hogwarts," Ginny pointed out. "She had her reasons, remember? Neville told us everything she said."

"She didn't have to insult him, though," Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "I told him she was bad news, but did he listen? No! Instead, he became smitten with her, even though she is as mean as a black cat."

"Why do you always do that?" Ginny asked without thinking.

"Do what?"

"Act like you have all the answers," Ginny clarified, and Hermione scoffed defiantly. "You do that with Luna all the time whenever we hang out." I don't know how Luna puts up with it, but I'm really starting to hate it. "Not everything has to be an argument, Hermione, and not every argument needs a winner." Harry shifted away from her, burying his face in his dinner. "I'm just saying… Neville liked her a lot, and she liked him too, but it didn't work out. It happens."

"So, you think it's all right for her to hurl insults at him, do you?" Hermione demanded, her voice going up an octave.

"I didn't say that," Ginny scowled. "Don't twist my words, all right? Parkinson could've been nicer about it, sure, but people say mean things when they're upset. I do too, and so do you."

"When do I say mean-?"

"I'm not looking for an argument," Ginny cut in. I'll just punch you in the face. That's how we Weasleys handle arguments. "Breaking up is a part of dating, that's what Percy told me after he broke up with Clearwater. It just happens, sometimes. It doesn't mean Parkinson is some evil bint out to crush Neville's spirit… It just means they weren't right for each other."

"Why are you defending her like she's your sister, or something?" Hermione asked hotly. Because I don't have a crush on Neville! "Whatever… Why don't you invite Parkinson to go flying with you? I'm sure she'd love it! She'd probably wear her tiniest skirt so every boy in Hogwarts can get a good look at her knickers!"

The bushy-haired witch then picked up her plate and moved further down the table, planting her arse next to Fay Dunbar. Ugh! She's so confrontational about everything! What's her problem?! Ginny glared at Harry, who was still focusing only on his dinner. Well?! Why didn't you say anything? She's acting like a lunatic, and you just sit there eating your beans?!

"Thanks for the support, Harry."

"I-… What did you want me to say?" the bespectacled wizard murmured sheepishly.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe tell her that she's being mental?"

"Ginny, trust me, when she gets like that, it's best to just ignore it," Harry tried, but a scathing look from her stopped him.

"…Right…" Ginny rolled her eyes, grabbing a napkin and packing some sandwiches for Neville.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to go make sure Neville's okay," Ginny replied, standing up. "You mentioned that he was… crying?" He was there for me when I was struggling, so it's only right I be there for him.

"Not crying crying, but he was really sad." So helpful.

Ginny began making her way out of the Great Hall, but as she neared the exit, Lavender Brown suddenly jumped in her way. Bloody hell! Why'd you do that?!

"Um… Not hungry?" the pretty girl asked, smiling in a rather creepy manner.

"What do you want?" Ginny asked curtly, shooting a look back and noticing a bunch of girls from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw staring at her. What is this? Oh, no… Don't tell me this about-…

"So, I have a favour to ask, and you can say no-"

"No."

"Aw! Just hear me out, please!" Lavender pleaded.

"Parvati already came to me, and I-"

"It's just a few pictures!"

"Of my brother!" Ginny nearly gagged. "What's wrong with you?!"

"We'll pay you!" Lavender urged. "We've put together our allowances!"

The offer would've been tempting, if she didn't already have the key to a vault bursting with Galleons. "No. Stop it. Get some help."

"Please, please, please!" Lavender pulled out a strange camera, pushing it into Ginny's spare hand. "This one can hold up to ten photographs! He won't even notice it!" Hold on, is this a Muggle camera? It is! This is Hermione's, isn't it?! What did she call it?! A 'digital camera', right?!

Ginny shot a murderous look back, and Hermione quickly averted her gaze. You perverts! Leave Ron alone! "My brother is a private person, Brown! And I'm his little sister! This is twisted!" Imagine if he caught me taking pictures of him without his clothes on! He'd kill me! And then, mum would burn my remains!

"Ginevra, as a girl, you have a duty to the rest of-"

"I will Hex you," Ginny warned, shoving the camera into the other girl's sternum hard enough to make her wheeze. "You want pictures of Ron? Go take them yourself. I'd love to see what he does to you after."

With that, she stormed away, shuddering because of the disgusting encounter. Who cares what he looked like, honestly? The way people described him clearing that obstacle course, I'm more interested in seeing that! It's not even a competition, anymore, Ron is the most powerful wizard of our generation! She couldn't help but smile smugly to herself, no one could beat her big brother. Being sick won't stop him, I bet! He'll figure everything out, like he always does, and he'll always be around! I know he will!

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Wednesday 16th June, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Afternoon)

"You felt this 'terrible pain' last night? And this morning too?" Reid asked, having chosen to personally conduct Ron's check-up.

"Yes," the redhead gave a nod. "I had a bad dream, and I jumped out of bed, and then… It just happened…" It felt like someone stabbed me in the gut.

"And the pain persisted well into the morning?" Reid looked through Ron's file, clicking his tongue. "I think, we both know what's going on here, Mr. Weasley."

"Another stress ulcer?" Ron sighed out. Just what I fucking needed.

"Yes, a stress-induced ulcer, to be exact," the Vampire confirmed. "Don't be alarmed, however. It is a more common occurrence than most people know. Lesions can form within the stomach due to high levels of stress, both physical and mental. Your diet also could've played a part in it, so be more mindful of what you eat in the future. Still, I must say, this affliction isn't generally found in children."

"Aren't I lucky, eh?" Ron smirked mirthlessly. "So… How do we fix this? Last time, I needed surgery-"

"We caught it early, thanks to you coming here," Reid stopped him, smiling encouragingly. "I will give you a potion that will take care of the lesion, or lesions, as well as strengthen your stomach lining."

"Any side effects?"

"Diarrhoea, Mr. Weasley." Lovely. "The potion will expel all the waste in your stomach, including any obstructions. You may also find blood in your stool, but do not be alarmed. It is just part of the process." Shitting blood is part of the process? The Champion of Fate, everyone! Saviour of mankind! Walking around with a leaking, bloody-glazed hole! "Please, there is nothing to be embarrassed about when it comes to preserving your health."

"Easy for you to say, you don't even have to shit," Ron remarked, while Reid flicked his wand and Conjured an orange bottle on the table.

"Drink all of this-"

"Now?"

"If you want to, certainly."

"I have dinner plans, tonight," Ron took the bottle, placing it securely inside his inner suit pocket. "I'll take it after."

"You should also look into lowering your stress, Mr. Weasley," Reid recommended. "Go for walks, meditate, spend time with family and friends. That sort of thing."

"I've been trying, I assure you," Ron stood up, buttoning up his jacket. "Thank you for the potion, Director Reid."

"Aren't you curious about why I chose to see you myself?" Reid asked, but Ron had already begun walking out. "Mr. Weasley?"

"I don't care."

Once the door was shut behind him, he looked to Artyom and London, both of whom were waiting for him in the hallway. Now, let's get on with our day, shall we?

"You all right, boss?" London asked, looking a lot more concerned than Artyom. "What did Jonathan say?" I can't believe she's fooling around with him. He might be handsome, but he's also ancient. I bet he ejaculates dust and cobwebs.

"Stress-induced ulcer," Ron shrugged, vexed by the timing. "Just more of the same, really."

"…Bloody hell," the green-haired witch sighed out.

"Your brothers' doing?" Artyom asked darkly.

"They didn't help matters, no," Ron led the way out. "Anyway, enough about me… London, I have a job for you."

"A job? What sort of job?"

