A relatively light chapter, when compared to the previous ones. And shorter, too.

RON XXII

This year's Christmas was not the best Ron ever experienced, but it was probably the one he enjoyed the most. After four months of inhumane work at school, suffering that Umbridge's presence, he had never been so relieved for the holidays to arrive. His father was now recovering and doing very well, Harry was normal again after a short period during which he believed You-Know-Who had taken control over him, thanks to Hermione's and Ginny's intervention, so Ron could again enjoy time with his best friend. Hermione's presence also made the holidays far better. Percy's absence also made the atmosphere much better, although he would never say it aloud in his mother's presence. Grimmauld Place even looked like a merry place now, with all the decorations that were installed. Kreattur may wander while whispering everywhere, but even his presence couldn't destroy the merry atmosphere. Especially right now, as the whole family was walking along the corridor of St Mungo's along with Hermione, Harry, Mrs Evans, Mad-Eye, Mundungus and Lupin, heading towards their father's room. The sheepish attitude of his father when they entered his room couldn't even manage to make Ron look less positively at things today. They all greeted him and handed their gifts for him. Ron only realized something must be wrong when his mother asked his father.

"Everything all right, Arthur?"

"Fine, fine," Ron's father replied, way too quickly. Ron recognized this behavior as all Weasleys, both adults and children, behaved this way when they knew they did something his mother disapproved. "You… haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"

"No, why?"

"Nothing, nothing. Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Lily… This is absolutely wonderful!"

Ron's father truly looked ecstatic, though Ron wasn't sure why. He guessed that the book whose pages he began to turn immediately, filled with unmoving images, was about Muggle stuff, though it was always hard for Ron to tell. The cover page, which didn't move either, made him think to a white bird whose triangular wings were glued to its sides, with a tail like that of a shark, and a nose so pointy that Ron would not have wanted to sit on it at all costs. The cover page had only one word on it. Concorde.

Though his father really looked enthusiastic, Ron suspected he was also looking through the book to avoid his mother's gaze as she looked through and through at his father, as if searching for something that didn't fit.

"Arthur!" she almost shouted as she peered under his nightshirt. "You've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing it until tomorrow."

Their father was clearly looking afraid now. He took his covers and hid his chest under them. "No, no… It's nothing… It's…"

But like all his sons, Ron's father couldn't hide anything under the inquisitive stare of their mother. Whatever came soon, Ron was sure it would make her quite angry.

"Don't get upset, Molly," their father almost pleaded. "Augustus Pye had an idea. He's the Trainee Healer, you know… A lovely young chap… And very interested in… complementary medicine. I mean… some of these old Muggle remedies…"

Ron knew right away they were heading for disaster as his father went on under the severe gaze of his mother. He was divided between the desire to witness his mother beating their father, and his desire to avoid a potential outburst.

"They're called stitches, Molly, and…"

"Arthur…" To Ron's surprise, it was Mrs Evan's who had intervened, not his own mother. "Do you mean that you actually tried to sew and close your wound with this?"

If Harry's mother seemed uncertain about whether she should laugh at that, or consider it stupid, Ron's mother already seemed to have reached a stage where she could become Head the Department of Outrage, if there had been one in the Ministry. Others saw the writing on the walls as Lupin headed towards the werewolf in the room while Bill, Fred and George quickly excused themselves to grab a cup of tea, fighting to not laugh as they left the room.

"Well, Pye and I thought we could try… I mean, they haven't found an antidote yet… So Pye suggested we could try this…" Ron's father started to explain.

"And you went with it?" his wife asked, scandalized.

"They work very well, Molly, you know… on Muggle wounds… unfortunately…"

"I fancy a cup of tea," Harry said all of a sudden. Ron wasn't sure if he wanted to leave. Sometimes, it could be entertaining to see his mother berating his father. But a single look to his mother convinced him she was about to literally explode. Another look at Mrs Evan's confirmed that she also believed they would be better to leave now. And indeed, right when they closed the door behind them in the corridor, Ron, Harry, Ginny and Hermione heard his mother screaming.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?!"

They all walked away fast.

"You think Mad-Eye could calm your mother down?" Harry asked Ron.

"Mad-Eye? Calm her down?" Ron said, incredulous. "Why not rely on Mundungus while you're at it? My father will need more time to recover from her outburst than from that snake's bite."

