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Chapter Text

Ron Weasley did not like Severus Snape, who glared at Harry the entire time he made his speech about the rules they'd have to uphold and the expectations they'd have to meet as Slytherins. He hated the man, despite him not having spoken a single word to him, despite him not sparing him a single glance all evening. He'd been at Hogwarts for all of a couple of hours and had already disappointed his bloodline and made a few enemies; he could tell it would be an interesting year. 

As soon as they were dismissed, he went into the room he'd be staying in for the rest of his first year, looking around immediately. Five beds arranged in a sort of arch, all four posters, and covered in green eiderdowns with curtains. They all had a wooden nightstand and school trunk at the foot of the bed. A wooden board, chair, dresser, and bookcase were located near the nightstand and window. The walls and floors were made of stone, and the dorm had a green carpet with the house crest and two spherical lamps. A wooden table in the center of the dormitory featured books, parchments, and a plant in a flower pot.

Harry chose the one closest to the door, so Ron chose the one right next to it.

He pulled out his wand and, as quietly as he could, murmured a few spells that would ensure his belongings stayed safe before doing the same for Harry. Luckily Draco wasn't in their room, so Ron took a moment to look his new roommates over. Blaise Zabini, he recognized him as the very last student sorted. He was a pureblood, and his mother was the suspect of several murders; not loud about his bigotry but he didn't associate with 'mudbloods' or 'blood traitors', so befriending him would be near impossible. 

The other two boys, Ron vaguely recognized because both belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight; Theodore Nott and Elias Travers. The Notts were known as blood supremacists, so both Harry and Ron would have to steer clear of him, but the Travers mostly kept to themselves, they weren't outwardly rude or hostile to others, so he might be safe. Zabini was a half-blood, and also a blood supremacist, but he wasn't confrontational, just rude, so it was best to be wary of him but not to exclude him; he needed allies, though that would be a challenge since so many people in Slytherin hated him. 

To avoid angering anyone else, he and Harry would need to begin studying about the expected etiquette of a pureblood. Luckily Ron was a quick learner, he just hoped his friend was too, because there would be so much more pressure on Harry. He was a Potter, so people expected great things from him. It wasn't exactly common knowledge that he was raised by Muggles, but Ron would catch him up; they would need every single advantage they could get.

He would have to write this all down in the morning, but it was too late now. The castle was huge, bigger than he ever imagined, so he needed a lot of energy to run around all day looking for his classes. He'd have to sit down with Harry and make out a game plan, but that was an issue for the following day, so Ron let himself fall into an uneasy sleep.

Ron was a very light sleeper, as a result of living with the twins. They liked to lay their traps whenever he was too out of it to notice, typically when he was tired or distracted, which led to excellent spatial awareness. He woke up as soon as he heard the other three boys stirring, starting their day. He sat up, yawning slightly and wanting to lay back down; the bed was the softest thing he'd ever felt, and he wanted nothing more than to keep sleeping, but he had a busy day ahead of him, so he reached out to open the curtain.

As soon as he did so, he flinched back at the tired, emerald eyes staring at him. Harry's hair was far messier than it had been the day before; he'd likely just woken up, and Ron's heart was warm that as soon as Harry awoke, he sought him out specifically. To him, it further proved that Harry was his, and Ron was Harry's. They belonged to each other, they needed each other.

He smiled at his friend, reaching up to try and tame his own bedhead a bit before getting up and going to his trunk, located at the foot of his bed, looking for his robes. He put them on his bed and got back on it, closing the curtains as he rushed to get changed.

All the boys in the dorm were awake at that point but no words were exchanged as they all went into the bathroom at the same time, all brushing their teeth and going about their morning routines. They still had a whole before classes started, so Zabini and Nott headed out, while Ron tried to help a hopeless Harry tame his wild curls. Travers saw their struggle and was kind enough to give them a bit of his hair gel. That barely did a thing, so he sat with them as they tried to make Harry look presentable.

At least the Potter sat still, letting them do whatever to his hair. 

After twenty minutes, there was significant progress. Harry looked surprisingly good by the time they were done, and the three boys made their way down to the Great Hall together. Elias was surprisingly eager to talk to the other two boys, and not in a nosy way; he was lonely, and he just wanted a friend or two, which he found in Ron and Harry. 

"I can write to my parents and ask them for a few more containers of my hair products, and give them to you since we have the same hair type?" He said, nervously, to which Harry blinked in surprise before nodding eagerly. "That would be brilliant! Thank you! Please let me know how much they cost, I'll pay you back as soon as I can. I'm...very new to magic, and banks. The goblins are intimidating." He said, muttering the last part under his breath.

Ron laughed, smiling at the other two. "Don't worry, I can help you with that. It's easy, you typically have to go to the bank in person to withdraw anything from your vault, which you can't do because only third years and up are allowed to leave the castle outside of breaks, or you can send them a letter with proof of identity, like blood. Be careful though, don't send a lot, only a drop or two. A lot of nasty magic can be done with blood." 

"Nasty magic?" Harry asked, looking to his right, where Ron walked beside him; Elias walked on Harry's left.

Ron took a moment to figure out how to word his response, knowing he'd have to be mindful of his words. Every witch and wizard was more inclined to a certain type of magic; Weasleys were typically light, Potters grey, and Travers were dark. 

"Yeah, some pretty painful curses could be attached to a person using blood. There's also tons of rituals that require blood, and for someone so new to the magic word, the absolute last thing you need is to be involved in a ritual in any way." He said, trying to think of anything he could add, but nothing more came to mind.

"What kind of rituals? What do they do? Can anyone perform rituals?" Harry asked, looking up at Ron. Elias was looking at the redhead too, studying him, trying to see how he responded; gauging what type of person he was, and what his beliefs were. 

"Well, like I said, there's a ton of rituals; some need blood, some don't, it depends on which one you're trying to do. Each ritual is different in a lot of ways; they all have different requirements and results. And  technically , everyone can perform a ritual, but a lot of them are banned because of prejudice or because they're dangerous. On top of that, rituals and spells come easier for some than they do for others. Let's say you wanted to perform a darker ritual, it would come easier to you or Elias than it would to me, probably. Everyone's magic is different too; some people lean more towards light magic, some to dark, and some don't lean anywhere. Potters are known for typically being a grey family, while Weasleys are light, and Travers are dark. Which magic you're more inclined to doesn't necessarily mean anything though. You can do any type of magic, the type you're more inclined to just means it'll be easier for you, and your type of magic doesn't affect your morality at all; that's a common, and stupid, misconception." Ron said, choosing his words carefully.

He looked at Elias, whose shoulders released some tension that he hadn't even noticed was there. The other boy nodded at him, looking forward. Harry was looking down, and Ron could tell his mind was going a mile a minute, trying to process all of the information he'd just been told.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Harry spoke up again. "What did you mean when you said that darker rituals would come easier to me or Elias than you probably? Why say probably?" He asked, and Ron tilted his head slightly to the side as he answered. "Well, like I said before, Weasleys are typically light, but I think I'm not. I mean, it's uncommon but not entirely unheard of for someone to have a different type of magic core than the rest of their family."

"Is there like, some kind of test or spell you can do to see?" Harry asked, and this time it was Elias that responded. "Yeah, at Gringotts, they can do all sorts of tests. Ancestry tests, core tests, even creature tests! I want to get some done one day, to see what I'm made up of. Are you going to do one, Ron?"

Ron thought for a minute before shrugging. "Sure, I'm curious. I think I'll do the core test first, and then a while later, maybe in a year or two, do the creature test. I'm not all that curious about my family, my ancestors, so I don't feel the need to check who they were. Are you going to get any done, Harry?" He asked, and Harry nodded eagerly, looking at the two of them with stars in his eyes and a wide grin on his face. 

"For sure! They sound so cool! What's the creature test?" He asked brightly, and Ron answered. "A blood test, to see if you have any creature heritage. It's recommended to take those young, so if you do, when it kicks in, it won't be unexpected; most creature genes are dormant until certain ages."

"Oh! That sounds really cool! Maybe you can take your core test when I send in my letter for the withdrawal? Actually, no, we can take the core test together; I want to take one too. Will you take it with us, Elias?" Harry asked, his head tilted as he looked over at the pale, brown-haired boy, who shrugged. "I don't know, I've never had reason to believe I might have creature heritage." He said.

"But like Ron said, what if you do? If you take the test, you'll know before the genes kick in, and you'll have time to prepare. If you don't, what do you lose? How much does the test cost?" Harry asks, aiming the question at Ron. "They're all a Sickle and three Knuts, not very expensive."

Harry then pointed at Ron while looking at Elias. "See! You don't lose anything by taking a test, you can gain valuable knowledge though." He said, and Elias playfully sighed as he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll take a core test with you two. When do you want to do it? I say over a weekend because then we can either ask an older student to get us the tests, or just ask to get smuggled out. My older brother is a sixth year, he'd be willing to do either, and the merpeople are willing to swim you up to shore, I can teach you a charm to make a bubble around your head so you can breathe." 

"Alright, I think it would be better to go in person, because since we're already going to the bank then Harry can make the withdrawal, no need to send blood," Ron said, receiving nods from his friends. Before they could say another word, they arrived at the Great Hall. They all entered and quickly walked over to the Slytherin table, sitting at the very end; everyone else gave them a wide berth for the moment, but Ron knew the space they were being given wouldn't last. 

