Autumn 1991

Ronald Weasley

The parchment crinkled and the seal broke with a sharp snap as Ron tore through the edges of the envelope. His heart hammered sickly in his chest and he felt like he might throw up the chicken and porridge he had for breakfast. He knew that the moment was coming when his mother would finally send him a letter, no doubt another lashing about how much he was disappointing her, and yet he still wasn't prepared. The paper weighed almost nothing but still, his hands trembled as he struggled to hold it steadily.

Ron fell backwards into his bed and held the paper out in front of him, with a final breath he unfolded the note in the centre and cast his eyes across it.

He felt as if he could hardly breathe like some mad sorcerer had taken away all of the air in the room. The letter was almost worse than he feared, not a scathing condemnation of everything he had become, but instead a mild thing that seemed almost understanding. It made him feel terrible, his parents were ready to forgive him and he knew he was about to throw that forgiveness back in their faces. Once they knew, Ron squirmed, he imagined he would never be forgiven. Worse, his parents would be meeting with Dumbledore to talk about the troll which meant the conversation would have to be had in front of the headmaster. In some ways that was better but in others Ron knew it was much worse.

Although he knew the headmaster would try to be fair to him and portray the events on Hallowe'en as not entirely Ron's fault, he still felt ill. At least, if he had gone to his parents alone they would get entirely his side of the debate. Or, if the twins had sent them a letter they would have played up his crime to be something that it really wasn't and then Ron could walk things backwards. From the headmaster? Ron bit the inside of his cheek. He knew they would get nothing but the absolute truth, maybe even about how he had made Hermione cry.

Ron pushed himself out of his bed although he longed to simply flip over and cry himself to sleep. He needed advice on what to do and with Blaise doing homework in the library, there was only really one person he wanted to talk to. There was only one person at Hogwarts who understood his parents as well as he did.

Ron slipped out of the dormitories, through the common room, and into the corridors of the dungeon. He carried himself up a few flights of stairs until he waited impatiently outside of one of the charms classrooms. The nervous energy and sick feeling in his stomach willed his feet to carry him back and forth in short strides down the hall and back again. He couldn't help but think about how his mother might react.

His parents had already proven that they didn't trust him, he knew that every ounce of favour he had earned was wiped away when he was sorted. There wasn't any way that things were getting better after he had killed a troll. His parents weren't exactly involved in any programs for troll communities and his father didn't work for the Department of magical creatures but they were still both compassionate enough to see a troll as something of a person. Ron probably would have thought the same until the one that was in the school had tried to slam a tree branch through Hermione's skull. He couldn't help but think that what he did was for the best, Hermione had to mean more than whatever a troll could. And, he took a breath mid-stride, even a troll was the same as a wizard, he would have done the same to any wizard who had tried to kill her. He would do the same to any wizard who tried to kill Charlie.

At some point, the charms class had let out and the older students filtered around Ron like he were a rock wedged in the bank of a river. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs gave him strange looks as they passed and he was almost tempted to try and squeeze himself behind one of the suits of armour that lined the corridor just to avoid their gaze. He knew everyone around him thought about what he had done to the troll and he could feel the heat in their eyes as they looked at try to stop a troll without fucking killing it!

Finally, after what seemed like almost every Gryffindor in Percy's class, Ron managed to catch his brother's eye. Percy stopped short and gave Ron a confused look, a look that almost mimicked the panic in Ron's eyes. Without saying anything, Percy took Ron by the shoulder and led him to a small nook that was pressed into the wall at the end of the corridor.

"Are you alright?" Percy asked, his voice laced with concern. "Ron, you look like you've just been petrified."

Ron swallowed.I'm worried Mum is going to kill Dumbledore just so she can strangle me.

"I got another letter… from Mum," he said slowly.

Percy tensed, his shoulders lifting into the sides of his neck. "A bad one?"

"Er, not like last time," Ron shrugged. "It's… different. She and dad are going to meet the Headmaster tomorrow. He's going to tell them about what happened on Hallowe'en."

Percy's gaze softened. "Oh, I see. You know Ron, I've said it before and I'll say it again. You didn't do anything wrong. The headmaster knows you didn't, otherwise he would have given you detention." Percy's face sharpened slightly. "Really, it's kind of the professor's fault."

"I don't know," Ron reached up and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. How could it be the professor's fault? Ron asked himself. Someone had to have let the troll into the school and he couldn't have known it was going to happen. Ron shut his eyes gently, the only reason he was near the troll was because he had made Hermione cry. That wasn't the professor's fault, it was entirely his.

"It shouldn't have gotten into the school, and the professors should have known that Hermione was missing," Percy added. "No matter what you think about the situation, that's the truth. And Mum and Dad should be able to see that. You killed the troll in defence of another student. That's what Aurors do Ron, that's what people like the Minister are supposed to do. It's entirely what a hero would do, not some lowlife."

Ron cringed slightly. He didn't imagine that Aurors would put people in danger before saving them.

"What should I do?" Ron asked with a short breath. Maybe, he thought, he could beg Dumbledore to cancel the meeting.

Percy raised his hand to his chin and thought for a moment. "A letter," he said softly. "Mum's already sent you two, and you haven't replied. I replied to the last one for you. Write her a letter back explaining what happened before she can hear it from anyone else." Percy looked around a little ashamedly. "It's why the Ministry works with the prophet, so they can set things straight before anyone causes a panic. So only the truth comes out."

Ron bit the inside of his cheek. The last thing he wanted to do was write her a letter. On the best of days, Ron wasn't a great writer and on the worst, he scored poorly on some of their essays. On the other hand, Percy's suggestion was close to his original plan to explain things himself only without actually having to be face-to-face with his parents. Ron frowned. He didn't know what else to do and he couldn't think of anything better.

