Ten, eleven, twelve!

Ron finished the counting in his head right before he did the last pull up and let go of the bar. Perhaps he could have done a couple more but he needed the strength for what was to come next.

Meanwhile, his exercise partner declared, "My turn now."

Ron walked up next to him, drew out his wand and gradually took over levitating the pull-up bar that he was using a moment ago. The young guard then went to it and started doing his own series of pull ups. As soon as he began, Ron could feel through his magic as the bar wanted to drift up or down in opposite of the man's movements. He had to continuously adjust the strength of his levitation spell to compensate. It sounded easy but required absolute concentration so that he would correctly alter the spell at just the right time. Otherwise, he actually risked sending the pull-up bar into ceiling or crushing it down on the floor... along with its user.

"Ten... eleven..." the guard counted the last pull ups out loud before jumping down from the bar and causing it to briefly surge upwards before Ron managed to adjust for the dramatically reduced mass. He then levitated the bar down to the floor, seeing as they were now done with this exercise.

"Nice job, Ron," the man said. "I almost couldn't feel it fluctuating at all."

"Thanks Mike. It got away from me a little at the end though," he complained unhappily but his partner just snorted.

"Please... when I started, I couldn't keep the damn thing steady for the love of me!" he told him before muttering under his breath. "Bloody purebloods... never appreciate how easy they've got it."

Ron could not help but laugh at that.

His exercise partner was called Michael Wilson and he was a muggleborn wizard in service of House Greengrass. He was about 7 years older than Ron and for the past year, he has been training to become a full-fledged guard for the family.

"You realize I am considered a blood traitor by almost everybody, right?" Ron told him, to which the man immediately shot back.

"You realize you can stop being that literally any time you want, right? On the other hand, I certainly can't stop being a muggleborn."

"I suppose," Ron was forced to concede.

Ever since he started training with the household guards (mostly to pass the time while Harry and Daphne waged the war), he and Mike has often been exercising together. They quickly found a common ground over Mike's cynicism about the whole blood status issue. Ron was very surprised when he first heard some of his remarks but as the man explained, the Greengrasses did not really care about his personal attitude, so long as he acknowledged their supremacy and obeyed their orders.

"I try not to think in those terms anymore – mudblood, pureblood... there's way... way too much baggage and pain attached to those words. It's just what it is, you know?" Mike told him stoically even as they moved on to heavy weight lifting.

"Wingardium leviosa," the guard incanted, making a solid cube of metal weighting about half a tonne float in the center of the room.

Ron watched him as he maintained the spell. He was told to watch for signs of magical discharges... the so called bleeding. Basically, to float such a huge mass required one to steadily stream huge amounts of magical energy. And it took just a momentary lapse of concentration for that energy to go where it wasn't supposed to, manifesting as an observable phenomenon around the caster's body. It was supposedly somewhat more common among muggleborns, who did not have magical pathways so well trained in their bodies or lacked them altogether. It was not dangerous but rather wasteful as it lowered endurance and efficiency of one's spells. Basically, one's soul had to supply more magical energy to compensate for the bleeding and so it was best to learn how to avoid it completely.

Ron felt like he should let Mike concentrate but talking was encouraged during the exercise to simulate the chaos and distraction of battle conditions, so he did. "I was wondering... do you by any chance happen to know Nymphadora Tonks? I reckon she must be around your age," he said and automatically cringed to dodge a slap from the woman for speaking her first name. Ron knew she was very far away but old habits died hard. He wondered if she already had her baby...

"Actually... she was in my year... in Hufflepuff. Oh, and we called her Dora... you know her?" he asked while keeping his eyes on the weight.

"Yeah... she's a friend," Ron said wistfully.

Mike slowly lowered the weight and turned to Ron. "We were friends too while in school. But I haven't heard from her in years now," he told him before adding. "Last time we met, she said she was going to work for the Ministry?"

"Yeah... she's an auror now," he confirmed.