He cast a quick  Tempus  and saw that it was 7:25, breakfast didn't end until 8:30 and their first class didn't start until 9:00, which gave them plenty of time to eat and make a plan for the day. 

Ron filled his plate, and he made sure both his friends had decent amounts of food on their plates too before he started to eat. Mail typically came in at 8:00, and he was anticipating a howler from his mother. 

He ate fairly quickly, finishing at 7:57. He cleaned the area around him and regretfully asked Harry to scoot down a bit. "Why?" Harry had asked, and Ron sighed. "Mail's arriving soon, at 8, and I know I'm getting a Howler. No doubt Fred and George snitched to Mom and Dad about what house I got sorted into, and like I said before, Weasleys are light, while Slytherins are often seen as dark; my mom is going to be  livid . Howlers are letters, but they yell their contents to you, and they explode if you don't open them in a specific time frame. Time will almost be up by the time it gets here, meaning it'll explode, and I don't want you to get started by the yelling or the fire, cause they go up in flames as soon as they're done; leaving behind nothing but ash." He says, and his friend looks at him sadly before scooting even closer and reaching out to grab the redhead's hand. 

"Then I think I'll stay right where I'm at, I don't want you to get yelled at alone; especially over something so stupid." He said, and Ron smiled at the smaller boy. Elias looked at them from across the table, puzzled, before shaking his head and going back to his letter. He was eating as he wrote, asking his parents for more of his hair products.

They stayed like that for another minute, before hundreds, if not thousands, of owls flooded the Great Hall, flying high and carrying letters and packages of all sizes before landing in front of their owners. As Ron expected, Errol was one of the last to arrive, almost landing on Elias' plate. He took the red letter the bird held, and Harry fed him bits of food while Ron waited for it to explode, which only took a few moments.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" It shouted out, rearranging itself into the shape of a mouth and using the voice of who everyone could only assume to be Mrs. Weasley.

The Great Hall suddenly went silent, exactly like it had the night before, during the sortings. Ron looked at the floating letter with a bored expression on his face, his mouth set in a firm line and stony glint in his eyes. He ignored everyone that was looking at him, focusing only on the warmth and weight of Harry's hand held tightly in his.

"HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO YOUR FAMILY?! WE DID NOT RAISE YOU LIKE THIS! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE ON OUR WAY TO HOGWARTS RIGHT NOW TO GET YOU RESORTED! WE DID NOT RAISE A  SNAKE !" It hissed, and Ron clutched Harry's hand tighter. The boy had flinched when it first exploded and when the yelling began, but he hadn't made a move to let go of Ron's hand or to move away from him. Ron appreciated it more than he could say, that his best friend was willing to sit through something that obviously scared him on Ron's behalf. 

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?! HOW COULD YOU DISAPPOINT US LIKE THIS?! YOU HAVE BROUGHT SHAME ONTO OUR FAMILY NAME! TRUST THAT THIS ISN'T OVER RONALD, WE WILL SEE YOU AND YOUR BROTHERS SOON!" It finished, and everyone kept staring at the youngest Weasley at Hogwarts. He didn't flinch as the Howler burst into flames, instead staring down at the pile of ashes, his eyes alight with rage.

He gave one last squeeze to Harry's hand and a final nod to Elias before he slammed his hands down on the table as loud as he could, standing and marching to the Gryffindor table. 

He immediately found Fred and George, snarling at them as he  seethed . Both his brothers tensed as he approached, it made him fight a smirk as his brothers shifted uneasily in their seats at the sight of him. He had always been vindictive, and it was such an addictive feeling to see the siblings that had tormented him for so long fear him.

He came up behind them, resting a hand on each's shoulders and squeezing tightly as he leaned down to whisper in their ears. "Let's go outside to wait for Mother,  shall we ?" He hissed, and he finally smirked as he felt their flinches. He didn't even give them the chance to respond, he just let go of them and turned on his heel, storming out of the Great Hall with his shoulders squared and his head held high. 

If it was a snake his family wanted, it would be a snake they would get.

Fred immediately sought out Errol as soon as the owls arrived, carrying mail. He knew his family owl would be among the last, so he waited patiently, to see how his parents would respond to the letter George had sent out last night. He personally hadn't approved, he knew his mother had a hair-trigger temper and he knew how easy it was to set her off; It had been his goal most of his life after all, to see how far she could be pushed before she snapped.

Howlers were rare at Hogwarts because most families preferred to handle their drama in private, and parents rarely sent them to their children to spare them the public humiliation. Molly Weasley apparently didn't share the same sentiments, shaming her youngest son in front of everyone at Hogwarts.

Fred felt his heart break as he looked over to his youngest brother, who stared at the Howler as he was told he was a disappointment, a snake, shameful. He watched as Ron didn't even flinch under the barrage of insults, he watched as his brother only tilted his head, his eyes cold and stony as he was yelled at in front of everyone.

The Howler went up in flames, and finally, that cold mask  broke . His eyes which had been so  cold  only moments before seemed to be  ablaze  with rage as Ron slammed both hands down on the table, standing up swiftly and marching to the Gryffindor table. There was a vicious snarl on his face and his eyes were locked onto Fred and George, glaring at them. 

He should have fought harder against his twin last night, and should have stopped George from sending that letter because Fred  knew  that this was where it would lead, he  knew  this would be the outcome. And yet, despite knowing, he was still surprised his mother would truly go this far. He hadn't thought her capable of spewing the venom she did, and yet he had heard it, as clear as day; no one in the Great Hall didn't hear it.

Fred's eyes stung with tears of hurt as Ron marched over to them, so he looked down at the table, breaking eye contact with his baby brother; that didn't deter Ron in the slightest. He tensed up, beginning to shift uneasily in his seat the closer his brother got. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see George do the same.

He flinched when a cold hand slammed down on his shoulder, squeezing tight enough that the nails dug into his skin, but he didn't dare breathe a word; he wanted to avoid his brother's ire as much as he could, despite knowing it was inevitable. This was the angriest he'd seen Ron in a very, very long time.

"Let's go outside to wait for Mother,  shall we ?" His baby brother hissed, and Fred couldn't blame him the slightest bit; not when he knew he'd be just as angry if the roles were reversed. George had no right to tell their mother where he'd been sorted; Ron should have been the one to do that. A sorting was public, but it was also private in the way that it was the talk of the castle, but rarely left it. It was uncommon for someone to tell their parents or relatives of a sorting besides their own, because a sorting was the result of something going deep in your mind and seeing every single bit of you and revealing it; it was intimate and private in a way no one could describe.

Ron should have had the chance to tell their family on his own time, before being publicly humiliated in front of everyone. Especially when he was both a Slytherin and a blood traitor; every day would already be a fight for survival in such a competitive and hostile environment, worsened by the fact that it seemed not even his parents cared for him.

Ron had no one to support him besides a boy he met yesterday and a boy he'd met this morning; Fred knew he was a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight but he had no idea which family specifically. He technically had Bill, but he was always busy, and Charlie, who was in a different country and also constantly busy, but in more danger. Percy wasn't good at supporting others, Ron had long since lost trust in him and George, and he'd never been particularly close with Ginny because she had her niche, she was a girl. He'd always been the outsider in their family, the black sheep.

Neither he nor George said a word as they were released, he only watched with a heavy heart as Ron turned on his heel and stormed out.

He looked at George sadly, who was looking back at him in horror. "I think, George, that we might have made an enemy of our baby brother." He said softly as he stood and followed Ron out, dreading the day already. 

He dreaded the argument he'd bear witness to when his parents finally arrived and mom demanded a resorting; it was a quick and easy thing, but Ron was determined to go to Slytherin, and when he'd walked into the Great Hall that morning he had actually seemed  happy  as he chatted with two of his year-mates. Ron would do whatever it took to remain in Slytherin, and when he got resorted but remained in the house of snakes, the following screaming match would be nothing less than explosive. 

He knew his words to George had been true; they had made an enemy out of Ron a long time ago, when they first began tormenting him. Now that he had more freedom than ever before, Fred fully expected retaliation; he didn't know what kind. 

That Howler had effectively burned what little remained of the bridge between their family and Ron; it served only to further ostracize him. He didn't know what his mother expected, pulling a stunt like that, or what his father was thinking, letting her send it, but he hoped they were happy with the result; they served to sever what little remained of the bond between them and their youngest son.

Ron was waiting for him outside of the Great Hall, leaning against a wall and glaring. "Lead the way, dearest brother of mine." He said mockingly, with an empty smile and even emptier eyes.

Fred turned and began heading to Dumbledore's office; a path he knew by heart at this point. He ignored the pair of light footsteps that followed him, he ignored the pair of footsteps that matched his exactly that joined them a moment later, rushing to catch up; he focused only on the halls ahead of them.

Hogwarts was a maze to those who didn't know it, but Fred had walked through these halls millions of times in the three years he'd been a student; he knew the castle like the back of his hand. Leading the two behind him, they arrived at Headmaster Dumbledore's door minutes later, and just as he raised his hand to knock, Fred lowered it as the door opened and the headmaster beckoned them in.

Molly, Arthur, and Ginny were already inside.

As soon as Ron, who was beside George, entered the room, the tension skyrocketed. Mrs. Weasley gasped and Mr. Weasley took a sharp breath, while Ginny just smiled and waved to three of her elder brothers. All three waved back, though Ron's was more hesitant.