"Collecting and delivering," Ron shot a smirk back. "Like my own personal owl."

"…That's disturbingly on point," London whispered to herself. Pardon? "What am I collecting?"

"You know the jacket you wore during our outing? The one with the long, metal spikes on the shoulders and all those logos?" Ron started, and she gave a slow nod. "I need you to go buy another one, but in the size of a teenage girl. She's turning fourteen in a couple of weeks. You've seen Pansy Parkinson, right?"

"She's one of the girls in your group, yeah."

"It's for her," Ron said, pulling out Daphne's letter from his pocket. "Here. Read it."

London took the letter, reading as she followed after him. "That's rough, boss. You never forget your first breakup." …I know. "So, the princess wants you to do this? To cheer up Pansy? To 'treat her right', like this Longbottom didn't?"

"Daphne's… soft-hearted like that, yeah," Ron sighed out. Still, this is a good opportunity for me. Daphne's no doubt told Pansy that I plan to bury the hatchet on her birthday, so if I reach out to her before then, it'll make a greater impact. "Bring the jacket back to my cottage. That's where Artyom and I are heading."

"Training?" Artyom asked.

"Training!"

---

Wednesday 16th June, 1994 (Prosperity Farm – Late Evening)

"You be safe out there, Helios," Ron tied the parcel to the owl's leg. "You can take the scenic route on the way back, if you like." Helios let out a hoot, biting at his gloved hand. "I love you, too."

Ron then moved to the window, and the moment he opened it, Helios took off into the darkening sky. There, Daph… I hope she likes it. Shame about her and Neville, but it is what it is.

"How adorable," came Ravenclaw Ron's unhinged voice, but Ron ignored it in favour of closing the window. "That blonde tart is pulling your strings once again, I see." Don't let him rile you up.

"Taking someone's advice isn't the same as being controlled by them," Ron turned around, his expression blank. "Was wondering when you'd show your ugly mug, again. Done sulking in the shadows of my mind, are you?"

"Well, I figured you didn't care much for my input, seeing as you always ignore it," his counterpart said distantly, floating over to the fireplace. "But not Greengrass'… Oh, no. If she tells you to bark, you bark. Like a good little boy."

Ron chuckled, what was this? "You sound like a jealous bird, you do."

"I've put everything on the line betting on you," Ravenclaw Ron countered, his manic gaze landing on the Slytherin. "And, unlike your girlfriend and Dumbledore, I truly understand what's at stake. I've done this before, remember?"

"You failed."

"Not because I was defeated."

"No, you failed because you broke the rules of the game."

"…Her rules…" Ravenclaw Ron spat out, sneering. "Another golden tart trying to order you around."

"Oh, she doesn't have to try," Ron sniggered, tapping his temple. "Following her rules is part of the game. I learned that when she dragged me across Universes, taking away my lungs and whatnot for kicks." He doesn't need to know about my plans to rebel. She might need me, but him? She'll tear him to pieces to get whatever information she wants. "If you're so upset with me, then why show up? Why not stay away?"

"…You made quick work of Lupin's exam," Ravenclaw Ron answered. "The Boggart caught you off-guard, though."

"It didn't."

"It did, I felt it."

"So, you've come to mock me, then?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. "Mock away… But I know the truth. We both fear the Entity, and anyone who doesn't is a fucking idiot."

"Do I look like the sort of person who mocks another's fears?"

"Absolutely."

"…Guilty," Ravenclaw Ron grinned, though it never reached his eyes. "I came to warn you, O-Great-One. Not to mock you."

"Warn me?"

"The Gateway to Divinity… The one Fate left in your head… It's acting up."

"Acting up?" Ron felt a cold chill run up his spine. "You know… I saw something strange after Remus' exam… I was looking at my eyes-… I was looking at my real eyes, and they became golden. It was just for a second, but I know what I saw. They changed colour. They've never done that before."

"Mummy's ringing the dinner bell, I think," Ravenclaw Ron giggled, winking. Fuck! "Is that fear I see behind those pretty peepers of yours?" …Yes.

"What could she want, now?" Ron clicked his tongue, pacing. "Who does she want me to kill? Who does she want me to protect? Or, does she simply want to kick me around because she's bored?"

"The Elders don't act without reason, not in my experience," Ravenclaw Ron hummed. "Too many rules, that lot. She's up to something, though. Something that isn't a part of their plan. You know that, right?"

"She doesn't just want to end the Dark Lord, no," Ron gave a harsh nod. "She wants something only I can give her."

"Control."

"…Control…"

"Why chronicle when you can paint?" Ravenclaw Ron tutted. "Bad, bad girl."

"So, I'm her paintbrush, am I?" Ron chuckled to himself, his voice wavering. "Makes sense, but until I can figure out her true game, we shouldn't become so certain."

"We?" Ravenclaw Ron asked, his tone turning cruel. "No, handsome… You don't want my advice, remember? I'm insane. Violent. Evil."

"You're a mad dog, just like me. We don't have to like each other, but as you said before, you've already bet everything on me. Why stop, now, eh?"

"I can't teach you what you want, not unless you listen to me. Crows… Smoke… Flight… You were coming so close to reaching the sky, but then you fucked it up."

"Stop being cryptic," Ron stopped pacing, clenching his jaw. "The Headmaster is annoying enough; I don't need you trying to mimic him."

"Earthly attachments, you silly boy," his counterpart floated into the air, his ghostly arms and legs flapping about. "You think I just learned to fly, Ronnie? No… You have to get rid of the weight, first. Magic gives, but it also takes. Rules are so important, aren't they? I might've broken Fate's, but I never broke that one." What an odd thing to keep to himself, given that it could've aided his cause a great deal.

"So, I have to not care about anyone or anything?" Ron asked. "Then, I can fly?"

"Yes." Liar.

"All right… Keep your Magic, I don't need it," Ron walked away, heading for his room. "The Champion will prevail, regardless."

"You don't mean that," Ravenclaw Ron flew after him, hovering above his head.

"You think I'm stupid, do you? You're lying to me."

"I am not-"

"Then, why not mention this before?" Ron stopped abruptly, looking up. "I'll answer for you, Ravencunt. You're making it up so you can be the one pulling my strings. It's always the same with you, isn't it?" His ghostly reflection looked murderous, but only for a second. "You Ravenclaws might think you're smarter than everyone, but really, you're just a bunch of socially inept tossers. Books are easier to read than people, right? Well, not for me. I can read you like any old book. You will teach me what I want, and you'll do it without complaint. Why? Because we're in the same leaky boat, my friend. If one of us falls out, the other will surely follow." He then smirked, continuing onwards. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a dinner to get to. A new game is afoot, and I can't miss it." Him I can handle, but Fate… Fuck, if she really is reaching out to me, then I need to be ready. I can't afford to disappoint her, not yet.

---

Wednesday 16th June, 1994 (The Pond – Night)

"A lovely dinner, Ron," Lord Fawley commended, toasting the younger wizard with his glass of Firewhiskey. "It's been too long since I visited the Pond."

"You certainly know how to host, young man," Tiberius Ogden added, giving him a nod. "I must say, though, I was surprised to receive your summons."

"Were you?" Ron asked, grinning. "Amongst our late alliance, I found you two to be the most impressive. It's only natural that I'd want us to continue working together."

"Ah, there it is!" Ogden laughed loudly, his deep voice echoing around the empty restaurant. "I knew you'd hired this venue to show us how serious you were! A bold move from a bold wizard!"

"I'm more than happy to continue working with you, Ron, but what of Sirius?" Lord Fawley asked. "He is-"

"Unreliable," Ron interrupted. "Don't mistake me, my Lord, I am quite fond of him, but I needed him at that final meeting, and he wasn't there. Why?"

