Alright! After last chapter, I have a cooldown one. As I said, I will be having a timeskip chapter, which I can cover in notes.

So this chapter will be a bit from Ron, and Dumbledore learning of the Camp somewhat. The knowledge of this will be brought to him politically, showing a bit of how the ministry covers up magical events, or at least tries to because Fudge is incompetent.

From there, we'll find a scene from Draco, which will answer the question that I was asked in previous chapters. "Why doesn't anyone just owl Ron?"

You'll find out now.

So, without further ado, let's continue.

—0—

Ron's eyes fluttered open once more. Instead of a dreary cabin where he was being hunted, he found himself looking up at an endless expanse of stars.

With a groan, Ron pushed himself to his feet, clutching his head as it throbbed with pain. "Whah happen'."

A series of scuttles caught his attention. Atop a rock sat Nib, winding silk around her front legs as a number of other spiders milled about. Following the line of arachnids, Ron found that the entire area was covered.

Tiny zebra spiders. Garden spiders. Huntsmans. They all scrabbled about, winding their silk in the same way that Nib was doing.

A tickle of Rons throat caused him to cough, and then retch. His face shifted to one of horror as a dozen tiny orb weavers spilled from his tongue. He wanted to scream, but found that he could not.

"Nib…" He spoke hoarsely. Magic, his voice felt sore. "What happened?"

The spider ceased in her weaving, setting aside her bundle of silk. "You killed the Djieien. You conquered it."

"Why does my throat hurt so bad." Ron rasped.

"Try not to speak, whisperer. You used the voice of the weaver."

"Weaver?"

"Some whisperers have been known to control spiders… to direct them as they see fit. It is a boon and a bane. Those unused to the power of the voice can injure themselves."

Ron looked around. "Why are they all here? And while we're at it, where is here?"

"Whisperer, this is the last question from you this night. I will not have you speak and injure yourself more." The small spider crawled from her spot on the rock and up to his shoulder. "They pulled you away when you collapsed. Brought you here, to a dried basin. Here you rest."

Ron blinked, prompting her to continue. When that wasn't enough, he motioned to the siders all around them.

"They are loyal to you. They wish to help you find your way to the man nests. They will hunt for you. They will run with you."

Ron grimaced. "Don't like spiders."

"Another word and I will sew your mouth closed with silk." Nib spoke. "The orblings had to crawl down your mouth to fix holes that you had made. Kept you from drowning in blood."

Ron grimaced and rubbed his throat. He didn't utter another word.

"Rest, Whisperer. Though you despise them, they guard you. Allow them this simple honor."

Ron did feel tired. With a shrug and a half nod, he sat down on the ground. "I know you said not to speak… but thank you."

Nib twitched as she crawled onto the ground.

"Every one of you."

The spiders surrounding Ron stopped their weaving for a few moments, before resuming their work. As he fell asleep, Nib led a small troop of arachnids over, covering him up with a blanket of silk.

—0—

"I don't know what to make of it Albus! It's not a real breach of the statute, but the magic was heard by thousands!"

Albus Dumbledore stood in the office for the Minister of magic, listening the the current minister, Cornelius Fudge, spout on about a magical breach of the statute of secrecy.

"We sent the aurors to investigate of course, but they simply found an empty field. Of course, the kicker is that field used to have a muggle summer camp built upon it! Now the muggles are asking questions, where did it go? How did it get demolished so quick? I never noticed!"

The elderly wizard stroked his long magnificent beard. "Was this summer camp used?"

"It had been abandoned for years! In fact, it was the base of several unfinished missing persons cases."

Albus hummed. "Interesting…"

"What should I do?" The minister asked. "We can't obliviate everyone?"

"Worry not Cornelius." Dumbledre smiled. "I will work with Madam Bones to make sure that this mess is cleaned up. In the meantime, have you had any luck in tracking the Weasley boy?"

The Minister calmed, his body shifting to one of underhanded confidence. "Now Albus, he is no longer a Weasley."

"Yet he is still a young wizard."