"I thought...George had been exaggerating, when he said you were a Slytherin. I had hoped he was joking, and yet here you are, wearing a snake's colors." Molly said, shocked and disappointed. Fred bit down on the side of his cheek hard, hard enough to draw blood, because he knew how angry his brother was; he'd been on the receiving hand of that anger not ten minutes prior, and it was terrifying. So he'd let that anger burn its course by going toe-to-toe with the original bearer of the Weasley anger issues, and he'd do his best to pick up the pieces afterward; he hoped there was something left to salvage when it was all over.

Actually.

Just as Ron took a step forward, glare firmly back in place, Fred gently put a hand on his shoulder and nudged him back. He'd defend his brother this time.

"You thought George was lying and yet you still wrote a Howler and sent it? You still called Ron a disappointment and said he brought shame onto our family? You yelled at him in front of everyone, you publicly humiliated him in front of the whole fucking school over something you assumed was a joke? Even if it was true, which clearly it is, you decided to go and ruin any chance he might have had of surviving in that house?" He said, incredulous. Now his own temper was rearing its head, and it brought him a sense of vindictive joy when she actually took a step back when he stepped forward.

"It's Ron's second day here, he's part of a blood traitor family in a house full of purebloods, with a Head of House that hates us all, and you decided to ruin his chances of survival with that fucking howler? What do you think is going to happen to him? I'm trying, for once in my fucking life, to be there for him after being an utter ass to him his whole life, and I can't do that if he hates us all, which is the path you're putting him on!" He shouted, still slowly walking towards his mother.

The slap was, sadly, not completely unexpected. 

"How dare you speak to me like that young man! I am your MOTHER! You have NO RIGHT to take that tone with me!" She shouted back, and now it was George who gently pushed him back, taking his place. 

"Oh! You're our mother, you say. Alright then, who am I?" He says, eyes narrowed and shoulders squared. Molly flounders, George pushes on. "What was my first word? Or Ron's, actually. What's his favorite color? Who's he closest to?" He presses, and Molly takes another step back. Arthur watches with cold eyes, out of place on such a warm, kind man, but Fred finally sees where Ron gets it from. 

Ginny sat down on one of the couches in the office and was kicking her feet absentmindedly as she watched them fight; Fred almost went to sit with her but decided that Ron needed him more right then. "You say you're our mother and yet you're never actually there! You don't know anything about us! You don't even know  who   I am!"  George seethes, his voice steadily rising in volume. 

"THAT IS  ENOUGH !" She hisses, and George immediately shuts up, but he doesn't stand down. "Ron will get resorted, and he will go to Gryffindor. You two will be dealt with  later ." She says, and Ron snarls at her, but he doesn't fight. 

The headmaster gets the Sorting Hat, and Ron walks to the center of the room, his face expressionless and his eyes void of emotion, but as soon as the hat is placed on his head, he smiles, and Fred flinches; it's empty, like his eyes, and it honestly hurts to look at. That look scares him.  His brother  scares him.

It took only a minute this time, for the hat to declare "SLYTHERIN" once more. Fred wasn't at all surprised, and by the looks of it, neither was his twin nor his brother. Dumbledore's eyes were wide, Ginny was slightly shocked, and his parents were expressionless too. 

Ron took the hat off and handed it back to Dumbledore, who took it with shaking hands. "Now that that's done, could we go back to discussing the Howler?" He said, turning on his heel to look at his mother. 

"I would like to know what was going through your mind when you wrote it. I want to know why you said what you said, and I want to know if you meant it." He said, and Ron's voice sounded  soft .

Molly humored him.

"Yes, I meant every word. I didn't raise a snake, I raised someone who didn't care about blood status or money or wealth or power, I raised a kind boy who cared for his family and wanted to be like them, to follow in the footsteps of his ancestors. I don't know who you are, but you aren't my son." She said, and Ron nodded. 

"You didn't raise me at all." Is all he said, his voice still soft in a way that was unbearable to listen to, because it reminded Fred of when he was just a baby, when he'd seek out his siblings for attention because his parents were never there. It reminded Fred of days when they were truly brothers, instead of housemates who barely tolerated each other. 

"What do you mean, my boy?" Arthur asks, and his voice is just as soft, just as quiet; barely above a whisper.

"Neither of you raised me at all. I doubt you raised the twins. You didn't answer any of the questions George asked earlier, by the way. My first word was dad, and I said it to Charlie because he was the one who was the kindest to me and was there the most. You didn't raise me at all, because you were never there. And I do care about my family, it's just....not you. I don't know you, you don't know me. I care about my sister and my brothers and my friends. I don't care about blood status, I don't care about what type of wizard or witch someone is, I don't care if someone's a creature or not, you're the one who cares too much about those things. Not all purebloods are supremacists and bigots, not every dark witch or wizard is a dark lord or lady, not every creature is deadly and dangerous." He said, his tone never changing, his voice never wavering. 

"I wear green and silver and suddenly I'm a disappointment? I make a friend and stick with him and suddenly I bring shame to my family? I go to the house I belong in most, not because I'm evil but because I'm a strategist, because I'm cunning, and suddenly I'm no longer your son? Then you're no mother of mine. Don't contact me again, because as far as I'm convinced, you're a stranger to me, as I am to you." He said, eyes narrowed with anger but not rage. He was tired, Fred could see. Anger was good fuel, but it burned out quickly.

Ron turned and stalked out, Fred following after glaring at his mother, George on his heels. 

"What class do you have right now? I'll lead you there and then go to the Infirmary, Mom hits hard." Fred says, muttering the last few words but he could see his brothers heard him regardless.

Ron pulls his schedule out from his pocket and hands it to Fred, who reads it quickly. "Alright, looks like you have History of Magic first, it's really boring, and hardly anyone pays attention so good luck. Come on." He says as he begins leading his littlest brother to the third floor, making sure to walk slower than his usual pace because he has long legs while Ron doesn't.

They got to the classroom quickly, and before he opened the door, Ron took a good look at him and George.

"I heard what you said in the headmaster's office, about wanting to be there for me. I...don't know if I can be around you two right now, I'm still really angry, but...I think with time we can be brothers again. Can you two give me time and space until I'm ready?" He asks, and he's curling in on himself, avoiding eye contact, trying to make himself small, and Fred's heart  hurts .

"We'll give you all the time and space you need, come to us whenever you're ready, and we'll always be there for you, alright?" Fred said, smiling. He wanted to reach out and ruffle Ron's hair, but he didn't think that'd be welcome. Ron relaxed when he heard his words, looking up and smiling at both of them, looking like an actual child for the first time since his sorting. He nods at them and turns, going into the classroom, leaving the twins in the middle of a hallway.

Fred turns and begins heading over to the Infirmary, George falling into step right next to him. No words are exchanged, none are needed; all they need is rest now; their earlier anger leaving them tired too. Today wasn't as bad as it could have been, Fred supposed. Ron was practically disowned, yeah, but he was willing to let Fred and George get close to him again, he had friends, and he was confident enough to stand up to their mother, so Fred would take his small wins with a grin.

Chapter Text

Ron entered the History of Magic room quickly and quietly, looking around for his friends and calmly walking over to them, taking his place at Harry's right again. He ignored all the eyes on him because they wouldn't last; everyone was curious about him, but he wouldn't say anything, and as soon as everyone realized that, they'd go back to minding their own business.

His friends were looking at him with concern, but he waved them off, whispering that he'd tell them later, and both nodded, going back to taking notes.

Fred was right when he said the class was boring; all the teacher did was drone on about goblins and all the wars they've caused. Practically everyone was taking notes, but Ron would probably just ask an older student for notes to the class in exchange for a favor because he honestly couldn't see himself paying any attention. As he wrote, his blinks got longer and longer, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, and remaining awake seemed like a Herculean task, but he somehow managed until the end of class.

Everyone was quick to pack up and leave the room; the halls were crowded, full of students rushing to get to their next class, so Ron grabbed onto Harry and Elias, and the three were careful as they dodged the other kids, trying to be on time to Herbology. 

Ron was looking forward to Herbology, he was curious about what kind of plants the school had, and what they could be used for. He had to be knowledgeable, he had to be cunning and witty and quick; his mother had thrown him to the wolves in the morning, and he would have to fight his way out. He was a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, his two friends were too, that was a shield he could use for now but it would be worn down soon, he needed to prepare his defenses.

Professor Sprout seemed like a good teacher, a kind woman. She was eager to teach, and she scolded Malfoy when he was acting out, which was amusing to watch, so he thought highly of her already.

She began her lecture quickly, telling them that they'd be learning about Mandrakes; he knew it was an advanced lesson, one she shouldn't be teaching them yet. Especially not to the muggleborns, they were just thrust into a completely new world. Mandrakes could be dangerous, they could be lethal, but she handed out earmuffs, and she made sure every single person was wearing them before the lesson started.

He and his friends stuck together for the entirety of the lesson, and they ended up out right next to Neville Longbottom, who was nervous and skittish but eager to learn; absorbing information like a sponge with water.

Harry waved the boy over, who hesitantly joined their group, and he began asking questions instantly, trying to coax the boy out of his shell gently. Ron watched in amusement, but jealousy burned hot in his gut. He was careful not to let it show, he was friendly with the Lion, while Elias was neutral, indifferent. The pale boy was scaring Neville, and Ron bumped his shoulder against Elias, drawing his attention and shooting him a look, muttering under his breath to play nice. 