"Errol is too slow," Ron said idly. He could of course use a school owl…

"Burrow Hermes, I'm not using him," Percy said. "He'll be way faster, she'll get it today before Dad gets home from work."

Ron nodded and another explosion of anxiety swirled in his chest. Could he really explain what he had done? He took a laboured breath. He didn't have any choice.

- SS -

Ron pushed open the creaky owlery door and stepped inside, the dry cold air stabbing against his exposed skin. He looked among the owls searching for Hermes, only to have his gaze drawn to the opposite corner where locks of brown hair were hidden in the torrent of owl feathers. Hermione stood with a letter in one hand and a school owl resting on her opposite arm. The door behind Ron clicked closed and her head turned towards him.

"Oh," she said, blinking, "Ron."

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he said awkwardly. He couldn't help but think of the way her eyes had looked when they were filled with tears. He clutched his own letter a little tighter.

The letter wasn't the best thing that Ron had ever written, it was more like a series of events rather than anything proper, but Ron wasn't really sure how else to express what had happened. Hallowe'en seemed less like any other day and more like a blur of bad and okay moments tied together with his memories fading into an inky darkness that only restarted a few days later in the infirmary. He had also included a brief bit about appreciating his parents and how he was glad that they were accepting him being a Slytherin, but he wasn't sure if it was enough. After all, he grimaced, Hallowe'en was probably far out of whatever his parents suspected he might do. None of his other brothers had killed anything at Hogwarts. Even Fred's lackluster herbology skill hadn't yet poisoned anyone.

"It's alright," Hermione smiled. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something I heard today at breakfast."

Ron frowned. He wondered what terrible rumour the twins had decided to spread.

"I, er, heard about what happened with Malfoy," Hermione began carefully. "Someone said you hit him. And then Snape showed up?"

Ron raised an eyebrow, a terrible foreboding feeling crashing into him. "I didn't think that anyone had seen that."

Hermione gave him a pointed look. "I didn't hear much. Just that you… lost your temper. And that Snape had to break it up."

Ron flushed, his ears turning red. "Well, yeah. It wasn't like I planned on hitting him."

Hermione's expression softened. "I'm not here to judge you, Ron. I just… I wanted to make sure you're alright."

Ron shrugged. "I guess. Snape had me brew a potion, it wasn't that bad of a detention. Malfoy deserved it I guess, after what he said."

She tilted her head slightly. "What did he say?"

Ron hesitated, he couldn't help but think of Hermione crying. He thought for a moment of lying, of saying something was such an arse.

"He… um, he called you a name. He said that it was worthless that I risked my life to save yours or something like that. That mud blood whores deserved to die." The words felt sickly on Ron's lips.

"Oh…" Hermione gave him a distant look. Her eyes glistened slightly with moisture.

"I didn't think, I just hit him. I mean, he's one of them, isn't he? The students who keep calling you names?" Ron asked and Hermione nodded. "Well, maybe I taught him a lesson."

"Maybe…"

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Hermione. And I know it's not my place, it's just…"

"No, it's alright, Ron." She shook her head. "Malfoy deserved to be punched finally, I'm sorry you're the one who had to do it. I mean, especially after what happened with the troll."

Ron bit the inside of his cheek. "That's why I had to do it, I had called you a name and you almost died because of it."

"Ron, it wasn't really because of you…"

"You wouldn't have been in the girl's toilets if I hadn't said that to you. Even if I wasn't the first one that day, it doesn't matter, Hermione."

"Thank you," she said softly. "For saving my life."

"You don't have to do that, I didn't have a choice. And you've already thanked me."

"I know, but I just can't imagine what would have happened if you and Harry hadn't come to save me. I mean, I know I'm a good witch but I was just frozen, I felt like I couldn't move. And… Well, thank you for punching Malfoy. You didn't have to but… I'm glad you did."

"I'm glad too," Ron gave her a shy smile. He couldn't help but feel that he had somehow come out of the whole situation with Malfoy an entire step ahead. Snape hadn't really punished him, and he was seemingly getting the credit for finally teaching Malfoy a lesson. He only hoped that it would stay a rumour and that Malfoy wouldn't go crying to his father. Ron let the smile slip from his lips. The last thing he wanted was to fight with Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before glancing away. "I was just sending a letter to my parents. I'm really nervous about letting them know that I almost died. I'm afraid of how they will react."

Ron could feel the sudden weight of his own letter. "I kind of know how you feel. My parents don't know yet that I've killed a troll, I'm writing to tell them."

Hermione offered him a purposeful smile. "They'll be proud of you, won't they? Saving someone's life?"

Ron shifted. "I'm not sure."

Hermione's smile faltered. "They aren't… you know… like Malfoy are they?"

Ron shook his head. "No, nothing like that, they just aren't fans of my sorting and well… I'm afraid that they'll use this as another reason to think I'm something evil."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I see. They're kind of like how I was."

Ron nodded, it seemed to him that there were far too many people who cast blame on Slytherins. Sure, Malfoy was the worst but he didn't think all of the older Slytherins could possibly be that bad. And among the first years, there were just as many of them who were just trying to attend school as there were people like Malfoy. Well, Ron considered, maybe a few less, but he still wasn't sure what Theo's deal was. And it wasn't like the other houses were entirely good, his own brothers had made him cry just like he had made Hermione cry.

A sudden thought forced its way to the front of Ron's mind. After what the twins had done to him and Blaise he knew he needed to get revenge, that he needed to show them he wasn't weak. At the same time, he thought he could cast one stone and kill two birds. His lips bent upwards into a smirk.

"Hermione…" he said carefully. "Can I visit Gryffindor Tower?"