"Too emotional, that one," Ogden answered. "Like a rowdy schoolboy. All passion, no sense."

"Don't you agree?" Ron asked Lord Fawley, who gave a sombre nod. "Someone like that will only hold us back."

"What of your mentor?" Lord Fawley asked. "Sebastian Greengrass would surely empower us further."

"Too greedy," Ron shook his head. "He would only seek to empower himself."

"I agree," Ogden said, sipping his wine. "This red… It's excellent!"

"We three… We're powerful not because of our wealth, but because of our convictions," Ron stated. "You, Lord Fawley, have the heart of a lion, despite being a badger, but more than that, you have compassion for the weak. And, you, Mr. Ogden, have climbed your way up the ladder from nothing, but you never forgot where you came from." Both men nodded, flattered. "You are men of substance, as am I. We would empower each other, instead of getting in each other's way."

"Our old friends won't take kindly to this alliance," Lord Fawley pointed out. "Your Great-Aunt is especially vindictive."

"She's an old woman, as is Augusta Longbottom," Ron waved a dismissive hand. "Their time is done."

"The Macmillans and Abbots aren't exactly a threat on their own," Ogden shrugged. "I'm not worried, Oscar, and neither should you be. Plus, our new Minister does not care much for drama. She will come down strong on any unnecessary fighting, and we can use that to our advantage."

"She's abolished quite a few legislations enacted by the Purebloods' influence, already," Ron smiled, unable to hide his amusement. "The Werewolf Registration Act? Dead. The Foreign Business Embargo? Dead. The Pureblood Tax Exemptions? Dead. Amelia Bones is on a warpath, and her new Wizengamot is becoming more and more supportive of her by the day. She's getting shit done, which is a rarity in their line of work. Now is the perfect time to land in her good graces, you two, and as I'm sure you're aware, she and I are working together. Why not join me?"

"She humiliated me, Ron," Lord Fawley reminded him.

"These things happen when you play at the high table," Ron shrugged. "I've been humiliated loads of times, but I never let that stop me. The man who pushes forward, regardless of his tumbles, is the one who crosses the finish line."

"Well said, young man," Ogden chuckled. "Well said."

"I will need to speak with my wife before I commit to anything," Lord Fawley gave his answer. "I might have the heart of a lion, but she has the brain of an owl. Her wisdom has always guided me true." I understand.

"And you, Mr. Ogden?" Ron asked. "What is your answer?"

"I see no point in refusing," the man replied, smiling confidently. I need to keep my eyes on this one. He's smart. Smarter than me, even. "What of the young Ladies Selwyn and Parkinson?"

"I will speak with Lady Selwyn, eventually, but Lady Parkinson has a long way to go before she can sit with us," Ron replied plainly. "She's proven herself… weak to temptation. I can't trust that."

"Cold as ice, you are," Ogden laughed, again. "But I agree."

"She is certainly… something," Lord Fawley grimaced. "I expected more than a brat with a hunger for attention, given that she is a friend of yours, Ron."

"Her parents weren't exactly supportive in raising her," Ron told them. "She will come around, in time, but for now, Lady Selwyn is the better option. The safer option."

"Anyone else you have on your mind?" Lord Fawley asked.

"Just one more…" Ron's smile grew on its own. "The most exceptional woman I have ever met in my life. I don't believe in soul mates, but I know she is mine."

"Oh, this should be good!" Ogden grinned.

"Emilia Travers," Ron revealed, nearly bursting into laughter as both men suddenly lost their mirth. They fear her, don't they? Oh, Emilia… I love you so much!

"Lady Travers is… an odd choice…" Lord Fawley exchanged a glance with Ogden.

"Odd choice? I've heard that she's insane!" Ogden said scathingly. Don't you speak about her that way, mortal! We will kill you without hesitation!

"Ron, the rumours surrounding her-"

"Are true," the redhead finished for Lord Fawley. "She cut off her Aunt's head, and she maimed her cousin. She is ruthless, unforgiving, and brutal. And yet, she is wise, and brave, and more disciplined than all three of us put together. I'm telling you both right now… She is a woman unlike any other! And with her on our team, we'll be unstoppable!" I offered her a way back into Magical Britain once, and I intend to keep my word. "She can also open the doors to Magical France for us. There's plenty of powerful people there that we can utilize for our ends."

"…Veela, you mean?" Ogden frowned.

"No, never them," Ron sneered in disgust. "Fucking whores… I don't want them near me, save for one. Johan Abadie. He is… different. He seemingly has no sexual desires, which has honed his mind into a weapon of great power. We'll need him too. Plus, he and Lady Travers are enemies, so keeping them in the same space-"

"Will weaken them both enough to stop them from getting any ideas," Lord Fawley finished for him. "Clever, but dangerous." I mostly just want them to learn to work together, for the sake of my mission.

"That's me!" Ron winked, making the man smile amusedly. "Look, we know what's out there… We don't have to say it, but we know it. Mr. Ogden, have you been made aware-?"

"Don't say his name," Ogden cut in. "I know." Good.

"Then, we need to stick together, because he will always prey on the weak, first," Ron said firmly. "The divided. The hesitators. The lonely."

"Lady Travers' milling enterprise would be a boon for my production line…" Ogden whispered to himself, before giving a nod. "If you can bring her to the table, I will put aside my reservations."

"Lord Fawley?"

"As long as she leaves her sword at the door, I'm willing to talk."

"Then, let us raise our glasses," Ron beamed, picking up his cold glass of apple juice. "To our new alliance! May it prove more prosperous than the last!"

"Here, here!" Fantastic! It's always wiser to have a strong shield covering you when the Curses start flying, and in my life, Curses fly far too often! Emilia and I… We'll be safer with powerful allies aiding our cause!

---

Emilia Travers' POV

Friday 18th June, 1994 (Travers Manor – Evening)

Her struggles with relocating her strength still persisted, but having her friend here certainly helped. He was a breath of fresh air in this stuffy palace of regrets and nightmares, and his boyish charms brought humour into her otherwise monotonous routine. Plus, he gives Godrey a reason to show off 'French cuisine'.

"What do you think?" Ron grinned, playfully kicking her shin under the table. "Pretty clever, aren't I?"

"You're going through a lot of trouble to fulfil my dream, Ron," Emilia stated, studying him keenly. "Why?"

"We're friends," Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "Those old codgers will protect us, like a proper shield should, while we take the fight to the real enemy. And, along the way, we'll right the wrong done to your family." His grin wavered, and he shifted in his seat. "…You don't like my idea? Why not?"

"…Abadie."

Ron drew in a deep breath, dropping his utensils onto his plate. "Emilia, please… You can have your revenge, but you must be patient. I'm trying to protect us. You and me. We have so many enemies to fend off, so we have to be smart. Men like Abadie and Chloros… They have their uses, until they don't. Do you understand?" He spared the assassin who hurt his friend. I saw the bloodlust in him when we ambushed that cockroach, and yet, he managed to supress it during their second meeting. I used to be able to do that, until Abadie kicked the hornets' nest.

"…I am not well, Ron," Emilia confessed, feeling ashamed. He has to know. For both our sakes.

"Not well? What do you mean?" Ron asked, his brow furrowed.

"My equilibrium has been… shattered…" Emilia grit out, clenching her hands into fists. "I'm seeing things… Things that aren't there… Memories of-" she stopped, picturing her rotting mother. "It took me a very long time, a lot of training, to embrace my fears. To let them strengthen my resolve. And, now… Now, I feel like that little girl, again. The one who ran from home without a chance at survival."