The older boy huffed and rolled his eyes, but loosened his shoulders and slouched a bit so he wasn't towering over Neville, and the boy relaxed the slightest bit as he and Harry continued their conversation, both bouncing ideas back and forth and their curiosity feeding off of each other. Harry looked happy, which made Ron feel remorseful for his feelings, but the jealousy didn't fade; he didn't want Harry talking to others, though he knew he had no right to stop the boy from socializing. 

Elias shared those feelings, he could tell. He wondered if the other boy would feel the same towards him if he also thought Ron belonged to him.

He selfishly hoped so.

Herbology passed quickly, all their classes did. Ron didn't pay attention in class or to his classmates, waving off his friends' questions about breakfast and what had happened after, only saying he'd tell them later; in the dorm. 

They all ignored the eyes that followed wherever they went, they pretended not to hear the hushed whispers, and they acted like everything was fine. During lunch, they went to the library instead of the Great Hall, looking at books on all magical laws and proper etiquette of purebloods; they needed to fit in, they stood out far too much.

Potions was the last class of the day, right before dinner. Ron's hatred for Snape was only amplified as the man relentlessly picked on Harry, asking him questions Ron knew even third years would struggle with. The man was a coward, using his power to belittle those he was supposed to guide and protect. Not even Percy had ever had a positive word to say about the Professor, and that spoke volumes. 

Harry had begun curling into himself, trying to appear smaller and take up less space until Ron had clutched his hand tightly and refused to let go; Snape hadn't liked it, but he was reluctant to take points from his own house.

All the different smells and sounds had given him a headache by the time it was over, so he was hesitant when approaching the Great Hall; he didn't know if he could handle it. 

"Could I talk to your brothers? Maybe they know where the kitchens are, so we can eat there instead of in the Hall," Harry asked, his voice soft. Ron nodded slowly; he knew his brothers wouldn't hurt his friend, especially after they defended him, but he was afraid that Harry would prefer the two over him like everyone else had. 

Elias stayed with him, humming under his breath quietly while Harry ran off, and Ron appreciated it. He felt too tired to speak, so he leaned onto Elias, resting his head on the other boy's shoulder; he was rewarded with a soft hand running through his hair gently. He liked Elias a lot, the other boy was respectful and quiet and calm, something he knew was rare among Purebloods. Most were loud about their power, wealth, and superiority. If there was anyone he'd share Harry with, he was glad it was Elias.

Harry came back quickly with a piece of paper; a map. The Marauder's Map specifically; Ron had never heard of it, but the three still followed it to the kitchen, which was hidden behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Harry reached up and tickled the pair, leading them into the room they were looking for, full of house elves.

The elves were eager to help them, and the three ate quickly before heading back to the library; it was quiet, and they could study more there. Upon arrival, Ron cast a Tempus and saw it was only 7:27, meaning they had about an hour before they should head back down to the dungeons in time for curfew, so they got to work looking for the proper books.

The trio found a table surrounded by tall bookshelves, hiding them from view. They all pulled out parchment, quills, and ink to take notes, and began reading; to cover more ground at once, Elias was reading up on creature laws, Ron on Pureblood etiquette, and Harry on regular laws.

The only sound they could hear was the scribbling of quill on parchment and the turning of pages, leaving them all in a comfortable silence. Ron felt himself relax as more time went on, his muscles releasing all the tension he didn't even know he had been carrying. He wished he could forever exist in that moment, surrounded by the people he considers his, surrounded by the people that he belonged to. There, in that corner of the library, he didn't have to worry about howlers, his brothers, his ex-mother, getting hexed the moment he turned his back; all he had to worry about was writing down how to properly greet another pureblood, and keeping track of the time.

It was the safest he'd felt since Charlie moved to Romania and Bill began traveling for his job; those two had always taken him seriously and had always made him feel like he was more than a shadow. They protected him from the twins, they played with him, and they always spent time with him, even if they were busy; they had raised him more than his so-called parents, or at least more than Molly. 

His father, he knew, was a very busy man. He tried to devote as much time to his children as he could, he always tried, but it wasn't enough; that was no one's fault, not really. He hadn't stood up for Ron that morning, but he hadn't sided with Molly either; he didn't know where he stood with his father now if he shared Molly's sentiment and thought him a future Dark Lord.

He had looked up to his father when he was young, but he had looked up at him as a man who was, vaguely, what he wanted to be like; kind and intelligent, never the way a son looks up to his dad. He had looked at Arthur and seen a familiar man, a man that he saw occasionally but didn't know that well; he had looked at Charlie and seen a father, a man who was resilient, attentive, and brave.

He had always adored Bill and Charlie, but Charlie was his favorite; he held the place in his heart that Arthur should have taken. He couldn't wait to introduce his new friends to his brother, Ron knew they'd like him. Elias would, at least; Harry would either be terrified of him or love him too; Ron was curious about which would win out.

Before he could waste any more time, he got back to reading and furiously scribbling down notes, making sure they were readable, and occasionally checking the time. Snape already didn't like him or Harry, and Ron didn't want to give the man another reason to hate them.

After what felt like hours, it was 8:25 and time for the trio to return to their dorm; they'd be sharing their notes there. They packed everything up and put the books right where they found them, then began heading back to the dungeons.

They got back just in time, only a few minutes before curfew, and they all rushed to get changed before they climbed into Ron's bed; the most protected. 

Elias muttered a quick silencing charm on the curtain to ensure they wouldn't be heard and began discussing. 

"The most important thing right now is etiquette and the rules, which we forgot about. We have to make sure to blend in, not knowing anything will make us stand out. Harry, you were raised by muggles, right?" Ron asks, and Harry nods hesitantly. 

"My...mother refused to teach us anything about purebloods, I didn't even know I was one till I was about 7, so I don't know anything either, but Elias, I'm guessing you do?" He said, and he received another nod. 

"You're going to have to be our guide here, we're going in blind, so when do you think we could start preparing?"

"Maybe during History of Magic? The professor just droned on and on, if we need the notes for a test we could ask an older student. During lunch or dinner too, we could just go to the kitchen to eat and then head to the library." Harry suggested, and Ron thought about it, debating the pros and cons before ultimately shaking his head.

"That's a smart idea but I don't think we'll be able to get away with not going to the Great Hall during meal times. Right now, too many people have eyes on me and Harry; we're the talk of the school. We have to be discreet." He said, and Elias' eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and it was clear he was deep in thought. 

"Okay so meal times no, we have study hall and history, we could try to recruit another pureblood too, I guess, but I'm not the... biggest  fan of that. You never know who you can trust, especially not in this world." He said, his voice trailing off towards the end. Harry's eyes were dull and empty when he nodded, as were Ron's.

"Maybe Neville? The boy from Herbology? He was a pureblood, and he was nice enough. He's shy, very jumpy, and a Gryffindor, but I think we could trust him. Even if we can't, I'm sure there's a spell we could find to make sure he keeps his mouth shut, or just intimate him. The latter sounds easier. Me befriending Neville comes with the bonus of me leaning into the expectations everyone already had for me, which might take off some pressure."  

Ron conceded he had a point. That ship had already sailed for him; he'd been sorted into Slytherin twice and had been publicly disowned, but if it worked for Harry, then he'd agree. 

"You have a point. How would we go about approaching him? I want to go as a group but he already knows Harry, so he may be more comfortable with only him." Ron said, and Harry's eyes were cold again when he shook his head. 

"I'm not going to be friends with him if he's not friends with you two; we're all in this together. We're a packaged deal, all or nothing." The black-haired boy said firmly, a determined glint in his eyes, and Ron felt something warm fluttering in his chest at the declaration. He liked being important to people, and he loved being someone's first choice; that had only happened once before.

"Okay, maybe you approach him first, and invite him to sit with us during breakfast? People have been given us a wide berth, so we have room for him, and it would be a good way to get to know him." Elias suggested, but Harry shook his head again.

"No, he's not going to be comfortable sitting at the Slytherin table. I...don't think he's treated the best, both at home and at school, I'd hate to put him in a position like that. If his housemates hate him, Neville sitting at our table would be an open declaration of preference, he prefers his house's enemies over them. But we can't sit with him either, because that would be us turning our backs on Slytherin, and we can't do that. Like Professor Snape said last night, we have to have a united front at all times; our loyalty lies with our house, we only have each other." Harry said, and the three sat in silence for a couple of minutes, contemplating.

"So we have to be very careful; no one can know we're friends. It would be better if Neville was in any other house, but we'll have to make it work. Or, we could befriend someone in Hufflepuff? That would be easiest since we're both in the dungeons and not that shocking. A Ravenclaw would be best; we'd face less mockery and teasing." Elias said, his head tilted as he simply stated what was on his mind. 

"So our options are Neville, someone we already know but we couldn't be publicly seen with, a Hufflepuff which would be easiest but there would likely be some backlash, or a Ravenclaw which would give no backlash, it would also have some advantages because Raves value knowledge," Ron said, looking at his companions. They were both giving it heavy thought; Ron personally thought a Ravenclaw would be a good idea because they were known for being sneaky, witty, and, most importantly, not nosy. 

"What if we did them all, collect them like achievements?" Harry joked, and Ron looked at him thoughtfully. They could wait awhile for the eyes to grow bored, and having at least one ally in each house would cover their bases; to those that weren't prejudiced, it would be an act of unity, which would be good for how people saw them. They could start planting seeds into their housemate's minds, telling them about how if they were seen in a better light, it would be easier to achieve their goals; it would allow them to have allies wherever they wanted, it might help their house too. 