Mike whistled and said. "Good for her. You know, after school I also applied for training there."

"And?"

"It was great," Mike said while chuckling darkly. "I came for an interview, did all the written tests... even passed the practical. Everything went well."

"So what happened?" Ron asked with a frown. He assumed Michael failed the entry tests given that he ended up serving the Greengrasses instead but now he was saying that he got accepted?

"What do you think happened?" Mike asked bitterly even as he picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. "Some decrepit old wizard from the acceptance commission picked up my application and asked me if there are any hereditary magical abilities in my family and how high my parents ranked on the standard scale... that's what happened," he told him, saying the last part sarcastically.

When he saw Ron looking at him in confusion, he sighed and added. "That's another way for asking me if I am a muggleborn. By law, they couldn't ask directly about my blood status, you see. At least they couldn't back then... I suppose that's changed now," Mike said thoughtfully. "Anyway, when I told them my father is a postman and my mother a teacher at a primary school they quickly thanked me for coming and called for the next person," he finished the story, leaving Ron speechless.

"You– you mean they did not accept you because you are muggleborn?!" he finally asked, feeling deep anger at such blatant injustice.

Mike snorted. "Oh no no, they simply did not like people with brown hair... and OF COURSE it's because I am a muggleborn!" he said sarcastically. "Later, I learned that aurors NEVER accept muggleborns no matter how good they are. Not unless they are coming in recommended by one of the old pureblood families. All Ministry departments were like that to some degree. Though I heard it was worst with the law-enforcement."

Ron shook his head sadly, feeling outraged and disgusted. "Tonks never said anything about that..." he said with a frown.

"Of course she wouldn't," Mike said and waved his hand dismissively. "I happen to know her mother's maiden name is Black. Trust me... even if she's a halfblood, that opens a lot of doors for her. More than she probably realizes."

"She did not get accepted because of her mother but because she's good!" Ron stressed out to him, feeling a little annoyed over what Mike was insinuating.

The young guard put his hands up defensively. "I am not saying that. I know Dora's good, honest!" he said and Ron calmed down a little. "All I am saying is that if she was a muggleborn like me, then they wouldn't have accepted her. And the fact she's good wouldn't have meant a squat to anyone."

Ron stared at him for a while. "I am sorry that happened to you... I am," he said quietly and when Mike thanked him, he asked the obvious question. "But if you feel this way, then how...?"

"You mean how I ended up serving one of the oldest pureblood families in the country after being victimized by muggleborn discrimination?" he asked and Ron nodded.

Mike walked over to the side before saying, "Well... I guess that life is just an endless string of twisted little ironies," he said with that trademark sarcastic grin of his before adding calmly, "Your turn."

Ron stepped over to the weight and said, "Wingardium leviosa!" He watched and felt as the cube lifted about two meters in the air. He quickly adjusted that to about one meter and held it there.

Seeing as this exercise was more difficult for him than the previous ones, Mike watched him carefully. "Doing alright, Weasley... no bleeding that I can see." The guard walked around him to check from different sides but still did not find any bleeding. "Actually, your technique is pretty refined... who taught it to you?"

As soon as he said that, the image of chocolate eyes and bushy brown hair flashed in front of Ron's eyes...

BANG!

His momentary lapse of concentration made the weight fall down on the floor so hard that it created a dent. Both he and Mike jumped up in the air in fright. "Sorry!" Ron cried out even as he frantically looked around, expecting people to come running to see what happened.

But nobody came.

"The room is soundproofed," Mike explained to him before lifting the weight away and then fixing the cracked floor with his wand. "What?! You think this is the first time that happened to anybody?"

"I guess..." Ron said absentmindedly as he still thought of Hermione. He was briefly overwhelmed with impulse to run out of the room and save her from the way she was being treated. But before he could act on it, it gradually went away. Ron rubbed the wrist of his wand arm as it tingled like crazy from when he abruptly broke the spell, he assumed.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Mike asked. "What made you lose your concentration?"