"The Crucible did this?" Ron asked, and she gave a curt nod. "…Fuck… Emilia, why didn't you mention this earlier? How long has this been happening?"

"I am not weak," she answered, as if trying to convince herself. I survived the Dragon's teachings! I slew that Oni faster than even Sensei could've! I passed all my trials with nothing but my will and my wit!

"You went to Russia with this?" Ron asked, his voice turning awfully cold.

Emilia looked to him, the funny boy was now gone, and in his seat sat the demon who often haunted her dreams. "…I was distracted… Against Rodolphus Lestrange… It almost got me and Artyom killed… The Auror with us too…"

Ron pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing in a very long breath. Emilia prepared herself for his wrath, but when he looked upon her again, his expression had softened. What is he thinking right now? I can't tell.

"…Why didn't you tell me? Was it pride? Were you angry with me? About Abadie?" Ron asked, concern written all over his face.

She didn't know why, but this felt worse than his anger ever could. "…He hurt me in the worst way possible, and you told me to ignore that. How could I not be angry?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, lowering his head. "My mission, Emilia… I can't fail it… And that can make me insensitive to the pain of others, but I want you to know that I will always put you before him. Hell… I'd put you before most of my own family… You're not just my friend, you're someone I respect and admire. It's why I was willing to die for you in that brothel, and it's why I want to make your dream come true." She could do little but listen, no one had ever spoken to her with such affection and sincerity, not even her Sensei. "…Tell me what I can do to help you. Whatever it is, I'll do my best." Emilia stared at him, long and hard, her words caught in her throat. "Do you want me to bring you Abadie's head? I'll go and get it right now. Just say the words, and it'll be done."

"…No," Emilia refused, deeply touched by her friend's devotion to her. "It is beneath one such as you, Ron. When the time comes, my blade will take his head."

"And until that time?"

"I will do what you need me to do," Emilia promised.

"I'm sorry for asking this of you, truly. What he did to Audrey… Neither of us will ever forgive that. Children… They have to be off-limits." An honourable demon… My life has certainly become stranger as of late.

"Agreed," she continued to stare at him, at the worry lines on his face.

"What is it?"

"…Something is different about you, today." Your eyes are… softer. More human. "You're not one to ignore failure, Ron, I know that quite well. After I returned from Russia, I expected-"

"I was angry," Ron admitted without shame. "When I hugged you from behind, I wanted to snap your neck. It was just a passing thought, but it was there… I knew you'd failed me the moment I saw you, and it set my veins on fire. Artyom too. I wanted to skin him before his people, make an example out of him. Eat his heart and spit on his corpse." Circe's Breath… I didn't even sense his true intentions…

"Then, where's that anger gone, now?" Emilia asked, mustering her courage. He's found equilibrium, and I need to know how.

"It's there," Ron nodded to himself. "It'll always be there, I'm certain of it, but I proved to myself recently that I can control it. I can conquer it, instead of it conquering me."

"Conquer it?"

"Embracing it can work, for a time… I did as you suggested, Emilia, in my darkest hour, and it led me down a dangerous, destructive path. I embraced my fears, but in doing so, I gave them power over me. I… became my fears…"

"The Dragon taught me-"

"The 'Dragon' could've been wrong, have you considered that?" Ron asked bluntly, surprising her. How can the greatest warrior of our time be wrong? "Living with fear, with anger, it changes you. It can make strong, but at great cost. I don't want to pay that price, anymore. I don't want to consider hurting my friends, killing them, over nothing… What kind of man thinks about killing a woman he looks up to? A woman he's come to… love…" Love?! "What kind of brother considers brutalising his own-?" he paused, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth.

"…Ron…"

"That's where embracing my worst aspects led me… A monster who enjoys murder… That's what I've become… It did the same to you, didn't it?" Emilia averted her gaze, thinking of the many times she'd caught herself revelling in bloodshed. "Is that who we want to be, Emilia? You and me? Vicious, black-hearted murderers? The Butchers of Birmingham, as the Daily Prophet describes us? Forget our kin, let's answer to ourselves, first, eh?"

"How do you conquer something like this, though?" Emilia had to ask, frightened. "I failed before… I failed so many times…"

"Then, keep failing, but don't give up," Ron shrugged, smiling softy. "When you give up, that's when you truly lose. Your fear will never leave you, just as my anger will never leave me, you were right when you told me these feelings live inside our hearts, but they don't have to define us. We can't let them, Emilia, because we have to be better. If not for ourselves, then for the people we protect. If not for them, then for peace's sake. We must kill to better this world, that's a sad truth, but we shouldn't find pleasure in it. We shouldn't let it become an addiction. That's the path our enemies have chosen."

Emilia nodded weakly, pondering his words. Is this why I can't regain equilibrium? The foundations were rotten all along? The dam was just waiting to burst and flood my mind? Sensei taught me that my fears made me strong, gave me purpose, but could the Dragon and he have been wrong this entire time? If so, then what of the other Ronin? What of my peers? Why did the Dragon teach me to seek vengeance rather than justice, as the others were taught? Was it really to stop me from destroying myself? Why would they-…?

"Emilia?" Ron called out, and she looked to see him standing by her side, offering her his gloved hand. "Come with me."

"…Where are we going?"

"To go see the sunset," he beamed, his eyes sparkling. "That little girl who ran away from home with no chance at survival… Well, she survived, and she became a woman unlike any other. She did it once, so she'll do it, again. And I won't let her be alone, anymore. I'll stand by her for as long as she'll have me." That's what he said to me after I woke up from the Crucible. Emilia felt her eyes sting painfully, and it took all of her strength to accept his hand. "We'll make her dream come true, and we'll do her parents proud. Together."

"…Together…" Emi croaked, smiling with trembling lips. A demon? An angel? Or, maybe, he's both? It doesn't matter… I'm just glad we found each other. I don't want to be alone, anymore. I can't go back to how I used to be… I don't want to.

---

Sebastian Greengrass' POV

Saturday 19th June, 1994 (Hilda's Hotel – Midday)

The door clicked open, and Mary stepped inside the apartment wearing her Muggle disguise.

"Is that attire truly fooling anyone?" Sebastian asked from the living room, causing her to jump from fright.

"Sebastian?! Was machst du hier?!" Mary exhaled, her hand over her heart. "How did you get in here?!"

"I'm the one paying for this place," Sebastian reminded her, standing up and getting a good look at her.

She was wearing a white sundress, a big, floppy hat, and thick sunglasses. Not exactly dressed to be incognito, is she? Still, she looks unharmed, which is what matters. I was wise to put some of my men on her trail.

"…I don't want you here," Mary suddenly hissed, ripping off her sunglasses and hurling them at him.

He didn't bother avoiding them, letting them bounce off the side of his head. His wife's expression faltered; no doubt just as surprised by her own actions as he was. She's still angry with me. That's fair. I crossed the line.

"I am sorry," Sebastian apologised, the shame still burned too hot to handle. "…I dishonoured us both by resorting to… thuggery. I shouldn't have struck you, Mary, and I wish I could take it back." She just glared at him, her searing gaze threatening to crush him. "Please, say something. Anything. Throw things at me. Scream. Just don't-… Don't just stand there… Not after everything we've been through together. Don't let this be what destroys us."

Her shoulders slouched slightly, regret suddenly lurking behind her eyes. "I… shouldn't have used our daughters as a weapon to hurt you… I shouldn't have used Tori." Sebastian nodded weakly, feeling some of the shame abate. "…You're looking… more like yourself, today."