He said this to his companions and received two nods. "So we'll try to befriend a Ravenclaw for now, and while we do that we keep our eyes out for potential allies." He said, and once more, got two nods. Ron crawled over to the edge of his bed, laying down on his stomach, and opening his curtains, reaching down under his bed for his messenger bag, where he keeps all his parchment, quills, and ink. He lifts the bag up and gently tosses it onto the bed, getting up and closing the curtains quickly; Someone had been watching his bed, someone had seen him, and that unnerved him, it made him uneasy.

He hurried back to the center of the bed, frantically scribbling down what they had just discussed, all the points they'd made, and all the pros and cons that came with them. The other two sat in a comfortable silence, Elias humming a short tune that had Harry's blinks becoming longer and longer as he began leaning to the side; to his left. Eventually, his head was resting on Elias' shoulder, and the humming got quieter, fading slowly until it stopped altogether.

Ron looked up and saw the two fast asleep, so he gently took Harry's glasses off, he put the parchment under his pillow, the bag under his bed, and the glasses on his bedside table before he lightly pushed the two until they were laying on their backs, then he maneuvered them until they were laying normally; the bed was easily big enough for the three of them to sleep comfortably and still have plenty of room to move around. 

Ron layed down on the right side of the bed, Harry in the middle, and Elias on the left. He noticed that was rapidly becoming their default stance; they always fell into that order. He laid his head on Harry's shoulder, carefully wrapping his arms around the smaller boy, and letting himself smile when Harry leaned back into him a bit, throwing his legs over Ron's, but keeping his arms wrapped around Elias.

It was the best any of them had slept in a long, long time.

Chapter Text

Charlie finally sat down after a long day, preparing to write Ron a letter. 

Today was the first day of school, so Ron would have already begun settling in, meeting his dorm mates and professors. Charlie had been waiting for Ron to write to him first, telling him which house he'd been sorted into, but none had arrived. He'd known that Ron likely wouldn't be a Gryffindor, he reminded Charlie too much of himself and he'd almost been a Ravenclaw. 

He'd gotten a letter from Fred the night of the sorting, which had been a surprise, saying that something unexpected happened and to stay away from the family for a little to let things cool down because he'd likely be blamed for it, so Charlie knew that whatever had gone wrong had something to do with Ron. Molly was a jealous woman, she yelled at Charlie whenever Ron did anything she didn't approve of because she believed he had 'ruined' his youngest brother.

The letter he'd gotten only an hour earlier, once again from Fred, had only further cemented it. It was short, to the point, which had sent warning bells off in Charlie's head, so he'd been quick to read it. 

Molly had sent Ron a howler because he wasn't a Gryffindor, had Ron resorted but his house hadn't changed, disowned Ron, hit Fred, and now the twins were unsure if they were still Weasleys or not. 

Charlie had been seething when he was done, so much so that the letter had caught on fire, and he'd had to frantically put it out; the bottom of the letter was gone, but the contents were fine. So, after seething and pacing for an hour, he was finally sitting down to reach out to his kid brother.

He didn't know where to start, he didn't know if Ron knew that Fred had reached out to him but just in case he didn't, he didn't want to mention anything that might imply or allude that he knew his brother's house; he doesn't, but he's curious. 

It took him what felt like hours to write that letter, congratulating his brother and asking him about his classes and if he'd made any friends so far. He filled his brother in on what he's been doing lately; the dragon reserve he worked at had just gotten about eight more dragons, and one of their Hungarian Horntails had just laid a clutch of eggs. He included a picture he had taken of the mighty dragon, lovingly named Bela, sleeping, her tail wrapped around her eggs to ensure they wouldn't be taken from her. 

Once he was sure he had covered everything, his letter ended up being two pages long. He sighed off with  Love, Charlie  as he always did, and put the letter in an envelope. He called his owl, Azariah, over and attached some Floo Powder onto her leg, in a small container that would tip over as soon as he let go. Azariah was carried into the fireplace, and he shouted Hogwarts as he let go of the container.

Azariah disappeared in a flash of bright, lime-green fire, and Charlie was alone in his apartment. He didn't know when he'd be getting a reply, though he hoped soon; he missed Ron so much, he'd practically raised the kid and as a result, he'd gotten used to seeing him every day; he didn't know what to do now, when he couldn't, when they were so far apart. Letters took time, to both write and be received. 

He pondered for a while before he remembered that two-way mirrors were a thing; not very common but not unheard of. It would be a method of communication that was quick, easy, and private; it was perfect. He didn't know where to get them, due to the dangerous nature of his job, the reserve was far away from any towns, villages, or cities, but he'd been working for two and a half years now; he'd hardly ever taken sick days and he had roughly a month and a half of paid vacation days, he could easily just take one day off to search for someplace that had two-way mirrors. 

He nodded, that's what he'd do. He made himself a cup of lemon-honey tea and settled down with maps of the area around the reserve to see where the nearest town was, and began figuring out his plan for the following day.

Ron, for as long as he could remember, hadn't slept comfortably. 

His clothes had never fit him properly, his bed sheets and blankets were old, worn, and full of holes, and then he had to keep his guard up even in his room, where he was supposed to be safe because there was nothing the twins were above; they'd target him when he was weakest. Even on top of all of that, there was a wariness he had, bone-deep, that he never knew where it came from. He felt eyes on him wherever he went, but worst of all in his room and the kitchen; he never knew why.

The feeling made him jittery and jumpy until he'd grown used to it. He never stopped being suspicious, never stopped discreetly taking in his surroundings, he just stopped making it obvious. 

At Hogwarts, the feeling was no longer irrational; there  were  eyes on him, every moment of the day. Except now.

He was in his bed, hearing his other two roommates get up and begin getting ready; and he felt well-rested for the first time in a long time. He felt warm, cozy, and like it was safe to lay there for a moment longer without fear of someone barging in to wake him. The beds at Hogwarts were the softest thing he'd ever laid on, and the two bodies that surrounded him, because he'd somehow ended up in the middle, were wrapped around him so completely it was like the three had been tangled into one being.

He loved it, but he also knew they had to start getting ready, so with a huff he started carefully sitting up. Harry was sleeping deeply, as was Elias, so he assumed the two had slept as well as he had, and their bodies were hesitant to let go of the rest they'd craved for so long, yet they had to get ready because it was only the second day of school. He somehow managed to crawl to the foot of the bed, and the two began feeling around the area he had just vacated, looking for him while they were still asleep.

Ron felt that fluttery feeling in his chest again, like there were butterflies flying around his lungs; it was an odd feeling, but not unpleasant. 

He sighed again before crawling back towards Harry, tapping the boy's ankle repeatedly, trying to wake him to no avail. He had to tap harder and more incessantly before the Potter's eyes finally fluttered open, green eyes glaring at him for a moment before sliding shut again, only to open once more with a huff. 

Ron laughed soundlessly and got off the bed, retrieving Harry's glasses and handing them to the boy who was trying to wake Elias. Harry took his glasses with a grateful nod and Ron walked towards his trunk, pulling out his uniform. By then, the other two boys were crawling off the bed and heading towards their own trunks; Ron wondered what Nott and Zabini would have had to say, had they still been in the room to see Elias and Harry leave his bed. 

Ron got dressed quickly, trying to tame his hair as much as possible as he walked into the bathroom, just as Nott and Zabini walked out. He started brushing his teeth, and by the time he finished, he was joined by his friends. He brushed his hair the best he could, then helped Harry, who was struggling. Elias cackled at them before ultimately joining, and with their combined efforts they made Harry look presentable. 

Harry and Elias chatted quietly while they walked, Ron staying silent to the side. His ex-parents knew what house he was in, as did Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny, but had anyone told Bill or Charlie? He didn't think they had, meaning he would have to be the one to tell them. Maybe he could also ask Charlie if he could stay with him during breaks, or at least the summer since he technically no longer had a home. 

He hoped his brother would say yes, though he knew there was a chance he wouldn't; Charlie was very proud of his work, but it was dangerous. He didn't know if he'd let Ron live with him for fear Ron would get hurt. 

As he was pondering, he felt eyes on him again, and looked to his side, where both his friends were looking at him worriedly; there was that fluttery feeling again when his silence had been noticed and had been cause for concern. 

"What're you thinking about?" Harry asked curiously, though there was some encouragement in his tone; he wanted Ron to be honest with him and wanted to let his friend know he could be trusted. "Just that probably no one told my two oldest brothers I'm a Slytherin, and if they don't know that then they probably don't know I was disowned." He said truthfully. 

Elias and Harry stopped in their tracks, completely frozen. Ron had taken another step without realizing they'd stopped, and he turned back in confusion before he thought back to what he said and remembered he'd never told them what he'd discussed with his family the morning prior.

Elias stepped forward and leaned in close to whisper something in Ron's ear, and Ron chuckled a bit when he heard what it was. " What?! " Elias hissed as Harry stepped forward too, and Ron shrugged. "I thought Molly was exaggerating in her howler but, no, she was serious. Something about her not raising a snake or something." He muttered, shrugging. 

Truth be told, he didn't care all that much. It would be troublesome to find a place to stay, but the majority of his family and he had been cordial at best; he would only say he truly loved Bill and Charlie. He didn't hate Percy, Ginny, or Arthur, he just didn't know them, and he held some resentment for the twins. He outright hated Molly. 