"You know as well as I that unaffiliated wizards and witches are on the same political level as convicts. They sully the streets, Albus."

His slimy demeanor was starting to get to the old wizard, but Albus held himself back a bit. "He is a child, Cornelius."

"With no legal guardian. He will have his wand snapped of course. No way to legally use magic at such an age. And along with that-"

"He is a ward of Hogwarts now Cornelius. It is how the law works. So, if you wish to say that he has no legal guardian, I can gladly remind you that I am the headmaster, and as such, custody falls to me."

Cornelius's face went white as Albus revealed his hand. He had indeed forgotten about the orphan law. It pushed the issue further in Albus's mind, that Cornelius had quite a bit of blood predjudice.

"O-of course. That is of course, m-my mistake."

Albus smiled, straightening his posture to be one that wasn't intimidating at all. "I'm happy we could come to an agreement Cornelius. Now… let me know of the location of this vanished camp. I would like to take a look at it myself."

"I-It's in the file." The minister gave up, flicking his wand and causing a few papers to fly to his hand. "Here."

"Thank you my friend." Dumbledore bowed, taking the papers. "I will let you know when it is all resolved."

The minister slumped as Albus left, muttering a few obscenities under his breath, before taking a moment to steady himself. With a sigh, he pulled out some parchment and began to write.

"My dearest madam Umbridge…"

—0—

Draco looked down at the parchment in his hands. A letter he had sent to Ron a few days ago.

Ron,

I must confess something to you. These past weeks, I have been having dreams of events… Very real events. I see newspaper headlines in the prophet days before they appear. I can recall each written article word for word.

There are days when my visions show me people that I know. Friends. Sometimes I see Hannah Abbot, older… injured. Dying. I saw Professor McGonnagal, lying at my feet. Begging for mercy before I kill her. I see visions of Scortwit, writhing in pain and scratching her face apart. And I see you…

Ron, I have seen so many visions of you. Alone. Cast away. Wandering the world with no one but a spider at your side. The spider sticks to your shoulder, and you talk to them as if they are a friend.

I am worried. One of my visions has come to pass. The first was Dobby… it was a minor dream, but. I predicted him being badly injured by one of the other elves, and my father killing saaid elf. It came to pass exactly as I saw…

Please, be careful. Please…

He hadn't left a signature. Ron would know his handwriting… But the fact that it came back with his owl meant that it was never delivered. Draco knew what it meant as well. Ronald Weasley, who he was, no longer existed.

He was only Ronald now. And there were so many Ronalds in the world, an owl, even a magical one, wouldn't be able to track him.

Draco grimaced as tears leaked from his eyes, spattering on the letter and making the ink run. He clenched his hand and crumpled the letter.

'Useless… you're useless.'

Draco screamed, hurling the crumpled up letter out of his still broken window. Whipping out his wand, his magic took on it's own shape, becoming a gout of fire that poured forward and reduced the flying ball of scrap to ash.

Draco fell to his knees and dropped his wand. His tears stained the wooden floors as he mourned. He wasn't fast enough. He couldn't save his friend.

'You're useless!'

"Master Draco!"

Draco whipped around at the sound of his elfs voice. Dobby began to tremble as he saw his masters grief filled eyes sharpen with rage. It was a deeper rage than he had ever seen in any of his masters, even Lucius, who had raised Dobby to be a proper elf for his son.

But this emotion was different. Dobby could tell. His master Draco had shown him kindness. He was different from his mean masters. Master Draco's rage was not aimed at Dobby, rather, at himself.

"M-master Draco. You is losing control again."

Draco's eyes softened as he looked around. His room bore black scorched spots from where his magic had turned violent. "Oh… oh no… Nonono…"

"Master Draco, it is fine. Dobby cans make an easy fix."

With a snap of his fingers, a bucket of paint appeared in the elfs hand, along with a brush. "I will paints the walls again master Draco. As punishment for not helping when yous went angry."

"Dobby, no…" Draco sighed, stumbling towards the goblin.

"Master Draco must lay down. His magics is all exhausted." The elf dropped his supplies and caught his master as he fell. "Master Draco must rest."