"A friend dropped by," Sebastian said faintly, stroking his clean-shaven jawline. "His words were harsh, but they were true. I don't want to lose you and our girls. You're my reason to live, and without you, I might as well be dead."

Mary drew in a deep breath, nodding in agreement. "…I can't leave without my mother. I won't."

"We won't," Sebastian promised, surprising her. "I was wrong to make you choose us over her. She is your blood, just as much as Daphne and Astoria. I should've seen that, but I was foolish and angry. I was not thinking clearly."

"You seem to be thinking clearly, now, though," Mary recovered, turning towards the door. "There is a café down the street. Come, husband."

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, the relief from hearing that one word was almost overwhelming. "Lead the way, wife."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"Arthur and Molly will take care of them," Sebastian said reassuringly. "And Spinny will be with them. They'll be safe, Mary."

"What if they don't want to come back?" Mary asked sombrely. "What then?"

"They'll come back," Sebastian promised. "And, if they don't want me there, I'll-"

"No," Mary cut in. "Our family was torn apart once, remember? I can't go through that, again. We'll find a way to stay together. We have to." Sebastian gave a nod, his gaze growing distant. "What do we do about Ron? He'll try to turn our daughters against us. He's already halfway there with Daphne."

"I sent him a message through Arthur," Sebastian began. "He knows he can't cross me without repercussions. He'll be mindful of that. Of course, I don't expect him to stop whispering in Daphne's ear, but he won't come after us directly." Not until he sees an opening. "For now, we have to focus on freeing your mother."

"And Eric Schwarz." That will prove more difficult.

"And him, yes."

"I've been gathering information on my father since my arrival," Mary started, looking disappointed. "He's changed, Sebastian… He's changed so much that I can't even recognize him. Whorehouses, taverns, men's clubs… There isn't a place of debauchery in Magical Berlin where he is not a regular customer. His old friends and acquaintances have all abandoned him, and he's seen as a pariah amongst the Purebloods far and wide."

"Did this change occur after you married me?" Sebastian had to ask.

"…It appears so."

"I see."

"His choices are not our fault, husband," Mary said decisively. "No, he has chosen this path of bitterness and hedonism. I sat down with Lord Rask, and he told me everything my father's been up to."

"Rask?" Sebastian frowned. "…Mary…"

"He found me, Sebastian," she explained. "This country is his kingdom. He is well aware of your arrival by now, I imagine. He was a perfect gentleman with me, and I don't want you to feel slighted by his… forwardness. He was merely curious about my return, seeing as we were friends in our youth."

"What did he tell you, then?" Sebastian asked, vexed by the idea of Rask being bold enough to approach his wife.

"Father blames me for humiliating him… For defying him. My marriage to you, a foreign Pureblood, was considered a scandal here. The mockery got to my father, and he turned to drink for company. In time, he pushed away all those who tried to help him, and then, my mother stopped attending the gatherings and balls. Lord Rask is convinced that he is abusing her, just as Eric's letter claimed."

"Have you laid eyes on your mother?" Sebastian asked, and she shook her head.

"He does not permit her to leave the estate."

"That's… going to be a problem."

"I know."

"Elias might be cut off from his former friends, but don't expect him to be entirely alone," Sebastian warned. "If he were, his livelihood would be under threat from the other German Lords. He must have made new friends, the sort who can challenge even the likes of Rask." Thieves, murderers, rapists… Perhaps, an organisation of them, even? How else can he continue as he is without being stolen from? "I will send some letters to the German Ministry, while Jürgen uses his contacts in the underworld. If we're to do this, Mary, there can't be any mistakes. Even we can't afford to cross the German Ministry and the German Purebloods."

"We have time," Mary said, her coffee still untouched. "Eric won't return from Durmstrang for another week, and my mother… She's endured so far; she will have to hold on for a little longer."

"And your father?" Sebastian asked. "How does this end, Mary? I need you to tell me."

"We do what we have to do, as ever," Mary answered with an indifferent expression. "That man, the one who beats his wife and sleeps with harlots, he's not my father. My father was sweet, kind, and loving. He would have never hurt my mother, nor the boy under his care, but this man does."

Sebastian gave an understanding nod, taking a sip of his tea. "I've booked the room across from yours, and Jürgen will be down the hall. We'll move to another hotel tomorrow, and another the day after. We don't stay in the same place for more than one night."

"Lord Rask will find us, regardless."

"I'm sure he will, but we don't make this easy for him. It's not your mother he's concerned about, it's Elias' businesses. He's not the boy you danced with during your parents' balls."

"I know," Mary whispered, her eyes examining him. "Why did you book a separate room?"

"I wasn't sure how you'd react to me being here," Sebastian confessed. "And, on the off chance you accepted my help, I didn't want to presume."

Mary smiled softly, exhaling. "…You're a silly man, Sebastian Greengrass."

"…I know…"

"But thank you… I still need some-"

"I understand," Sebastian smiled back. "I'll my earn my place back at your side, I swear it."

Mary chuckled, giving him a knowing look. "Which novel did you steal that line from? It sounds terribly familiar."

"…Love's Lament…"

"Oh, I hated that one!" What? How? It was… beautiful… "So unsophisticated and clichéd."

"I see that returning home has done nothing to better your tastes."

"It hasn't, no," Mary teased, sipping her coffee. "I still want to be your wife, after all." …That's just cruel…

---

Amelia Bones'

Monday 21st June, 1994 (The British Ministry – Morning)

"So, seven out of twenty of them committed suicide, five have gone missing, and the remainder are just living their lives," she sighed out, her eyes examining the report. "These findings are… disturbing…" The missing five have to be found, alive or dead.

"Minister, you still haven't explained who these people are," Tiberius pointed out, exchanging a glance with Gawain. "Why put the two of us on this during such a critical time?"

"And the high suicide rate among them has us… curious," the Deputy Head-Auror added. "Who were these people?"

"They were Unspeakables, that is all I can say on the matter," Amelia replied, gesturing Tiberius to leave. "I need a moment with Gawain."

"Minister," the burlier Auror bowed his head, exiting without further questions.

Amelia reached into her desk, pulling out the approved request forms. "I need you to deliver these directly to Barty, Gawain." I trust Abigail, but she's a clumsy girl.

"What are they?" the Auror asked, eyeing the parchments. "…Wait… You two are really lowering the standards for becoming an Auror? Only one year of training?! Minister, this is-"

"Necessary," Amelia interrupted. "There's a war coming, and I don't like how comfortable the American Aurors are becoming. Just get it done, will you?"

"…Yes, Minister," Gawain muttered, leaving the office with a dejected expression. Everyone's a critic when they don't have to make the decisions, huh?

She leaned back in her chair, exhausted. She was practically living inside this office, now, and if there wasn't a fire to put out, it just meant that she hadn't found the next one yet. The work was endless and gruelling, and the widespread corruption only made it harder to get through. Fudge had left so many employees to their own devices, and the results of his lack of oversight, or general interest in doing his job, were catastrophic. Entire Departments were following their own set of rules, and they were not eager for their new Minister to bring them back into the fold. I don't fill their pockets like the Purebloods did, and if it weren't for the American Aurors roaming the building, some of them would have openly rebelled by now.

Amelia closed her eyes, her mind slowly slipping away. I just need some rest… I'll pick up right where I left off once I'm-…

"Minister!" came Abigail's voice, followed by loud knocking. For. The. Love. Of. The. Gods! "I bring urgent news, Ma'am!"

"…It's open," Amelia sat up, fixing her monocle into place.

Abigail rushed inside, holding a newspaper in her hands. "Take a look at this, Minister!"