Elias didn't share those sentiments, he looked upset; the most emotional Ron had seen the boy to date. Harry looked worried, but he accepted that; Ron had suspected since the train ride that Harry didn't have a good family, and this was only further cementing that thought. 

"I've heard a lot about Weasleys, like that you're all Gryffindors. Aren't they supposed to be loyal?" He asked, his voice soft, quiet. Ron shook his head with a weak laugh. "Nah, those are Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors are the brave ones." He said, and Elias just looked at him, sad, but Ron was happy to see no pity in his grey eyes, just genuine sadness and concern.

"Where will you stay though?" Harry asked, grabbing Ron's hand and tugging to get the red-haired boy to start walking again; Ron went without struggle, grabbing onto Elias to drag him along too. 

"That's what I was thinking about, I'm gonna write to Bill and Charlie; I want to ask Charlie if I can stay with him, if he says no then I have no clue. Bill travels a lot for work, so he's not an option." He says, and Elias looks at him, contemplative for a moment. "I could ask my parents if you could stay with us. They don't care about family names, just blood status." He offered, and yet again, that fluttery feeling. Ron liked being cared about, he liked being seen as important, and he liked being wanted.

"Thank you, I'll let you know what Charlie says." He replies brightly, grinning at Elias and pouring all his gratitude into his gaze. His attention gets drawn to Harry, who's tugging a bit on his sleeve. "My parents were purebloods right?" He asks, and Ron nods, confused. "Yeah, your dad was Lord Potter, your mom was Lady Potter; you're the heir." He says, not understanding what's going through his brilliant friend's mind. 

"When I was reading through the wizarding laws last night, I came across the process for emancipation; it's fairly simple, and my family isn't...good. If I get emancipated, I can just legally adopt you; we'd be brothers, you'd have a family name, and we could live at one of my properties." He suggested, and Ron had to admit that it was a good idea. 

"Was there anything about the age you had to be to get emancipated?" He asked, and Harry shook his head. "No, in the muggle world you do have to be a certain age, but here it's based on maturity; both mental and magical. You do have to take some tests, and typically, for cases in which the minor is especially young, you're asked to go before the Wizengamot to display evidence as to why you're asking for emancipation, which I read can be presented in the form of memories; that should be enough. If not, I can figure out how to pull some strings; my name carries a lot of weight, on top of that though, I can play up the poor, devastated orphan who's never been shown love." Harry said with a shrug and a lazy smirk, but his eyes were alight with amusement and determination.

Ron could clearly see now, why the hat had hesitated barely a second before sorting him into Slytherin. Harry was a snake in sheep's clothing, looking small and meek and unassuming, but his mind was sharper than a razor. Ron loved that about him, how he looked so innocent while being anything but.

He liked this version of Harry more than the boy he'd met on the train, who shied away when Ron got too loud and flinched when he moved his hands too animatedly. This version was still shy, but not nearly as much; this one reached out and grabbed his friends to drag them along, or just walked off, confident that they'd always follow him. They would, Ron knew. He and Elias would follow Harry anywhere, to the ends of the earth until the end of their lives. This Harry was openly scheming, this Harry was trying to save himself with his own bare hands because no adult had stood by him before. 

It had only been three days, and Ron was so excited to see what Harry would be like at the end of the year. He was so proud of how his friend's confidence was skyrocketing, he'd do anything to ensure things stayed on the path they were currently on. 

There was still so much more they needed to discuss, so much more they needed to plan. All they had were goals at the moment, but Ron knew they wouldn't stay that way for long, he knew they would come to fruition because, with Harry and Elias that determined, there was nothing that would stand in their way. 

The trio kept chatting as they walked, excited for the day ahead of them because they had so much to do. They walked into the Great Hall and sat at the end of the table as usual, not caring about the eyes that continued to follow them or the wide berth they were provided by their peers; Ron was in too good of a mood to let any of that bother him. He raised his head and met Fred's eyes from across the Hall, and he even shot his brother a grin before looking back at Harry, who was asking Elias question after question about Quidditch, soaking up the information he was being given like a sponge. 

He ate calmly, staying mostly silent as his two friends spoke, only offering his input when it was requested. He still had to figure out how to tell his brothers all that had happened, and he didn't know how to begin. Where would he begin? When he was on the train? The Sorting? Should he tell them who his friends are? He didn't think Bill or Charlie would mind who he'd befriended, but if Charlie agreed to let Ron stay with him, maybe it would be another story. 

Just as he was reaching for his bag to pull out some parchment and a quill to begin writing a letter, the owls arrived. He continued with his task, because he had no mail for him, or so he thought. As soon as he'd put his stuff onto the table, an owl landed in front of him, mottled brown and white overall, with dark brown, almost black, eyes. She had a letter, which she dropped right in front of Ron before looking at him expectantly, tilting her head.

He smiled and shook his head. "Elias, you got any owl treats?" He asked, and his friend nodded before quickly fishing through his bag, tossing the container over to Ron, who caught it. He gave some of the treats to the owl, who made a twittering sound, indicating her joy. 

"Whoa, who is that?" Harry asked, looking at the mysterious owl with wide, awe-filled eyes. "Her name is Azariah, isn't she gorgeous? She's Charlie's owl, he sent me a letter." Ron said, reaching for the letter as he grinned, giddy and excited. Azariah preened with the compliment, twittering again. She stepped forward to peer closely at Harry, who continued to stare at her in awe. 

"Hey Harry, did you get an owl?" Elias asked, and Harry nodded. "A snowy owl, her name is Hedwig, she's in the owlery right now." He responds proudly, cooing at Azariah as he takes another treat from Elias' jar to feed her. 

Ron carefully opens his letter and is shocked but overjoyed to pull out two pages and a small picture. He looks at the picture first, a Hungarian Horntail sleeping, her long tail wrapped carefully and protectively around her eggs. He smiled, content and oddly proud of the dragon for protecting her young before reaching for the first page.

Charlie began talking about what had been going on in the dragon reserve he worked at; he was never shy about sharing details of his life with Ron, no matter how much Molly and Arthur had disapproved. Charlie treated Ron like someone capable of understanding what was happening around him, his ex-parents treated him like a mindless toddler.

One of Charlie's coworkers, whom he'd gone to Hogwarts with, had been having an affair. The reserve kept dragons separated based on types, because of how territorial they could be, and some were so much larger than others that they'd tear each other apart. The reserve was huge, it had several large sectors dedicated to a specific type of dragon, and the sections were miles apart from each other. Which sector you were assigned to depended on your knowledge and work experience; obviously, someone who had just graduated and only had theoretical knowledge of dragons couldn't go straight to working with Romanian Longhorns. Charlie had been working for a while, and he had a lot of experience and expertise, so he bounced from sector to sector as he pleased; he would be staying with the Horntails for a while though, to help Bela with her new eggs. 

The cheater was named Victoria, she worked with Charlie with the Hungarian Horntails, her fiancé Carlos worked with Chinese Fireballs, and apparently, she'd been caught sneaking out by another coworker, Andras. He had followed her and caught her meeting up with Ivan, who worked with Ukrainian Ironbellies. The news had spread rapidly throughout the whole reserve, and everyone in every sector knew about it. Ron's eyebrows rose higher and higher the more he read until they'd all but disappeared into his hairline. 

Charlie knew Carlos well, they'd met on their first train ride to Hogwarts, they'd been dormmates, and because Charlie bounced around from sector to sector, he worked with Carlos a lot. He said the poor man was torn up about the whole thing; turns out he'd even bought a ring for Victoria, they'd been Hogwarts Sweethearts, and he'd wanted to marry her in a couple more years. Victoria and Ivan got together officially after Carlos had ended things, and the new couple had quit in unison, moving to the nearest town, hours away, to live together. 

Ron couldn't even imagine what Carlos was feeling. 

Because of the dangerous nature of Charlie's work, and the possibility of a dragon escaping at any time, all the workers had apartments on-site, far from the sectors; the apartments were scattered around the very edge of the property of the reserve. Carlos had shared his with Victoria, and as a result, had gotten used to sleeping with another person, and just overall having a roommate. With her gone, he'd been crashing with Charlie, who found he really liked the company. Since Charlie had previously lived alone, he had a one-bedroom apartment, so the two had been sharing a bed; something they'd done back during their Hogwarts days too. 

Charlie said that since he'd begun crashing with Charlie, a month ago, he seemed to be improving a lot emotionally, which Ron was glad to hear. Carlos had been through a really shitty ordeal, he was glad the man seemed to be getting better. That did throw a wrench into his plan of staying with Charlie, but Elias had also opened his home to him, so he could simply talk to his friend about it; plus, he had several months before he truly had to begin worrying about where he'd stay, that was plenty of time to come up with arrangements and a plan.

He was glad his brother wasn't so lonely anymore, too. 

He continued reading, which was just Charlie rambling about his work. The reserve sounded fun and interesting; Ron would love the chance to see it one day. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to be once he graduated, but working at a dragon reserve sounded interesting; it was hard, dangerous, and heavy work, but it paid well, it would keep him on his toes, it provided housing, and it had great benefits. He'd be studying up on dragons and other dangerous creatures, and while he wasn't sure if he'd go into that field when he could, it was nice to have the option.

