Autumn 1991
Ronald Weasley
Ron placed the small jar of bright orange liquid onto Snape's desk with a small content sigh of relief. Finally, he had some time before dinner where he could, if only for an hour, close his eyes and deal with some of his exhaustion. His eyes were heavier than he had ever thought possible, but he knew rest wouldn't come easy. It was likely he would still have nightmares waiting for him.
"Weasley, a word."
Ron stiffened, his breath catching in his throat and his entire body freezing in place. He turned slowly to face the potion's professor. His mind raced, combing through everything that had happened during that class, and he wondered if he had done anything ?He guessed. They hadn't told Snape they would be switching partners, and although the professor hadn't said anything earlier, Ron wondered if they had broken some kind of rule. He clenched his jaw tightly.
Snape didn't bother to elaborate, instead, he rose sharply from his chair and flicked his hand signalling Ron to follow him. Without protesting, Ron did, and every step flooded his chest with more weight. He reached into his pocket and sought the calming presence of his wand, but it made hardly any difference in drowning out his anxiety.
Snape led him through the dungeons and up a set of stairs back into the upper of this for a potion's partner?Ron asked himself. It sent a flash of adrenaline pumping through him as he realised that something else was going on. Grimly, he thought about Sal and what might happen if anyone found out. He knew it could have disastrous consequences for Charlie, but Ron had grown to like Sal too and didn't want anything to happen to him. He felt sweat return to his hair as he frantically tried to decide if it was worth the risk to run away from Snape.
Ron didn't have time to consider the option properly as they seemed to have arrived at their destination. Set into the wall of the corridor was a large gargoyle that was almost out of place among the other decorations of the castle. It was an ugly thing, with chips missing from its sculpt and paint that had withered away and left streaks of grossly maligned colour.
"Toffee Eclairs," Snape said softly. They were odd words for him to say, and he seemed to know it as he gave Ron a brief and disgusted stare.
The gargoyle almost seemed to huff as if it was alive before it shifted and stepped aside of a large hidden archway. Inside there was a circular staircase and the flicker of light from somewhere above.
"The Headmaster's Office," Snape informed, causing Ron's eyes to widen.
The headmaster!?He felt as if he would topple over like a lead weight. If the headmaster wanted to see him, then there was definitely something happening. Ron said a silent prayer, hoping that Sal was still a secret.
Snape motioned him forward and into the archway. As soon as Ron stepped onto the first stair, the gargoyle stepped back in place behind him. It settled into the arch with the sound of scraping rocks and left the staircase dimly lit. Professor Snape had not joined him, leaving Ron to venture upwards carefully on his own. He had to focus to make sure he didn't miss a step as he ascended the tight circle.
At the top, he stepped into a large decadent office where golden torches burned brightly and seemed to leave a shimmer of colour over the room. The room was a large almost circular oval with many windows interspaced with bookshelves and portraits. A hundred stern and weathered faces peered down from their frames and regarded Ron with mild curiosity. He felt shy from the attention and tried not to meet their gaze. Positioned in the floorspace laid out in front of Ron, were a number of spindly tables which were set with large silver instruments and statues. There was also a tall brass post upon which a small cage held a large reddish bird that stared at him much the same way as the portraits did. Finally, set between two more sets of stairs, was a large desk with a tall kind-faced wizard, the headmaster, behind it and a small woman in front of it.
"Aunt Muriel?" Ron asked dumbly. He hadn't seen his great-aunt in many years, at least not since Fred and George had set off a dungbomb under her chair.
The woman turned around in a very delicate manner and gave Ron a questioning look. "You need a haircut, Ronald."
She still looked a lot like Ron remembered her, with a beaky nose, sunken bloodshot eyes, and elongated bony fingers. She wore some horribly gaudy outfit consisting of deep orange robes with a pearl lining.
Ron opened his mouth to say something but he was immediately interrupted by the headmaster.
"It is good to see you Mr Weasley, I hope that your classes are going well?" Dumbledore asked him.
"Yes sir," Ron mumbled. His mind still floundered trying to piece together why his great aunt had decided to visit him at Hogwarts.
"Splendid, Splendid," Dumbledore said with a smile, his half-moon glasses dropping down to the tip of his nose. "I hope you do not mind me borrowing a bit of your time, but your great-aunt was quite insistent on seeing you. And, well, Mr Weasley, I have a feeling that such visits are always a good thing."
"Right," Ron said stiffly. He took one of the chairs in front of the headmaster's desk and sat down as politely as he could manage.
Although Ron found the situation to be a little odd, he was relieved that there didn't seem to be anything going on with Sal. At least, he couldn't imagine how Great-Aunt Muriel would find out that he was secretly training with a man who had died hundreds of years ago. Muriel was old, at least a hundred years old herself, but she definitely wasn't old enough to know much of anything about Salazar.
"Out with it, then," Muriel said briskly. She gave Ron an intrigued look that made him squirm slightly.
"Out with what?" He asked.
"Your sorting, Ronald," she rolled her eyes. "Tell me how it happened, what did you do to get put into Slytherin?"
Ron swallowed thickly, and he was almost sure that he saw Dumbledore lean a little closer. He regarded his Aunt cautiously,Why do you care what house I'm in, you old bat?
"The hat said I had ambition," he said. He had given the answer so many times that it was almost second nature. Despite what Daphne thought of him, he was very much a liar.