"Typical Dad," Ginny said while shaking. She also seemed unsure as to whether they should laugh or feel exasperated. "Stitches… I ask you…"

"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds," Hermione said.

"It's true. I had some myself when I was eight," Harry revealed. Ron's eyes widened.

"What? Your mother let one of those nuts cut you open?" he asked, scandalized.

"They didn't open me. It was only a bad scratch I had during a football game. My leg was opened right above my ankle. I only needed a few, and they were gone after a week."

"An entire week? A Healer could have made it disappear in an instant."

"I was only eight, Ron. I didn't know back then that magic existed. My mother couldn't use it without telling me the truth."

"Sometimes, I don't understand your mother. Why hide that you were a wizard all this time?"

"Believe me, if you had a scar on your forehead and everyone was always staring at it, you would miss this time when you were just normal."

"I wonder where the tearoom is," Hermione interrupted.

"On the fifth floor," Harry answered.

Ron was about to continue their conversation, but a severe gaze from Hermione indicated it was better to not go on the same subject. Still, he couldn't understand why Harry's mother hid from him the whole time that he was a wizard. Maybe hide him what happened to his father or that he was famous, that he may understand. But Ron couldn't imagine living without knowing that he was a wizard for years. He wondered how Hermione had felt when she suddenly learned she was a witch.

"Hopefully," Ron finally said, "your mother may manage to calm mine down a little, Harry."

"I'm not sure even my mother could achieve such a feat," Harry replied with a grin.

They finally arrived on the fifth floor, having met no one of notice except portraits that diagnosed the worst diseases to each one of them, including one that that claimed Harry's scar was an early symptom of a so-called Splitting-Head complication, a rare occurrence following magical surgery. Ron wasn't even aware that surgeries were ever practiced in the wizarding world.

They finally arrived to the tearoom. Bill, Fred and George were already there, ordering their tea at the counter. Despite the many tables, the place was almost empty. Only two tables were occupied, one with a man and a woman whispering, and another where an old Healer with white hair was turning her back on them, writing on a clipboard as she drank some tea.

"So, how did it go?" Fred asked.

"Will Dad survive?" George further probed.

"He will, if Mom doesn't give him a heart attack," Ginny replied.

"Dad didn't choose the best time for Muggle experiences," Bill commented, while turning to the waiter. "Add three more cups of tea, please."

"Stitches," Fred said, looking pensive. "There might be some potential for jokes with that."

"Fred, George, it's not the time," Bill warned.

"What do you want, Bill. We are full of ideas."

"If only it was useful for your exams," Hermione commented.

"N.E.W.T.s are not going to help us much, Miss Prefect, I'm afraid," George replied. "We focus on other more important things. These last few days, we've finalized something that will literally… make people lose their heads."

"If you try anything dangerous…" Hermione began to warn.

"Don't worry. It's completely inoffensive. Well, except for people with soft hearts."

"Anything to say, Ron? Or have you forgotten you were Prefect too?" George asked.

Ron didn't dare to answer. He had more than enough problems with O.W.L.s and Umbridge and everyone else. He wouldn't add his brothers to the list.

"So speechless," Fred commented. "You disappoint us, Ron. We were beginning to respect you after you gave that detention to a Slytherin… despite the Umbridge threat."

"Yeah, that was a good deed," George added as they all grabbed their cups of tea and went to sit to an available table. "You proved us wrong, little brother. I never expected to be proud of a Prefect in the family."

"Hmm," Bill voiced, while Ron reddened, unsure whether he should feel proud or ashamed.

"This is not funny," Hermione warned. "It will probably get him into trouble with Umbridge. She didn't like it that he went over her head."

"It's her fault," Ginny commented dryly. "If she wants to control punishments in Hogwarts, she should write her decrees better. Though with the number she made, I suppose she relies more on quantity than quality."

"Hermione may be right though, Ron," Bill said. "You'll have to be careful. That Umbridge is a horrible person. Even goblins hate her."

"No wonder," Harry commented as he took a sip of tea.

"Well, that was worth it," Ron said. "Giving a detention to Goyle… If I lose my badge for that, it will have been for a good cause."

"She couldn't do it, can she?" Ginny asked.

"As far as I can tell, no," Hermione replied. "Umbridge has no power over the selection of Prefects."