Amelia frowned as she took the paper being shoved into her face, what had the girl so riled up? "What am I looking at here?" And why are you reading the Daily Prophet?

"There, at the bottom!" Abigail pointed.

"Russian Ministry appoints new Head of Being Division: Dolores-" Amelia shot out of her seat, slamming the paper on her desk. "What the fuck?!"

Abigail shrunk, going red in the face. "…Minister…"

"Get my coat! And get me Thornburg from the Quibbler! Go, now!"

"Yes, Minister!"

---

Monday 21st June, 1994 (The Russian Ministry – Near Midday)

"Ah, Minister Bones," Samara Ivanov greeted as she entered the office, which was far more luxurious than her own. "What a pleasant surprise this is."

"A surprise?' Amelia raised an eyebrow, stepping up behind one of the shiny, ebony wood chairs. "Your secretary seemed to be expecting me, Minister Ivanov."

Ivanov smirked, gesturing Amelia to take a seat. "Can I interest you in a drink? You look as though you sorely need one."

"I didn't come here for a drink," Amelia took a seat, her gaze sharp despite the rings under her eyes. "You are harbouring a criminal within your Ministry, and I've come to collect her."

"A criminal?"

"Umbridge."

"Dolores Umbridge?" Ivanov asked, feigning confusion. "She is no criminal, as far as I know."

"The British Department of Magical Law is currently investigating her under charges of corruption and treason."

"Have any of the charges been brought forward?" Ivanov asked. "Have they been made public knowledge?"

"She fled the country before she could be brought before the Wizengamot," Amelia explained. This woman belongs to the Dark Lord. I must be careful with her. "I made the charges public knowledge right before coming here. Within the week, you'll have no choice but to hand her over. Spare yourself a scandal, Minister Ivanov. Cooperate."

The Russian Minister gazed into her eyes, as if reading her soul. "The rumours are true, then. You are a formidable woman."

"As are you," Amelia returned the compliment. "Umbridge isn't, though. She is a corrupt, unhinged, vile woman. She will not prove useful to you; I can assure you of that."

"But she has already proven useful to me," Ivanov smiled darkly. "She knows everything about the British Ministry, and she knows a great deal about you, too." Damn her! "And, whether you like her or not, you must admit, she knows how to pass Legislations which are going to prove most unpopular. She will make for a fine addition to my administration, and as such, I will not be handing her over."

"Do. Not. Cross. Me," Amelia warned, her jaw clenching. "That woman has British blood on her hands!"

"As do you, from what she's told me," Ivanov reminded her coldly. "You can make a case before the International Confederation of Wizards during the meeting they've recently announced, but know that if you do, I will leak your… negligence… to your public. Your record isn't as clean as people think it is, and from what I've heard, you're not a very popular Minister right now. Can you really afford to die on this hill?"

Amelia sneered, mostly out of anger towards herself. "…This is not over, Ivanov. I will have that woman thrown in Azkaban, one way or another." My truest friend is dead and buried because of her! I owe it to Rufus to bring at least one of his killers to justice!

"Even if you do, what difference will it make?" the Russian Minister asked. "Goodbye, Minister Bones." I'll put you in a cell right next to hers, you Death-Eater bitch!

---

Monday 21st June, 1994 (The British Ministry – Evening)

"Minister, Ronald Weasley is outside, and he's demanding an audience," Abigail informed her. "Should I send him on his way? He doesn't have an appointment."

"He's not one to care for making appointments," Amelia leaned back in her chair, removing her monocle. "Send him in."

Abigail left the office, and after a few seconds, Ronald Weasley took her place. As always, he was adorned in an expensive suit, his appearance so immaculate that it alarmed her rather than sooth her. Everything about him, right down to his bloody shoes, feels like a disguise, one that's been polished to perfection.

"I take it that you've heard about Umbridge," Amelia spoke first, gesturing him to take a seat.

"It was only a matter of time before she revealed herself, though I must give her credit," Weasley planted himself across from her, and she promptly noticed that he looked rather healthy for once. "The Russian Ministry's Being Division… She can do a lot of damage with such a lofty position."

"As long as she's not doing it here, I can tolerate her existence for a bit longer."

"You're not going after her?" Weasley asked. "Minister, I know we've had our differences lately, but there was a time when we both wanted-"

"I know, Mr. Weasley, but I can't afford to go after her just yet," Amelia cut in. "I have too many enemies as it is, and if I spread myself any thinner, I'll become undone."

"You're not putting your career ahead of doing the right thing, again, are you?" Weasley asked bluntly, much to her chagrin.

"…The world is a little more complicated than you make it sound, boy," Amelia answered, vexed. "Is this why you've come here? To force yourself into Ministry affairs yet again? If so, then kindly be on your way. I have too much work to do to even consider entertaining your judgement."

"Touchy, touchy," Weasley sniggered, annoying her further. "You tried to get her, didn't you? You did! Let me guess, it didn't work! Minister Ivanov sent you packing!"

"Umbridge is… resourceful," Amelia grumbled. "But, make no mistake, everyone has their day of reckoning. Everyone."

"Even Ministers?" Weasley asked, smiling like a clown.

"And upstarts who don't know their place."

"You flirt," Weasley winked, rocking his seat back-and-forth.

"Stop that. You'll fall and break your neck."

"I can balance it, just watch."

"You'll fall, damn it," Amelia scolded, giving him the same warning look she used to give her niece when she was a mischievous runt. "Stop being petulant."

"…Fine, your loss," Weasley grinned, his seat balanced on all four legs, again. "I didn't just come here to discuss Umbridge, by the way. I wanted to congratulate you."

"For what?" Amelia asked, frowning.

"The Werewolf Registration Act… You've helped a lot of good people by abolishing it," Weasley said, sounding rather sincere all of a sudden. "The people at the Werewolf Sanctuary… They all got together to celebrate your accomplishment. Thank you for that. It meant a lot to them, so it means a lot to me."

Amelia's sour expression returned to being stern. "…It's not just good people I've helped by abolishing it. Plenty of Werewolves out there will use it to spread their Curse." Werewolves like Greyback… Why haven't I heard any news about his capture? Durand should've tracked him down by now.

"That's true, but you can't let a few bad apples spoil the barrel, right?" Weasley smiled pleasantly. "You abolished an inhumane legislation, and that alone deserves praise."

"Your work certainly helped convince many Wizengamot members," Amelia told him. "So many of them were against abolishing it, just because they were terrified of what may be unleashed." We argued for over two hours straight. "Your father spoke well."

"My father?"

"Him, Amos Diggory, Braxton Jones, myself… We pushed the hardest for abolishing the legislation."

"Braxton Jones? The Head of the Beast Division? Didn't he support Umbridge the last time?"

"Your magazine changed his mind," Amelia said. "He even called upon Cecil Lee, the man who runs the Werewolf Capture Unit, to give his insight into your Werewolf Sanctuary. The Ministry might even consider creating its own, in a few years." Providing potential employers with the Wolfsbane Potion out of our own pocket will be terribly expensive, but for now, it's all we can do.

"…Wow," Weasley's smile grew wider. "Wish I'd seen that with my own eyes."

"Your father didn't tell you any of this?"

"He and I don't exactly get on," Weasley shrugged. "Too soft, my dad… Or, maybe, I'm too much of a disappointment. It's probably the latter, even if I like to convince myself it isn't. Still, I'm glad he's doing well within the Wizengamot. He's a passionate, loyal man, and he'll serve you well."