Charlie ended the letter saying he knew what had happened, that Ron had been disowned, but that he didn't know specifics. He continued saying that Ron would always be welcome with him, would always be his little brother no matter what, and to be sure to keep in contact more. He ended with Love, Charlie, and that brought a bright grin to Ron's face. He once again felt eyes on him so he looked up to see both his friends looking at him with soft expressions on their faces, and it made his belly feel warm. 

Ron blushed to the tips of his ears, pulling out his want to cast a quick  Tempus.  8:47, he didn't have time to write a letter right then, but he did have History of Magic again that morning, which would give him plenty of time. 

He put his stuff away again, folding the letter back up carefully and making sure it was safely tucked into his messenger bag before getting up, nodding to his friends to follow. On the way, he chatted with them about what Charlie had told him, telling them in detail about the scandal at the reserve. Elias, the whole time, had been metaphorically clutching his pearls, while Harry's eyes were wide, and he kept asking questions like a nosy, gossiping housewife. His friend's varying reactions amused him.

They arrived to class a few minutes early, and they sat in the corner, where it would be easier to hide from prying eyes and curious ears. The trio had been casting silencing charms on themselves whenever it was just the three of them talking, to ensure they wouldn't be overheard. Ron pulled out his stuff again and began furiously scribbling down everything that had happened since the beginning of the term, starting with raving about the friend he'd made on the train to the sorting, to his first morning in the dorm, meeting a kind boy who helped him out.

He spoke in detail about the howler, writing down word for word what it had bellowed to him, in front of the whole Great Hall, and he joyously included all the venom Molly had spewed during the argument, which was fresh in his mind. He rambled a bit about classes, though since it was the very beginning nothing interesting had happened yet. 

He ended the letter with a promise to write another soon, and he giddily scribbled  Love, Ron , before folding it up. Azariah had followed him to History, resting on his shoulder and preening his hair. He gently tied the letter to her leg, and off she went to find someone to Floo her back to Romania. 

He'd spent half of class writing, and his friends drew him into a mindless conversation, discussing ice cream flavors. Ron didn't think much of the looks the other two had pointed at him at breakfast, but he found himself looking at them softly like that too, as they debated which ice cream flavor was the best. Soon, they'd drag him into the debate to ask for his opinion, but until then, he was content to listen to their quiet voices, leaning onto Harry's bony shoulder and resting his eyes for a bit as they spoke above him.

Only a couple minutes later was he drawn into the debate, Harry was Team Mint-Chocolate Chip Lover while Elias was Team Mint-Chocolate Chip hater, and after only a bit of prodding Elias admitted with a blush he was only repeating what others had told him; he'd never tried any before.

"You mentioned you got an older brother, right? A sixth year? Ask him to bring some in for you when the Hogsmeade trips start. If you like it, then you like it, and if you don't, you get to come up with your own arguments on why it's bad, instead of just repeating back what you've heard, simple." Ron said with a shrug before returning to his previous position, leaning on Harry's shoulders with closed eyes.

Elias smiled at Ron, though the red-headed boy's eyes were closed so he didn't see.

When he'd first seen the boy at the sorting, he'd assumed he'd be a Gryffindor like the rest of his family, and he'd been shocked to see him wear green and silver. Elias had also been shocked to see him so comfortable wearing green and silver; he'd been eager to speak to the boy, his confidence was unexpected but surprisingly motivating, in a way he couldn't explain.

He'd known he'd be a Slytherin his whole life, everyone he knew was also guaranteed to be Slytherins too. Travers were Slytherins, that was set in stone; he knew he didn't have a choice. And while he didn't dread it, per se, he wasn't excited about it either. 

And yet this boy who'd gone against his family line wore a lazy smirk as he waltzed to the Slytherin table, head held high and shoulders squared; he treated being a Slytherin like something to be proud of, not a death sentence as anyone else would. It was refreshing, and the boy was cute too.

Then Elias found out he'd be sharing a dorm with him, and he was straight-up  giddy . He so badly wanted to befriend the redhead, and he made it his goal to do so; he'd bide his time if he had to, but before the year ended, Ron Weasley would be his friend.

It was actually a lot easier than he'd expected to befriend Ron; all he did was help the boy try to tame Harry Potter's wild hair, something he was good at because he had the same hair type. The boys walked with him to the Great Hall, including him in their conversation easily, and he liked it. Then the topic of different kinds of magic came up, and he was nervous, but Ron had admitted that he didn't think he was light, like the rest of his family, and Elias felt his heart soar. 

He and his new friends had a lot in common, and they treated him like he was any other person; as a pureblood, he'd been put on a pedestal his whole life, and it was so great to just be a regular person, without having to act a certain way to ensure he didn't bring shame to his family name or some other nonsense like that. 

Harry Potter was nothing like he was expecting, too. The boy was eager but surprisingly shy, however, he truly was a snake, through and through, because as soon as he sunk his teeth into something it was impossible to shake him out of it, Elias had learned, as at 11 the boy was trying to get himself emancipated to adopt Ron after finding out the redhead had been disowned the day before. 

Honestly, it was the third day of the school year and so much had already happened, Elias swore he'd get whiplash. He couldn't wait to meet up with his brother and tell him all about what had been happening; he'd had a short conversation with the older boy the first night, before he went to his dorms, to tell him about his plans to befriend Ron Weasley. His plan was going perfectly since the night before had been spent in his bed. Truthfully, cuddled up against the other two boys, Elias had slept more comfortably than he ever did at home; he hoped he'd have another chance to do it again soon.

Ron was genuinely fun to be around; he was funny, absolutely brilliant, and so achingly  gentle  too. It made Elias swoon just thinking about it, honestly. 

He loved hanging around the other two boys, who seemed eager to keep him around. He'd begun talking a bit more to Harry the night before, since Ron seemed lost in thought, and the Potter had also been nothing like Elias had expected him to be like, but not in a bad way; the other boy was smart too, deceivingly so; he was shy, but that made it all the easier for him to fly under the radar, he had great ideas and the determination to match. Elias was genuinely excited to see what the two boys would come up with next.

At breakfast, Ron had received a letter and Elias had let his mask down while the freckled boy read it, looking at him with a dopey smile on his face. Ron looked so happy to hear from his older brother, and his smile was enchanting; Elias could stare at him for hours, he swore. He would happily drown in those ocean eyes, he'd bleed under the sharp fangs hidden in the other boy's smile. 

And maybe, he was getting ahead of himself. Well actually, he definitely was. He didn't know how Ron felt about him, didn't know if Ron even liked boys, or if Elias was his type, but he hoped to the stars above that he was.

He loved how open Ron was with affection too; it was something he hadn't received much of growing up, but Ron easily just reached over and grabbed his hand, or his sleeve, and just tugged a bit before dragging him along. Every time, Elias just went happily. He'd follow Ron and Harry to the ends of the earth at this point.

Maybe he could ask his brother to get some ice cream for the three of them once the Hogsmeade trips started? Yes, that would be a pleasant surprise for them. He smiled again before continuing his conversation with Harry, who just shot him a knowing smirk and a pointed look.

Chapter Text

Elias had known his whole life his family was slightly... different from others. His parents and brother put on perfect masks whenever they left, but they acted odd whenever they visited the muggle world, although those visits were few and far between. 

Once, when he was seven, his parents had left him and Sebastian at a playground, which had made him giddy. His brother didn't want to play with him, because Sebastian was twelve and twelve-year-olds were too old for such childish behavior, so he settled on a bench to watch. A bigger boy, three years older than him, had come up to Elias when he was on the swing and had pushed him roughly; he'd fallen back and hit his head on the concrete, but he couldn't fight back because the boy was a muggle and he was not. He couldn't reveal his magic, no matter what.

Elias had sat up and touched a tentative hand to the back of his head, wincing when he looked at it and saw the blood on his fingertips. His eyes stung with tears, but he fought them back; crying was unbecoming of a pureblood, and if his cousins ever saw him cry they would never let him live it down. He looked up at the boy, who was laughing, and his eyes had gone as wide as saucers when he noticed Sebastian was standing right behind the mean boy. 

He hadn't even seen his brother move.

Sebastian had, honest to Salazar, hissed at the bully, which in turn made the boy call his brother a freak. Sebastian, without missing a beat, tackled the boy, chomped down on his arm, and bit as hard as he could. A couple of seconds later, he released him and picked Elias up, cooing at him and hushing him gently when he noticed the tears. Elias flinched when the bully shrieked, but Sebastian didn't react at all for a moment before he turned back and hissed at the boy again, who began sobbing loudly and screaming for his mom to punish the freak that bit him.

Sebastian had taken him to an ice cream parlor across the street from the park and got the two ice cream, all while softly reassuring him that nothing like that would ever happen again. Elias felt that he should fear his brother, after that. Sebastian tackled a bit a boy two years younger than him for no reason other than the unnamed muggle boy pushed Elias; Sebastian hadn't attempted to speak to the boy, to deescalate the situation, he'd jumped straight to aggression and violence. But, try as hard as he might, Elias would never be able to bring himself to fear his brother.

Sebastian, who picked him up effortlessly and cooed at him and bought him ice cream after, Sebastian who told their parents everything that had happened as soon as they'd come to collect their sons.

He'd never seen his brother act like that before, but his parents had hissed too, low and reptile-like. Under the light of the moon, it looked like their eyes had been glowing too, and he could feel the anger rolling off them in waves before they both, in unison, shoved it down and locked it away. His family had barely let him leave their sights that day; he and Sebastian had been allowed to sleep in their parent's room, and they'd even gotten to make a nest. 