"No, not really," Ron honestly admitted and the guard nodded after a while.

"Fair enough," he said even as he floated the weight back to its original place. Meanwhile Ron went to grab a towel to wipe his face. When he finally put it down, he just had to ask him, "How can you stand working for purebloods, Mike? After what we did to you I mean? How can you possibly think of us as your superiors?"

Mike paused, holding his own towel in hand before throwing it down and turning to look straight at Ron. "I have fought it for years, you know," he admitted. "After the Ministry rejected me and I learned why, I took it really hard. I blamed the purebloods. I blamed the magical society. I even tried to do something about it – visited muggleborn rights rallies, said a few speeches, got together with people who were just as angry about this as me... and I really thought I was making a difference. At least for a while," the guard said quietly before he went silent, seemingly deep in thought about those days.

"So what happened?" Ron asked after giving him a moment.

Mike looked at him and chuckled sadly. "Life happened, Weasley. It happens for everybody," he said and sighed. "I guess what finally did it for me was when I understood the reason why so many of my fellow muggleborns eventually stopped coming to our rallies and we never heard from them again."

"And why was that?" Ron wondered, feeling pre-emptive dread as he imagined all the worst explanations. But as it turned out, the reason was completely benign and ordinary.

"It's simple... they had kids," Mike told him the answer. "They had kids and so they no longer gave a damn about how muggleborns are treated."

"That's it?" Ron asked, completely befuddled. "They probably just did not have enough free time anymore, with baby on their hands," he told him.

He knew from personal experience how much time children required. After all, his mother never went to work for that reason and not because she was lazy as some gossipers insisted. In reality, they could have used the money and Ron remembered his parents discussing it many times over the years. But in the end, Molly Weasley had no choice but to be a stay-at-home mom so she could take care of Ron and his siblings. Ron only hoped that one day he would have a chance to thank her for everything she did for them.

"Things change when you have children," Ron told him with conviction. "It doesn't mean that your friends changed their minds or that they stopped caring about their rights!"

Mike shook his head. "You think that possibility did not occur to me? What you just said... for a long time I thought so too, before finally realizing that wasn't it at all," he told him before clarifying. "It's not that they didn't have time because they had kids or that their priorities changed. It's because they literally stopped caring when they had kids."

"I don't understand," Ron admitted, looking completely lost at this point.

Mike craned his head up. "How shall I put it..." he said and took a deep breath before focusing on Ron.

"There is one universal realization that all muggleborns eventually make after reaching a certain age," he began and seeing as Ron listened carefully, he continued, "And that realization is this – no matter what they do, their children will not be muggleborns like them – they will be halfbloods. And as such, they are not going to face the same stigma as they did. More so, they also realize their grandkids could actually belong to that privileged class that had crinkled their noses at them their whole life," he said. "So knowing that and realizing that the change will not come in their lifetime anyway, they simply accept the situation and stop caring," Mike concluded.

Ron stared at him in silence for a moment, thinking about what he just heard. In reality he never even thought of it that way. Perhaps he was simply too young for such a reflection. Or was it because he was a pureblood and problems faced by an average muggleborn were completely alien to him in spite of his pro-muggleborn opinions? Was Mike's appraisal really correct?

"I think you are wrong..." he finally said but there was doubt in his voice. "Surely your children would appreciate that their parents are not treated as dirt?" Ron suggested hopefully. He knew that the world they were living in was no fairytale. Good did not always triumph and as a general rule, people didn't live happily ever after. But what Mike just told him sounded so depressing and nihilistic that he simply could not accept it. He could not.

Mike sighed and said, "I don't really expect you to understand, Ron. You are young... and you are a pureblood. Blood traitor or not, you come from a world so different from mine that years ago, we would have both died within a day if we have switched places," he insisted and when Ron shook his head furiously, he continued. "You probably never heard about it. But there was a similar type of discrimination going on in the muggle world. Non-white people were legally considered as inferior in some countries only a few decades ago... they still are in others."

