Autumn 1991
Ronald Weasley
The great hall felt surprisingly different on Hallowe'en morning, a great murmur of excitement replacing the usual dreary exhaustion. Already, things had changed for the feast that night, the candles had shifted from their usual skeletal white to a pale pumpkin orange and between the plates of normal breakfast foods were loaves of barmbrack and small pies.
Ron finished his last spoonful with a satisfied grunt. He pushed his plate away and leaned back as far as he could without toppling over. Daphne and Tracey had left for the morning already leaving only Theo to give him intrigued glares. As usual, Blaise nursed a cup of tea.
"It's a waste, really," Theo said. "We could do so much more for the holidays."
Blaise gave him a questioning look. "What would you suggest?"
"Do I look like the headmaster, Zabini? I just don't think this place looks that different. I mean, what if they brought actual vampires here for the feast?"
"Vampires?" Ron said a little disgustedly. He had met one in Knockturn Alley and wasn't sure he wanted to meet another. They were creepy, cryptic, and apparently huge fans of his blood in particular. Definitely not creatures he wanted to associate with.
"Scared of vampires?" Theo raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you would have nothing to fear. I mean, especially if I'm nearby. Why would they waste time with your blood when I'm sitting here looking like a perfectly well-made dessert? They'd probably kneel before me and beg for a droplet."
Ron highly doubted that vampires begged. Moribund hadn't struck him as someone who served others.
"Have you met a vampire?" Blaise asked him with almost an interested tone.
"Not yet," Theo shrugged. "Unless you count Snape."
Ron couldn't help but laugh lightly at Theo's joke. He had said before, if he didn't know what a real vampire looked like, he would be almost sure that Professor Snape was one. The man had an entirely bat-like demeanour and almost seemed to float around the school lingering above shoulders and looking at the students as if they were prey.
"What about you, Weasley?" Theo asked. "Didn't I hear a rumour that a vampire lives in your attic?"
Ron frowned. "It's a ghoul, not a vampire." He felt a sudden rush of homesickness, missing the way the pipes banged at night. "But I have met a vampire," he added quickly, "in Knockturn Alley."
Theo's eyes widened and Blaise looked up from the table. "Knockturn Alley?" They both said simultaneously.
Ron .
"It's, uh, where I bought my wand," he stumbled. "You know, cheaper than Ollivander's."
"Now that is quite interesting," Theo said. "A wand from Knockturn Alley? It does have the trace doesn't it?"
"Yes," Ron said, a little disheartened. "I bought it from a vampire, at a shop called Moribund's."
"Probably taken from the body of one of the vampire's victims," Theo said. "Murderous creatures and all that."
Ron didn't bother to protest, after all, the vampire could have been lying about the origin of his wand. He didn't really mind, he still loved it nonetheless. Not because of where he got it, but because Charlie bought it for him.
"This is what I mean, Weasley. That there's something special about you. What kind of Gryffindor goes wand shopping in Knockturn? I'm sure most of them would be completely horrified." Theo gave him a bright smile. "I'm almost convincing myself that you are practising dark magic in your spare time."Close enough.
Ron shook his head, "Well you're both welcome to join me. I'm going to the library to look for some books." He still hadn't found anything that Salazar thought was useful.
"Books?" Theo grimaced. "Way to ruin the mood."
"I have to write some letters," Blaise added. "My mother hates it when I don't write back."
Ron nodded in understanding. Once again he felt bad for Blaise and wondered how a serial killer punished their child. Harry had told Ron all about what the Dursleys did, and he imagined that Madam Zabini could be just as bad. He wondered if Blaise ever slept in a cupboard beneath the stairs.
"Merlin, I'm surrounded by a couple of Ravenclaws," Theo said rather bitterly before standing from the table. "I guess I'll go find Tracey or someone who can make good conversation."
"Isn't she mad at you?" Blaise asked.
Theo's lips thinned into a slight frown. He didn't bother to defend himself, instead, he turned on his heel and marched away. His greasy dark hair was lost in the streams of other students.
"What did he do?" Ron asked. He had noticed that Tracey had been quieter than usual.
Blaise shrugged, "said something about Half-Bloods, I think. He's a true believer in blood status."
"A true git," Ron countered prompting a small smile from Blaise.
Seeing as they both had differing plans, Ron said a polite goodbye to Blaise and left the Slytherin table. He took his time to climb the stairs, hoping to give Blaise enough time to catch up if he wanted. Unfortunately, it seemed the letters were actually pressing and by the time he reached the library corridor, Ron was still alone.
The library was a labyrinth inside of a labyrinth. Hundreds of narrow rows stretched up and around the room traversing stairs and swirling across multiple floors. The thousands of shelves packed tightly with tens of thousands of bound books. An older witch, the librarian, prowled around the room breathing down student's necks. She reminded Ron vaguely of Snape, only her look did not carry so much contempt.
At the back of the library, tucked away behind its own iron-barred fencing, was the restricted section. A small golden rope hanging over the only opening, it wasn't exactly a terrible hurdle but it was enough to stop anyone from wandering in without having permission.