"Put me down by the wall… Dobby. I just need to sit."

Dobby paused, as if considering what would happen, before nodding and setting Draco down beside the wall.

"Are my parents home, Dobby?"

"Master Lucius is out for business sir. He will not return until tomorrow. Lady is out as well, shopping for medicines for you master Draco. She is worried. She will not be home until dinner is to be served."

Draco nodded. "A couple hours then… can you get an extr paintbrush Dobby?"

The elf bowed and conjured one. "Master Draco is wise. He knows that two brushes makes Dobby's work much faster."

Draco held out his hand. "Give it here."

The elf looked as if he had been slapped. "Master Draco does not wish for my service? Ohhh ohhh. Dobby is a bad elf sir… Dobby will punish himself with crushed fingers-"

"Dobby." Draco shook his head. "I want to help."

The elf shook his head. "Master Draco is a great wizard. Master Draco doesn't do lowly elf work."

Draco smiled softly. "Dobby… I order you, as your master. Come on now, let me help. We can consider it my own punishment."

"Master Draco's punishment? Whatever for?"

"For losing control, again. I made this mess. Maybe my magic should see just how much it takes to fix it." Draco nodded. "Do you think that it would work?"

"Oh… Master Draco be usings the painting to make his magic listen. Magic is beings bad for Master Draco." Dobby nodded, his ears flapping. "Dobby will allow Master Draco to help, but only with this wall."

Draco looked at the carnage around the room. "That seems like much too little, Dobby."

"Dobby will not be taking no for an answer sir. Dobby is a good elf. Dobby respects his great and powerful Master Draco."

The boy smiled as the elf handed him the brush. "Thanks Dobby…"

The elf gave a small smile. "Dobby is proud to be serving Master Draco…"

"Come on Dobby." The young boy smiled. Dobby could see the anger in his eyes vanishing little by little. "Sit with me, and paint."

Dobby walked over and stood by his master, refusing to sit. "House elves do not sit until master sleeps, or orders them."

Draco decided to let it go. They were side by side, and at least the elf was letting him help. Treating him better made him happier, and it took a bit of the guilt that Draco felt away.

Maybe everything would work out…

—0—

And that's the end of the chapter!

I hope my explanation of the owl post was okay. I thought it made sense, being as there are a lot of Ron's in the world. In fact, my grandfather, two of my uncles, and one of my cousins. All of them are named 'Ron'.

The spiders might be a bit confusing. I want to slowly make sure that Ron gets over his fear. Him facing the Djieien was part of that. Even if his magic took over to save him for a bit, I needed to show what I intend his gift to do. At its strongest, he can control spiders. At its base, it is just speech.

The way I do different magical languages in this is much different from others. Parseltongue is a coveted trait, because snakes must listen to a parselmouth.

With Scortwit, he starts out with the ability to simply talk to dragons, and after Gore kills his wife, he gets the ability to control them, though it does have drawbacks if he doesn't use it enough.

Rons spider speech gets stronger when he goes through hysteric magical growth in the face of danger. When faced with a spider who wants to hunt him, his magic adapts to save him on its own.

There will be many many more examples of this through the stories. There are so many creatures to explore in this world, from undead to tiny mammals, to even plants.

In addition to this, remember, while gifts are rare, they are passed on through families. So members of pureblood families will have gifts.

For example, through a mutation thanks to Voldemort, Draco has been able to have visions, some in relation to this timeline, and some simply memories from the last timeline.

Hnnah Abbot does not have a gift. I did talk about how she can project rune magic without the use of runestones, but that isn't a magical gift. It isn't passed on by bloodline, nor is it unique to a bloodline. Its simply a unique aspect of her magic that shows that she has more control over her power than the normal witch or wizard.

Professor McGonnagal is another one. She does not have any magical gift, and being an animagus doesn't count as it is a skill attained through a ritual.

Gifts will show up and be explained. Our main characters have their own gifts, but not all of their allies do.

As always, Leave a review.

Until next time, Adios.