"Non-white..." Ron slowly repeated, befuddled by the term. He wondered if Mike meant people practicing dark magic or something like that. But then he remembered that muggles did not practice any magic. And then he finally recalled one of the conversations he had with Dean and he realized what Mike meant, "You mean... like the color of their skin?!" he asked in disbelief while thinking about how weird muggles truly were. He would never have imagined that someone might care about something like that. "How does that even matter?"

Mike shrugged. "Hell if I know. It mattered to the muggles, I guess. In any case, there was a massive social movement for equal rights that eventually succeeded. And do you know why?" he asked and immediately answered himself. "Because they were doing it for their children, Ron. Even hypothetical, unborn ones. Psychologically speaking, it's one of the most powerful motivations there is, you see. Much more powerful than just fighting for yourself."

"But your children will never be muggleborns..." Ron said, finally beginning to understand what Mike was trying to tell him.

"Exactly!" the young guard confirmed. "Why do you think that people like Dora's muggleborn father never bothered to make a single speech in support of muggleborn rights? If I remember correctly, he is a lawyer. His support would have been invaluable but he never even offered it! And I'll tell you why. It's because on some level he understood that more rights for muggleborns would have meant more competition and less of a chance for his daughter and his future grandkids," Mike told him before adding in a very serious voice. "And no parent is going to choose a small and uncertain chance of making his own life better knowing he would be definitely making his children's lives harder in the process."

"What about muggleborns that marry muggles?" Ron pointed out.

"They are, for all intents and purposes, out of the magical world," the young guard answered right back. "And they rarely come back. Not unless their kid turns out magical and that does not happen often. And even then, their child is still considered a halfblood and not a muggleborn."

Ron shook his head sadly. "And so that's when you gave up? What about the other muggleborns who will come after you? Does their suffering mean nothing to you?!" he hurled his questions at the man before he could take a pause to think. He immediately regretted his choice of words when he saw Mike's face harden.

What was it about him always putting his foot in his mouth? After they were captured, he did something similar to Astoria Greengrass while she was still grieving for her father. It earned him days of torture and humiliation at that girl's hands, all of which could have been easily avoided if he just thought more before he spoke. Ron was about to apologize when the man interrupted him.

"No, you are right... I gave up. But at least I am willing to admit it," Mike said slowly. "Truth is, I simply got tired of drifting... going from job to job, never moving on with my life while chasing some brighter future that all my friends eventually gave up on. And I knew that the muggleborns who will come after me might suffer but that they will eventually stop caring too. So yes, finally I had enough and I re-examined my priorities."

"So how did you wind up with Greengrasses?" Ron asked, eager to change the topic.

"I saw an ad for one of their companies and I applied. During the interview they asked me why I was applying... what was my motivation," Mike explained. "Unlike the Ministry, they directly asked me about my blood status. Asked me why a known pro-muggleborn activist was applying for a job with a pureblood family," he said and chuckled. "I think they suspected me of being a spy."

"And you convinced them otherwise?" Ron assumed.

"Actually, I told them pretty much everything I told you right now," Mike said. "I explained what had happened to me since I finished the school, including what I learned while fighting for equal rights for muggleborns. I expected they would tell me to fuck off. But to my shock... they accepted me."

"Just like that?" Ron asked, hardly able to believe that House Greengrass would just embrace a person with Mike's track record.

"Pretty much," Mike said and chuckled. "They said that I show a lot of promise for a mudblood and that they appreciate the positive change in my attitude," he explained while constantly making air-quotes with his fingers.

"And that's when you accepted pureblood supremacy?" Ron wondered.