"Your father doesn't see you as a-"

"He does," Weasley interrupted, his voice so certain that it almost convinced her. "I came out wrong, Minister, unlike my siblings." …What? "Anyway, let me know if you need help with Umbridge. Greta's already collecting whatever information she can about her, it'll all be there in the next issue."

"…Right." Came out wrong? What a bizarre thing to say.

Weasley stood up to leave, and after a few steps towards the door, he suddenly turned around. "Oh, before I go… My older brother, Percy, will be graduating this week. Are you still willing to take him under your wing?" Why? So he can spy on me for you?

"I'm certain he will find another position suitable for-"

"Please, don't punish him because of who I am," Weasley requested, stopping her short. "I don't want to spy on you, and, even if I did, I'd never go to Percy for such a thing. He wouldn't agree with it. He's ambitious, but he's not two-faced. He's the most morally upright, and uptight, seventeen-year-old you'll ever meet. Please, just look at his N. E. W. Ts, and give him a fair chance."

Amelia searched the boy's eyes, and she saw no hint of trickery in them. "…I will consider him, but I will not make any promises."

"I can't ask for more than that. Good evening, Minister."

"Good evening, Mr. Weasley."

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Wednesday 23rd June, 1994 (The Girls' Dorm – Afternoon)

"I don't want to stay with the Weasleys," Tori complained, clutching onto the letter from their father. "I don't see why I can't enjoy Magical Germany with mother and father. This is so unfair!"

"They're not on vacation, little sister," Daphne tried, she still couldn't believe her father had left the country so abruptly. "I told you that our grandmother is in trouble, didn't I? They're trying to help her." What made father change his mind, I wonder.

"I could help too!" Tori argued petulantly. "I haven't been feeling tired, or woozy, or sick, lately." Really?! That's brilliant news! "I feel really good, actually! And, look at this!" She launched herself off the bed, standing with her hands by her side. "See?!"

"See what?" Daphne chuckled, baffled.

"I'm getting taller, Daphne!"

"Really?" the older sister stood up, resting her hand atop her sister's head. "…You're right. You've grown a little, I think."

"An entire inch!" Tori boasted, smirking. "That's right! My growth spurt is here, at last! You and your cow tits better watch out!"

"Astoria Greengrass!"

"Shameless, these fun-bags!" Tori smacked the underside of Daphne's right breast. OW! What's wrong with you?!

"Don't do that!" Daphne took a step back, grimacing. "That hurt, you idiot!"

The smaller Greengrass narrowed her eyes, growling as she reached forward with wriggling fingers. "I would steal them, if I could." Not her creepy voice! "Stitch them onto myself, just so you can feel my pain."

"Stop it," Daphne smacked Tori's hands away. "…Little monster."

"Can't we just stay at our manor?" she asked, throwing her head back and groaning. "The Elves can take care of us!" Was she always this energetic? I can hardly keep up!

"What's wrong with staying with Ron's family?" Daphne had to ask. "Why are you so against it?"

"Um… Their house is dreadful… It's tiny, cramped, and it smells like wet dog." Rude!

"Tori, that's a horrible thing to say."

"But it's true," the first year huffed in indignation. "Please, Daphne! Can't you write to father on our behalf? He listens to you." No, he doesn't.

Daphne inhaled deeply, how was she supposed to tell her little sister the truth? She knew she had to, but Tori loved their father to bits. He was probably her favourite person in the world, and she was definitely his favourite. I don't want to ruin that. I don't want her to be afraid of him, like I am now.

"Hello, Daphne?! Don't ignore me!" Tori stomped her foot. "Daphne, Daphne, Daphne, Daphne-"

"I think, this is a test," Daphne came up with a new plan, leaning forward to catch Tori's gaze.

"A test?"

"You know how father is, don't you?" the older sister smirked. "He's always trying to teach us new lessons. Living with the Weasleys… It could be a test."

"What's he trying to teach us, exactly? How poor people live?" I'm going to have to find a way to make her stop being so rude. The Weasleys are lovely people, especially Mrs. Weasley. I'll die of shame if she talks like this in front of them.

"How can you appreciate what you have until you live without it?" Daphne asked, and Tori pulled a face.

"That's stupid." Oi! I'm trying my best here!

"Tori, please… You don't have to be happy about it, but this is what's happening, all right? We're staying with the Weasleys, and we're going to show them our respect and appreciation. I won't let you dishonour mother by acting like a brat."

"Ugh!"

"None of that," Daphne warned sternly. "This is Ron's family, okay? Didn't you learn anything from that essay you wrote for him?"

Tori shifted in her spot, still displeased. "…I did…"

"Then, you'll think twice before running your mouth, or I'll know the reason why."

"At least, Ron will be there… I'll just hang out with him all day."

"Actually, about that…" Daphne blinked. "He… doesn't live there, anymore."

"Why not?" Tori demanded, pouting. "Agh! This is going to be awful!"

"What's going to be awful?" came Pansy's voice, and both sisters looked to see her entering the room. She's wearing it, again.

"Woah!" Tori's eyes gleamed, and she ran up to feel Pansy's new leather jacket. "Wicked, Pansy! Where'd you get this?!"

"You like it?!" Pansy giggled, while Tori reached up and toyed with the spikes on the shoulders.

"I love it!"

"See, Daphne?" Pansy grinned, whereas the blonde just smiled at her. I didn't think he'd listen, but he really came through for her. She's been nothing but smiles and laughter since Helios dropped by. "Your sister, Tori, thinks it's 'boorish'."

"Daphne has no taste," Tori scoffed.

"Then, why do you always steal my clothes?" Daphne asked in response.

Tori stuck her tongue out at her sister, before beaming at Pansy. "So, where'd you get it? I want one too." No.

Daphne shot Pansy a warning look, and the raven-haired witch winked knowingly. "I don't know where it's from, Tori. It was a gift from this really cute boy!" He is certainly cute, she's not lying. "Next time I see him, I'll ask him where he purchased it."

"You'd better," Tori laughed, hugging Pansy from the side. "You know, you're like a big sister to me. I've always looked up to you."

"Really?!" Pansy cooed, hugging Tori back. "Aw! You're the cutest little thing!"

"Tori, stop trying to manipulate her into giving you her jacket," Daphne scolded. "Shame on you."

"She's not-"

"You don't let me have no fun!" Tori whined, letting go of the surprised Pansy.

"…She needs to be locked up," Pansy eventually muttered, heading for the bathroom. "I almost fell for it."

As Tori watched Pansy leave, her eyes lit up, again. "Daphne, we can stay with-"

"No."

"What? Why?"

"Because I said so." Pansy's brain is pretty much rotted at this point. I don't want her influencing my sister with her perverted ideas. "Now, go play with your friends. And, remember, we're to show the Weasleys our utmost respect."

"Oh, I'll show them," Tori promised, smiling creepily. "I'll show them all." Circe, give me strength…

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Thursday 24th June, 1994 (Prosperity Farm – Afternoon)

"Remember, you're to begin redecorating after the Slytherins leave for the House Cup Ceremony," Ron repeated to his Elf. "I want the party to be a surprise, okay?"

"Marty and the other Elves will not let Master down," the Elf promised, beaming. "Will Master be attending the celebrations?"

"No, I don't really want to," Ron admitted, sinking into the couch. "Too noisy for me, mate. I've got other plans, besides. Now, off you pop, eh? And make sure you pay the other Elves, but don't show them your bigger cut."

"Marty will handle it, Master," the Elf bowed, cracking away.

"Right… Shall we continue, then?" Ron looked to his ghostly counterpart, rising onto his feet. "Umbra Cordis, was it?"

"The incantation is just the start," Ravenclaw Ron continued his lesson. "You need to cut your ties to the world around you. Now, there's an easier way to do that, but you're not interested in easy, are you?"