"Though with her, we can expect anything," Harry noticed. "Who bets that one day she will adopt a decree giving her full power to revoke Prefects like she can revoke teachers?"

No one dared to bet.

"Well, to come back to the stitches," George went on, "I believe we have a golden opportunity for a new joke."

"Yeah, I totally agree," Fred voiced. "Anything can be turned into a good joke if you know what you're doing. And we know what we are doing."

"Considering the green and blue complexions you showed up with during your first week at school, I beg to disagree."

The Healer who was sitting alone had approached them, standing at the back of Fred, George and Bill while facing Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

Ron was caught by surprise when he looked at her. He had assumed the Healer was old because of her hair, but now that she was facing them, he realized she was in fact barely older than they were, maybe of Bill's age. The emblem embroidered on her uniform showed she was an accomplished Healer furthermore, not some trainee. Fred's and George's eyes turned round as they stared at each other in utter surprise, while Bill looked behind him and smiled widely the moment his eyes set on the young woman.

"Chiara! I didn't know you were working today."

"Yes, I am. Merry Christmas, Bill."

"You too, Merry Christmas." He stood up to hug the girl. He then turned to his two brothers. "Fred, George, you don't say hello to Healer Lobosca?"

In conspirators' way, the twins approached their heads and began to whisper loudly, making sure everyone heard them.

"Dear associate, is that who I believe it is?" George asked.

"Dear associate, I believe that we believe the same thing," Fred replied.

"Is that the person who turned our first two years into a nightmare?"

"Yes. This is the detector who always noticed we were faking illness and forced us to attend classes."

"Especially those in History of Magic. A true ordeal."

"Yes. Do you think she knows that we perfected our methods and managed to fake illness with success afterwards?"

"Unlikely. After she left, we managed to stay in the infirmary with way more success."

"What you don't know," the Healer with silver hair said very loudly, "is that Madam Pomfrey knew you were faking. Only, she forced you to take disgusting healing potions that were entirely useless to give you a lesson."

Both twins looked at her in utter amazement. "What? You've got to be kidding us," they said as a chorus.

"No, I'm not. You're not as brilliant as you think you are," she said with a satisfied smile.

"Everyone," Bill said, looking at Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry, "this is Chiara. She was at Hogwarts at the same time than Charlie and I."

"I suppose you are Ron and Ginny," she said with a smile towards Ron and his sister.

"Hi," Ginny said.

Ron was stunned. How could he have mistaken that girl for an old woman? Now that he looked more carefully, he noticed her hair was silvery, not white. It was as if he had believed Fleur Delacour's hair was yellow.

He then noticed that the Healer's gaze wandered over Harry's scar for a short time. Like always.

"It was good to meet you all. Unfortunately, I have rounds to do. Starting with your father," Chiara said.

"You better hurry. Our mother is so furious that she might unwillingly kill him," Fred said.

She rolled her eyes and left.

"We better follow her. She may need reinforcements," Bill said. They all followed him as he left the tearoom.

On their way, Harry told them this Healer reminded him of someone.

"Who?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "She just looks familiar."

When they approached the room again, Ron's mother was not screaming, but she was talking loud enough for them to hear her from the other extremity of the corridor.

"Playing with battryes and light bolbs is something, Arthur Weasley, but serving as Guinea pig for Muggle experiments…"

She stopped when the Healer with silver hair walked in. Their group arrived less than a minute later to see her discussing with their mother.

"Molly, I understand that you may be angry, but I swear, your husband was never in danger," the Healer was explaining when they walked in.

"I hope this Augustus Pye will be reprimanded! Muggle treatments, really!" their mother shouted.

"In fact, I gave my approval for this operation."

Ron's mother looked at the Healer in utter shock. "What?"

"Let me explain. We have tried all our usual treatments for this kind of wounds and more, but none is effective. Arthur's injury bleeds the moment we remove the bandages. So, under the suggestion of Pye and the approval of five Healers, we decided to try stitches."

Molly Weasley looked about to have an attack. "You…. You practice Muggle medicine here? You sew my husband as if he was a piece of cloth?"

"We gave him additional Blood-Replenishing Potions and had new bandages ready to be applied within the second. The truth is that Healer Pye used stitches on one of his patients last year. He had an open wound that we couldn't heal with conventional methods. So he tried stitches, and it worked. The patient was cured with the week. It appeared that his magical injury resisted to magical treatments, but not to that Muggle method. That's why we tried it with Arthur. We believed there might be a chance it could work. We took all precautions to avoid it going wrong, and we made sure we had his approval before trying. I regret it didn't work, but his life was never in danger."