"Ambition?" Aunt Muriel said with a hint of shock. "Well, that is certainly unexpected. Well, it is about time one of you showed something that wasn't just to do with pumping out children or spitting on your history."
What are you talking about?Ron narrowed his gaze slightly. He had almost forgotten just how rude his great-aunt was. There were a few times during Christmas when she had deeply insulted his father. Of course, Ron knew his father didn't mind much, and it seemed Great-Aunt Muriel didn't either.
"You're not going to run away to Egypt are you?" She asked him carefully.
Ron tilted his head slightly. "Are you talking about Bill?"
"Yes, your brother William was a fine young man, at least some time ago. The best of you, he reminded me a lot of your Uncle Gideon. He could have been absolutely marvellous, but then he went and ran away to that blasted place, talking about Goblins and ancient Pharaohs." She said bitterly. "Yet, he was not a Slytherin. Which tells me that you might have something more to offer, Ronald."
Ron swallowed, he wasn't sure what she meant. "The hat didn't say anything else," he lied. "I was a hat stall, and well, it was Slytherin or Gryffindor."
Ron looked up and met the Headmaster's eyes. He felt a little guilty about lying in front of him, Dumbledore was supposed to be one of the best wizards to ever live. As they locked eyes, Ron almost imagined that Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly in the light. He felt the onset of a headache and looked back to his Great-Aunt.
"Yes, which makes me particularly interested. You know, Ronald, your grandmother, Arthur's mother, was Cederella Black. She was a Slytherin if there ever was one, as quick and as dangerous as any male wizard in the whole of Britain. It was a shame really, that your father turned out the way he did."
Ron's eyes grandmother was a Slytherin?! How come no one ever told me?!
"Was she really?" He asked quickly.
"Ah, yes, a remarkable witch," Dumbledore interjected. "I had the privilege of teaching her myself, back when I was merely a Professor"
Ron felt a sudden wave of emotion. He knew that the hat had sorted him into Slytherin because of what Sal had done, but the fact that his grandmother was a Slytherin made him doubt it for a moment. Perhaps he was where he always belonged. Maybe he took after her and not after either of his parents, after all, that was possible wasn't it?
"You don't look much like her," Muriel continued. "You have the look of a Weasley, but I see the Prewett in you too boy, your mother's cheeks." She shook her head. "A pity that she hadn't married someone else."
Ron clenched his jaw was that supposed to mean? What was wrong with his father?
"Ronald," Muriel continued, "there are only a few Prewetts left in this world. I never had children of my own, and well, your mother is all that exists elsewhere. I am looking at my great-nephews to find which one of you isn't entirely a disappointment so that I may make sure the Ministry doesn't pillage my property when I die."
"You want me to take your property?" He asked. He had never considered that Aunt Muriel might not have any more family members besides his family. It made him feel suddenly guilty that she no longer came over on Christmas. Even if she was unbearably rude, he resolved he would send her a Christmas letter this year.
"Don't be so ridiculous," she dismissed him. "I mean to split it among you and your brothers, or at least those that aren't entire disappointments. Yourself and William will do for now."
"Percy," Ron quickly added. If anyone was deserving of something, it was definitely Percy.
"The third-born?" she asked.
Ron nodded. "He's the reason I'm in Slytherin, I mean he taught me all about how magic worked before I started Hogwarts. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be doing so well."
Aunt Muriel pursed her lips. "Wasn't he always the quiet one? His head always stuck in a book?"
"Yes, he was a hat stall too. And well, he's the best of my brothers. He's going to be as good as Bill, if not better. And I mean, he wants to be Minister of Magic."
Aunt Muriel's eyes widened slightly. "Minister of Magic?" She looked up to Dumbledore.
"Percy Weasley is a most dedicated student," Dumbledore said with a wide smile. "I have no doubt he is destined to become a fine wizard, and he has a bright future ahead of him."
"Hmmph," she considered gently. "Very well, Ronald, I hope you are right about your brother. Better to have all three of you in case one of you turns out to be too disappointing. I hold hope that your brother, William, stops playing in the sand but hope is sometimes pointless. I'll have your brother brought here to speak to me, to make sure he is as good as you say."
Ron nodded at her. He didn't really care for Aunt Muriel, but if she was writing a will then he would be stupid not to include Percy. It was, in Ron's mind, better that Percy got something than the twins. Percy was going to help him make Britain a better place. Although, Ron doubted that Great-Aunt Muriel would ever consider the twins. He knew that she disliked them most of all, even before they hadprankedher.
"A haircut," she reminded him. "You look like a fool, Ronald."
Ron felt his cheeks grow pink. His hair wasn't that bad? Was it?
"Would you be so kind as to fetch your brother, Mr Weasley? I daresay that you will find him in the great hall, I believe." Dumbledore said with, what Ron was certain, was a twinkle in the eye. "And enjoy the remainder of your week, my boy."
Ron nodded and stood up from his chair. He mumbled a quick goodbye to his Great-Aunt and secretly hoped that she wouldn't call for him again. He made his way out of the office and back down the circular staircase. As if it sensed him coming, the gargoyle had already moved aside to allow him to pass. He took a deep breath when he was finally back in the corridors. His prayers had been answered, and as of yet, nobody seemed to know anything about Salazar.