"Of course not, that took me quite some time. First, I started working in the glass houses," Mike told him. "Not all people who work for House Greengrass believe in their superiority. Most do it simply for the pay check," he explained and shook his head. "No, I did not believe it at first but the more time I spent in their service... the more I learned... the more I could not ignore the fact that they really are very much different from me in almost every way. All that history riding on their backs... it's overwhelming to even imagine such pressure, let alone to actually bear it. It started me thinking that perhaps they really have some good reasons for viewing my kind with suspicion."

"Different does not mean superior or inferior. It just means different," Ron pointed out, having heard the phrase used by his father at one point.

"I suppose that's true," Mike admitted. "Even now I am not one hundred percent clear on how I feel about this. What I do know for certain is that there's just too much about magic that one cannot possibly hope to learn in a single lifetime. And I think it just might make sense for muggleborns to listen to families who had a chance to study it for generations," Mike said in contemplation before shaking his head.

"I mean, would giving muggleborns equal opportunities in everything really make the world a better place as I once believed?" the guard asked rhetorically. "Or would it just enable them to repeat the same mistakes over and over again in each generation? Mistakes that can all be avoided if purebloods are allowed to control and guide the newcomers?" Mike told him before pausing for a while to gather his thoughts.

"Anyway, I no longer blame purebloods for the way I was treated. Just as I don't blame all those muggleborns who eventually stopped coming to our rallies," he finished his speech even as he walked to the corner of the room and sat down on a bench. "It's like I said in the beginning... it's just what it is."

"But what about the dark lord?" Ron said as he went over to join him. "If the pureblood supremacy didn't exist, then there would be no war in the first place. Think of how many lives could have been saved if only we lived in a more equal society!"

Mike leaned back on the bench. "Ha – you really believe that?" he said even as he stretched his hands and folded them behind his head. "Dark lord is what muggles would call a populist. It means that he took the most sensitive and controversial topic there was and abused the hostility and people's passion on both sides to obtain support for his power grab," the guard insisted. "But he does not actually care about the ideology he spreads. Purebloods were a more convenient tool for him but he could have just as easily chosen to support and make use of muggleborns. And even if nothing like blood status existed, he would simply have used something else. He wanted a war and would have made it happen regardless."

At the end, Ron was really not sure what else to say and he felt kind of drained. "You have obviously given this a lot of thought," he just pointed out.

Mike waved his hand. "Can't take all the credit as some of it are my girlfriend's ideas. She actually researches this stuff... she's really clever and a true believer. Me? I am just a bitter old mudblood pushing thirty," he said and laughed.

Ron perked up a little at his words. "You have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she's a librarian here at the mansion."

Ron did a double take at that. "You mean Sue... Sue Li is your girlfriend?!"

Mike narrowed his eyes at his shocked tone. "What?! Just because I am a white guy, I can't have an Asian girlfriend?!" he snapped at Ron while folding his arms across his chest.

"What- no! I-"

But before he could stutter more, Mike burst out laughing hysterically. "I am just pulling your leg, Weasley! I am sometimes surprised too."

Ron laughed with him and then said thoughtfully. "I suppose you are really happy here, then."

Mike nodded resolutely. "I am. I have a well paying job, a training that I always wanted and a great girlfriend that I love. So yes, I feel that House Greengrass has given me far more than what they asked from me in return. They appreciate my special talents and helped me to become better and more powerful wizard," he explained before looking solemn as he declared. "For that I am grateful to them and willing to think of them as my superiors. For that, they have my loyalty."

Ron nodded in acceptance. Personally, he thought that Michael's attitude still felt like he essentially gave up. Perhaps in exchange for a very good life and perhaps even for some excellent personal reasons, but he still resigned on the idea of equal rights for muggleborns. And Ron did not know how he felt about that. On the other hand, he supposed that no one had the right to demand that Mike dedicates his entire life to the cause only to get nothing out of it. In the end, the young guard had a free choice and he made it.