Ron seldom saw his mother speechless. After a few moments, she stammered. "You… You could have asked me before… before…"

The young Healer replied very patiently. "Molly, you're not the person who is injured here. It is Arthur. We need his approval to give him treatments, not yours. I apologize if you felt wronged, but his life was never in danger. It was only another attempt to cure him, and like the others we did before, it sadly failed. We're still looking for an antidote."

Ron's mother was truly speechless now.

"Right," the Healer said, turning towards his father. "So, how are you today, Arthur."

"Good enough," he replied, seemingly relieved.

"Do you feel dizzy? Or weaker than usual? Have you noticed any change in your state since the last time we spoke?"

"No. I'm alright, as long as I lie down. The moment I try to go to the washrooms, I…"

"It's normal. The potions we give you allow you to feel better, but your body cannot overexert. We will try something else later today. Pye may have an idea. And this is not a Muggle remedy," she added for both him and his wife. "Now, I'll leave you. I see you have good company."

Indeed, Ron's father was the only one to have visit. No one else in the room had any. The werewolf patient, who Remus was standing next to, looked at him with envy until the Healer came to see him.

Soon, his father resumed opening in presents, which had been interrupted by their mother's outburst. He just opened the gift Harry gave him when he realized something.

"Hey, where is Lily?" he asked.

All looked around. "Hey, it's true. Where is my mother?" Harry asked.

"I know where she is," Mad-Eye.

Right when he was about to say it, a shout went through the room. Though it didn't come from Ron's mother this time.

"STOP SAYING THAT EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE!"

Ron looked at the origin. It came from his father's neighbor, the werewolf. The Healer was still talking to him.

"Sir, I never said everything would be fine or easy. I only said you still had a life ahead of you, and that it was useless to despair."

"And what would you want me to do? Ever since I was bitten, no one came to see me. Not my colleagues, nor my friends, nor my wife and my children. Even my parents refuse to come! They all have a good excuse. So don't come and tell me I can still have a life!"

"Yes, I will," the young Healer said very calmly and patiently. "Because you will still have a life, even if it will be different from the one you had before. And it will still be worth living."

"What do you know about that? You only have to deal with me during the day. The night, you go back home. And I'm pretty sure that the nights of full moon, the only thing different for you is that there is more light."

A heavy silence followed what he just said. The Healer's demeanor changed completely. Her voice was now icy when she talked to the patient.

"How old are you?" she asked him.

"I'm forty-eight, for what it's worth now," he replied angrily.

"I suppose you were also forty-eight when you got bitten."

"Yeah, I was," he snapped.

"Guess how old I was when it happened to me."

That time, the silence was not heavy. It was complete. And the anger on the man's face turned to confusion, then to utter surprise, and even terror.

He pointed in her direction. "You… You…"

"I was seven, sir. And there hasn't been a single full moon ever since when I haven't changed. That didn't stop me from studying, becoming Healer, and getting married. Even if I must seclude myself once every month. I managed to have a life. Do you know why? Because I didn't spend my time ruminating in my corner, complaining about what happened to me. Unlike you."

The man still looked terrified.

The young Healer breathed deeply and talked way more calmly next.

"I will let you fifteen minutes to calm down and think. Then I will come back and explain what we will do for the first full moon you will experience."

And then she walked away, looking at no one. Everybody's gazes followed her as she left.

Ron was the first to break the silence.

"That girl is a werewolf?"

Now he understood why she looked familiar to Harry. It was her hair. She had the same than Remus. He stared at Bill.

"I didn't know," his elder brother, who seemed as confused as everyone.

"We didn't know either," Fred and George said together.

"Merlin…" their father whispered. "I never would have guessed."

"I knew." Everyone looked at Remus who just spoke. "I have known Chiara for years. She didn't have it easy. Though it was far easier for her than for me. Dumbledore provided her with Wolfsbane Potions while she was studying at Hogwarts, and no one ever found out about her secret. Quite a feat, believe me, considering I barely held for a year."

"We had a classmate who was a werewolf?" Fred asked.

"Cool!" George added, excited all of a sudden. "I wish we had known before."

Please review.

Next chapter: Lily