Ron still hadn't come up with a way to accomplish Salazar's mission. He had thought that he might have been able to get a teacher to provide him permission to enter the restricted area, but he couldn't think of a convincing lie. Snape would see through anything he said, and he wasn't sure that the other professors would be willing to trust a Slytherin. They were supposed to be neutral, but Ron had already realised that the house rivalry extended to staff and, despite their polite smiles, he could tell that some of them were concerned about his sorting. They reminded him painfully of his mother and the twins.
He sighed and made his way over to one of the small circular tables. Due to its immense size, the library never felt crowded even when there were many students about and Ron found a seat that would do nicely while he tried to find the spells Sal said he needed. While there weren't many combat books in the open section of the library, there were a great number of books on other subjects. Subjects which could, Ron hoped, incidentally have a useful spell or two. The scale of the task made him frown. He has never been an avid reader and he found it somewhat cruel that his first mission as the Guardian was to try and find a needle in a stack of books.
With a loose sense of determination, Ron abandoned some of his textbooks at the table to save his spot and dared to step into one of the rows of books. He ran his eyes along the spines taking note that not all of them were as old as he would have thought. Scattered among aged leather spines were shiny lettered titles that must have been the most recent additions.
It made Ron wonder if Hogwarts spent a great deal on books, and if so he wondered why Salazar's idea about a fund for poor students had never taken off. After all, there were already thousands of books in the library so it seemed they would hardly miss just a few. He decided that if he could muster the courage, he would bring the issue to Dumbledore the next time he saw the headmaster. It seemed strange to him that such a good idea could be lost to time.
Ron wandered his way into the charms section where he was more likely to find useful spells. The titles of books seemed to blur together into almost incomprehensible lists. He pulled some at random and flicked through the pages before setting them back. Even the few titles that stood out, such as'Charms To Achieve Victory', offered little more than vague notions on how someone might take a principle and develop it further. Ron had no interest in learning the complicated arithmancy required to do so. It left him no closer to his goal.
Ron leaned out one side of a row and stole a wishful look at the forbidden section. The librarian still lingered nearby, and he doubted he would be able to sneak in. At least not without serious risk.
Defeated, he turned back into the row and collided chest-first into another student. Both of them fell backwards, books and quills clattered around them like rain.
"Sorry," Ron mumbled while he gathered himself back to his feet. He winced slightly, his arm having taken the brunt of the fall.
"I doubt you are," the other voice said harshly. Ron glanced up at the girl's face, locking eyes with Hermione Granger. Her usually curly hair seemed almost unkempt and rustled. "It's what you like to do."
"Sorry?" He repeated, asking this time. The corners of his lips pulled downwards into a thin frown.
"Don't act like I'm stupid, you ran into me on purpose." She said, "And once Madam Pince finds out, I'll have you thrown from the library."
Ron gave her an annoyed look. It seemed that every time he met Granger she was blaming him for something. First for Malfoy and now for this. "I didn't hit you on purpose," he said quickly. "I was looking at books and turned around too quickly."
"Hardly," Hermione said back. "You were looking around the corner, probably trying to find Madam Pince. To make sure she didn't witness you do this."
"Do this?" He looked down at the scattering of books. "Why would I want to knock your things onto the floor?"
"I don't know, why do you do anything?! All the time, Slytherins harassing Gryffindors for no good reason! Don't think I don't hear the names that your housemates whisper."
"Names?" Ron shook his head. He had hardly heard any name-calling at all. Almost none were directed towards Granger.
"Oh, don't be stupid. The usual ones, you know, filthy mud-blood and know-it-all. It hurts you know, and none of you seem to care."
Has she really been called that?Ron felt a slight anger rise in his chest. He would have to ask Theo, he needed to get names. If Slytherins were harassing other students by calling them mudbloods then wasn't it his job to stop it? As Guardian? Or was that something Sal would think was childish?
"I haven't said anything," he defended. He wouldn't dream of calling someone such a disgusting word. There were barriers he was raised not to cross.
"Right," she almost laughed. "I'm sure you haven't. No one in Slytherin has ever done anything wrong. That's what you all like to claim, isn't it?"
"We do things wrong all the time."
"Exactly,' she said bitterly. "And you all take joy in it! It's so– so– completely despicable."
Ron could feel his face growing warm. He wondered if her words were the exact ones that the twins used when arguing with Percy.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped back. "We aren't all the same, and I didn't want to knock your stupid books out of your hands."
"You can keep the books," she said hotly. "They belong to the library."
Granger turned and marched away from him, her feet carrying her angrily.
"Git," Ron muttered coarsely.
Granger stopped at the end of the row and turned her head back over her shoulder. Tears poured down the flanks of her face, and her cheeks were beaten red. Without another word, she disappeared around the corner much faster than she had been walking.
A deeply uncomfortable feeling settled in Ron's did I say that?
His ears rang with ashen manic laughter.