It made Ron wonder what choice was Hermione going to make. When she finally has all the relevant information that Mike has been provided with, will she make the same choice or will she keep fighting for what she believes is right? Harry was of the opinion that Hermione will analyze the situation with her intelligence and cold logic and then come to some mutually beneficial agreement with Daphne Greengrass.

But Ron was not so sure. He feared that the pureblood girl will eventually offer Hermione one final chance to submit to her and that his friend is still going to refuse based on her principles... which might make Daphne do something drastic. He feared for Hermione's safety as long as she remained at that girl's mercy.

And Ron could not shake that fear despite Harry's repeated assurances that she can be trusted. When Daphne returned his wand to him, she made him swear on his honor that he wouldn't help Hermione to escape. He seriously considered breaking that oath as soon as he made it. He would gladly forsake honor to help his friends. But he also gave the same promise to Harry and that meant something to him. He had mistrusted or outright betrayed his best mate too many times despite him being almost always proven right in the end. He did not intend to betray him... ever again.

After momentarily losing himself in his thoughts, Ron suddenly realized that there was one strange detail of what Mike said. "Your special abilities?" he asked carefully. Although Mike was a very competent wizard, Ron did not see him demonstrate any abilities which would be considered as special. Mike was also not the type to brag and use such word needlessly.

The young guard looked at him with startled expression. "You picked up on that, huh... shit," he said before sighing. "Well, I suppose there is no harm in telling you... lady Greengrass wouldn't have returned your wand if she did not trust you. But I would ask you that you do not tell anyone about this," he pleaded and Ron quickly assured him that he wouldn't.

Having received his word, Mike stood up and drew his wand. "Wands out, Weasley!" he barked and Ron quickly followed his example as they both assumed the duelling pose. "You want to see my special ability... well, here it is," he said as he twirled his wand and Ron prepared himself to cast his most powerful shielding spell against potentially unknown magic.

But instead of sending a curse in his direction, Mike just... disappeared.

And not by disapparation or putting on a cloak of invisibility. Rather, he simply faded out of sight. At first, Ron assumed that he used a silent Disillusionment charm and so he cast a wide-field counter-spell on the room. But nothing happened.

And then things got really weird...

Ron thought he saw a movement in the corner of his eye but when he turned to look that way, there was nothing. "What the hell?!" he cursed. The floor creaked behind him and he spun around so fast he felt his muscles over-extending.

Again, he saw nothing but the empty exercise room.

"I am over here..." he heard Mike's voice faintly from behind him and then from two other directions. He cursed again and heard the man giggling in response.

Ron lowered his wand in frustration, feeling unsure what to do or where Mike was. It was almost like the wizard was everywhere around him and yet nowhere at the same time. Suddenly, he felt a strong arm putting him into a choke hold from behind and a wand pushing into his spine. "Bam! You're dead," Mike announced before letting go of him.

Ron turned around at once and this time, he could see the guard normally. "What the hell was that?!" he asked, feeling little angry at being made a fool but mostly genuinely interested in how Mike accomplished this.

"It's called an Illusion... and it's a very old and rare technique," Mike explained. "During my studies here, I realized that I had a talent for it."

"I felt like someone was messing with my head!" Ron accused him but there was admiration in his voice too.

Mike nodded. "That's exactly what it is. It attacks your opponent's senses. Nothing more, nothing else," he explained. "I wasn't actually invisible. Your brain just became convinced that you couldn't see me."

"Until you came close enough to slit my throat... that sounds pretty damn useful!" Ron exclaimed.

"Yes, it is. Perfect for stealth operations," the guard agreed. "It's most effective against those who never heard about it before. And given that it is very rare nowadays, many people didn't," Mike explained. "But those who are familiar with it could potentially resist the effects. Even you could probably learn to fight it, now that you know how it works."

"Can you show it to me again?" Ron asked.

"Yes... but later," Mike replied while glancing to the door. "Come... we need to meet with the others now," he reminded him and Ron nodded as the two of them walked out of the training room.