"Not even remotely."

"Then, we're doing this the hard way," Ravenclaw Ron floated over. "Close your eyes, focus your mind, and say the words."

Ron did as he was instructed, drawing in a calming breath. I am untethered. I am free. I am the Void, beholden to none by my own will. "Umbra Cordis."

He immediately felt a strange tingling sensation biting at his fingers, and when he opened his eyes, he was astonished to see that the Spell had actually worked. His fingers had lost their physical form, instead taking on the appearance of cloudy, billowing darkness. WOAH! Fuck, yes! I'm doing it on my first try! The cloudy darkness abruptly dispersed, his fingers returning to normal. Damn it! I got too excited!

"…That was impressive," Ravenclaw Ron muttered, looking surprised. "Really fucking impressive, actually."

Ron smirked to himself. "Well, to be fair, there's not much tethering me to the world. This is good. At this rate, I'll be flying before the holidays come to an end."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Ravenclaw Ron scoffed. "You only managed your fingers, and you couldn't even hold the Spell for more than five seconds. You need to be able to hold it over your entire body, and your clothes, for hours, and only then can you start thinking about flying. This is a dangerous Spell to master, and I don't say that very often, so you'd better take my warning seriously. One stupid mistake, and you could end up dead. Or, worse…" Worse?

Ron gave an understanding nod, losing his mirth. "You're right. I'll be patient and careful."

"Good. Now, let try it-"

A knock at the door interrupted them, and with a wave of his hand, Ron unlocked it. "It's open."

"Hello, boss!" London greeted as she walked in. "Got the Pond booked for you and your big brother! They wanted me to let you know that they're really grateful for your continued patronage!"

"Of course, they are," Ron chuckled, winking at his counterpart. "A lot of their regular customers are dead and gone." Thanks to me, no less. He then turned to face her, smiling fondly. "Dinner, tonight?"

"Sure! I was going to ask you the same thing!" London grinned, while Ravenclaw Ron gagged in the background. "Have you heard of movies before, boss?"

"Muggles watch them for entertainment," Ron answered. "Tracey told me about them once. They sound… interesting."

"Well, after dinner, I'm taking you to a screening of Rocky! My treat this time, okay? All of it!"

"Rocky?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Geology isn't exactly my thing, London."

The ebony witch barely stopped herself from laughing, she knew better than to test his patience, now. "I think, you'll love it. I'll pick you up at eight! Wear something naughty!"

Ron rolled his eyes, before giving a nod. "See you at eight, then." Rocky, eh? Oh, well… Maybe, I'll learn something useful about Mother Earth. Knowledge is power, right?

"Not tethered, my freckled arse," Ravenclaw Ron hissed, and once London had left, Ron looked to him with a wide smile. "…Ugh… Don't do that…"

"The Spell still worked, didn't it?" Ron gloated. "Now, let's keep going, eh? I want to see if I can hold it for longer."

---

?

Before him, the endless expanse of space was laid bare, countless stars and supernovas and nebulas and galaxies, a painting consisting of so many colours that it threatened to burn away his vision.

And, behind him, there was nothing… Just emptiness, the very edge of his Universe, devoid of all life and reason.

He was torn between which he liked better, but the truth was that he found them both beautiful in their own way. What was ahead of him promised endless possibilities, and what was behind him promised the inevitable.

And so, Ron took his time enjoying both, changing views whenever he began to grow bored.

This wasn't the first time he'd found himself traveling beyond his own world in his sleep, and he hoped it wasn't the last. After all, who else back home could claim such a feat? It was a handy reminder that he stood above all others, that he was more than they could ever hope to be.

He was the Champion, a union of Creation and Emptiness. The Great and Terrible Anomaly! The son of an Elder and the Void! The Shaper of Destiny! Him in the suit!

He grinned to himself, blushing a little. It's probably weird that I like to come up with cool monikers about myself. I should write them down somewhere so I don't forget them. Who knows? Maybe, one day, they'll be all that remains of my contradictory existence.

Ron looked down at the asteroid beneath his feet, wondering how it had travelled so far away from everything. A stray, like me. Still, I'm very grateful, Sir Asteroid. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have witnessed such-

A powerful presence suddenly emanated from behind him, and Ron straightened up immediately. Fate… Finally, she shows herself. Get ready, old boy. It's time to woo a Goddess and earn her trust. He turned around with a welcoming smile, only to go wide-eyed and have his jaw drop open. What the fuck is that?! A glowing silhouette of a gigantic horse stood tall in front of him, it's body a featureless vacuum consisting of stars and galaxies. That's… not Fate… Um… This is bad, right?

Nodding dumbly to himself, Ron raised his hands as a gesture of peace. I tried talking to myself before, but there was no sound. Merlin, if this thing attacks me, I won't even be able to call it a cunt before I die. His flowing, dark, alien robes slowly began reaching out towards the radiant creature without his consent, and the bizarre beast responded by stepping closer, as if challenging him. Ron shook his head manically, taking a step back. Hold it right there, you weird-…! Seriously, what the fuck are you?! It took another step forward, and then another, and then another, and the next thing he knew, Ron was running in the other direction, the 'Star-Horse' galloping after him. Leave me alone! I was enjoying the view, that's all! What the fuck is happening?! Why is it happening?! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

Twisting his head back until he snapped his own neck, Ron flipped the gaining creature off, only to realize that the asteroid wasn't particularly large. Are we just running in circles?! Wait… How are we even running? This asteroid isn't large enough to generate its own gravity… Oh, my head hurts! Where is Professor Sinistra when you need her? He forced himself to come to a sudden stop, deciding to face whatever was chasing him before it could run him down. C'mon, then, motherfucker! His claws at the ready, his head snapped back into place, and his needle-sharp teeth bared, Ron dug his feet into the asteroid. C'MON, CUNT! We're ready to die, are you?!

A flash of blinding light exploded between Ron and the starry horse, stunning them both. Now, what?! Mother, is that you?!

"That's enough, you two," Dream chuckled merrily, standing between them in the form of a young, blonde man. "Children shouldn't fight when the adults aren't looking. It's poor manners. Go on, go about your businesses."

Ron narrowed his crimson, toad-like eyes at the Star-Horse, before retracting his claws. Yeah, fuck off, cunt. You got lucky. The creature suddenly rose on its hind-legs, stomping the asteroid hard enough to change its trajectory. …We're sorry, please calm down.

"I told you to leave each other alone, didn't I?" Dream suddenly lost his mirth, snapping his fingers and flinging them both through space in the opposite directions.

Ron opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out as he floated further and further away from the asteroid, from the emptiness, falling towards the countless stars and supernovas and nebulas and galaxies that he had been admiring before being interrupted. Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours, and Ron just kept falling without anything changing, until, very suddenly, there was a cataclysmic explosion deep within the emptiness. He covered his face, his retinas throbbing in pain, hoping to protect himself, but he never even heard the sound of what he had witnessed.

Eventually, after a lot of self-convincing, he uncovered his face, and what he saw changed everything for him. The emptiness wasn't so empty, anymore. Instead, it resembled the very cosmos he was falling towards. Endless… possibilities… Did I just witness the Universe expanding? Fuck me… So… The inevitable isn't so inevitable, after all… Life finds a way… It just keeps on going, even when you think it's over… Even when you think you've reached the limit of what can be possible, it still surprises you… That's… beautiful… Life is beautiful…

Ron smiled tearfully, closing his eyes and stretching out his limbs. I want to live.

---

Author's Notes: Third Year is finally over! Rejoice!