He thought that type of behavior was normal. Everyone in his family was quick to anger, quick to resort to violence. They all hissed too, whenever emotions were running high, they'd hiss. Whether it would be directed to someone as a threat or just a breath to release some tension, they hissed. To him, it was a fact of life.

But then they sat him down and told him that no, it wasn't normal. That he shouldn't mention it to anyone, because they'd treat him differently, weirdly. He nodded, told them he'd understood, and that was that. He didn't know why his family did what they did, but it was becoming clearer to him. 

When Neville approached Harry and the two began talking excitedly, he was angry. He was tense and frustrated for reasons he didn't know, all he knew was that he wanted to tackle Neville and bite him; he wanted to scare him off, for reasons unknown. He was seriously contemplating it too, just lunging and biting, when Ron shoulder-checked him, snapping him back into awareness, and he was reminded then of the talk he'd had with his parents. That type of behavior wasn't normal, those thoughts weren't normal, and anything other than normal, to the people of their world, was a threat.

Ron was good at keeping him in check, Elias realized that day. During potions, he'd almost bit Professor Snape too; he didn't like how the man bullied Harry, didn't like his attitude or voice or arrogance. He walked in and acted like he was the smartest in the room, and to be fair, he likely was, but Elias didn't think that was a good attitude for a teacher to have. Belittling one's students wasn't a good way to get them to learn, but it was a surefire way to make them fear you, and lose all trust in you.

Just from seeing how the man behaved with Harry, Elias wondered how he'd act with anyone else. The muggleborns, the children who struggled with their magic, the children who came from bad homes, how would he treat them? Elias didn't know, nor did he want to. If he or his ever struggled, they'd go to another. Like Flitwick, he seemed like a happy, kind man. Elias liked Professor Flitwick. The man was also a dueling champion, and that made him one of the coolest men he'd ever met.

He wondered what his brother had to say about Professor Snape, not that he'd ever ask him. Sebastian was very protective, if not downright possessive; Elias couldn't judge, he was noticing he was the same, but he was scared of what his brother would do to the teacher if he learned how he treated the first years.

He was getting a feel for his new environment, and he found that he liked Hogwarts itself but disliked a lot of his peers, and some of his teachers. Professor McGonagall was fair and unbiased, he liked her, and he admired Professor Flitwick. He felt neutral about Professor Sprout, but he hated Quirrel and Snape. He didn't know what it was about the DADA teacher, but he made Elias' skin crawl. 

He let all of that bleed out of him in the library though; a hiss under his breath and releasing all the tension in his shoulders did wonders for him, oddly enough. 

He sat down in a plush, overstuffed armchair, picking up   Creature Laws: A Guide  and looking at his friends, who were both entranced by their respective subjects. He decided to test the waters a bit, throwing his legs over one of the arms of the chair, and laying his head on the other. His back rested comfortably on the seat, and he could absentmindedly swing his legs as he read; it was a comfortable position, his favorite for reading, but only in private. His cousins would sneer at him, and call him all sorts of names like childish, uncivilized, a shame to his family.

Neither of his friends batted an eye; Harry had looked at him for a moment and Elias had gotten nervous, ready to sit up like a normal person, before Harry had copied his position, shifting a bit to get comfortable before resuming his reading as if nothing had happened; Ron hadn't looked up once, so Elias doubted he'd seen either of them.

It was a weight off his shoulders, to know he could act a little looser around his friends, and it was a pressure off his plate to know he could let his self-control slip a little; Harry had heard him absentmindedly hiss while reading and the boy had simply hissed back softly, not batting an eye. Ron had noticed that, all he'd done was snort quietly and Elias thought that was that, until Ron hissed at him too, for a second, before returning to his studying. 

He liked it a lot, that his friends picked up his habits like that. He liked how being around them made him feel, giddy and overjoyed in the best ways.

It was great that his friends made him so happy because he needed that joy just to be able to read through the book on creature law without killing someone.

Werewolves, Vampires, Veela, and Shapeshifters of any kind had to be registered in the Ministry and constantly monitored; if an unregistered creature was caught, they'd be sentenced to either life in Azkaban or death; with no in-between. On top of that, they couldn't live alone, they had to live with a regular wizard who would be strong enough to subdue them should anything happen. Any wizarding shop was allowed to deny someone service if they were a creature, no matter what creature. Hell, creatures were barely allowed to do anything; it was awful. 

He made sure to write every single thing he read that could be important; he didn't know why creature laws were something they needed to look into, but they  were  planning on doing creature tests, and who knew what those could reveal; it was good to know your rights regardless, something told him his friends would be getting in a lot of trouble, and who would he be if he let them get into trouble alone? Someone had to be sensible, and while Ron was amazingly smart and Harry was deceptive and witty, both lacked common sense.

He'd known these boys for less than a day and he knew he'd follow them anywhere; there was no way that was normal. He was a lonely kid, he  knew  that; the only friend he'd ever had before was his brother. But he was getting irrationally attached to these two, and yet when he looked up to see Harry still lying sideways on the armchair and Ron's furrowed brows as he rapidly scribbled notes, he wouldn't mind.

He didn't care how unhealthy it was, these boys were his and his alone;   no one  would take them from him.

Someone obviously would try. It's something they'd discussed the first night they spent together; they needed to travel in groups unless they were someplace safe. Ron was a blood traitor, and Elias was now too, by extension, while Harry was a celebrity, and jealousy was one hell of a motivator. 

Everything seemed to go well for their first week, besides the shit show of that very first morning. Harry was the only one who could venture the halls alone because he was small and famous. Ron and Elias ran the risk of getting attacked, Harry didn't; not by the Slytherins at least. Even though both Ron and Elias hated Harry going out alone, he'd been given the Marauder's Map, which was a huge help. 

On Monday, September 8th, they had potions again. The smells tended to give Ron a headache, so when dinner came, Harry went to the kitchen to get them food while the pair waited for him in an old, abandoned classroom.

While normally they'd go with him, or at least wait outside for him, a group of fifth year Gryffindors had been following them since breakfast, mocking them and taunting them. They were loud, which added to Ron's headache; so they were hiding. And while the three boys, Luis Marquez, Jason Jones, and Josue Aguirre had yet to resort to physical violence, it was really only a matter of time before things escalated. 

To  prevent  that escalation, they were hiding. While not the bravest thing, it was the best course of action for them; Ron couldn't use magic to defend himself, he didn't have his own wand so any spell he cast would come out wrong, and being overwhelmed would only add fuel to the flame. Elias was confident he could protect his friend, but only with magic. He was a tall, lanky, scrawny boy, there was absolutely no way he'd be able to beat three fifth years.

He'd memorized the sounds of their footsteps though, loud and heavy and echoing against the stone hallways. 

Ron was lying on the teacher's desk, staring up at the ceiling and kicking his legs where they hung off the edge of the desk. Elias was sitting on a desk off to the side, his spot allowed him to watch both Ron and the door; it felt right to sit there, allowing him to play watchdog. 

Because of his vantage point, he heard those same loud footsteps stomping down the halls, throwing open any doors they saw, hunting Elias and Ron down like they were the prey and the trio were the predators. 

The night before, he'd been given a two-way mirror by his brother, who told him to tap it twice or say his name to connect them; saying his name would connect them in a call, tapping it twice would make it vibrate as a type of SOS. He carried it in his back pocket, so he was quick to tap it twice before slipping it back in and grabbing Ron, who'd sat up. His friend didn't protest as Elias grabbed his arm and dragged him off into the closet on the side; it bought them a little time and they wouldn't have to watch their backs.

The closet was small, and the two barely fit, but he made sure Ron went in first; he covered his friend as much as he could, shielding him with his own body. He could feel the mirror vibrate in his back pocket, he slipped it out again, and Ron watched curiously but didn't say a word. He seemed dazed, and his eyes were unfocused. 

"Sebastian." He said in a hushed whisper, and a second later his brother's face appeared in the mirror. At the same time, another door was kicked open; the boys were getting closer, and they didn't have much time. 

"Seb, these boys have been bothering me and my friends all day, they're looking for us right now, they're gonna hurt us bad. I can't fight them off, they're fifth years and they were on the Quidditch team for three years, so they're strong. We're in an abandoned hall on the second floor, help us please." He whispered frantically before his brother could even say a word. If there was one person he trusted to help him, it was Sebastian. His brother would keep him safe like he always had.

Sebastian only nodded firmly, and he could see the mirror shake as his brother stood and ran off; the mirror went dark, and he put it back in his pocket. The trio continued to get even closer. They had maybe another minute or two before the classroom they were in was searched, so Elias pulled his wand out. He knew some dark spells which he'd rather not use but if push came to shove, he'd send the three straight to the hospital wing.

He cast a quick Protego, shielding them, just as the classroom door was kicked open and the boys marched in, searching everywhere they could.

Eventually, one laid eyes on the closet, and the door flew open; his shield didn't waver, nor did he flinch. Ron did, the sudden noise startling him since he wasn't completely in his right mind; his headache left him out of it. Elias was starting to think it wasn't an ordinary headache. When he thought back to the day, the only unusual thing was someone walking by them and tripping, falling onto the table. It's not out of the realm of possibly the fall was a distraction, and they used it to slip something into Ron's drink; it was actually pretty probable.

The boy who found them had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes, with tan skin. He had a sharp, shark-like smirk that made Elias' skin crawl, and he recognized the boy immediately. He was looking up at Jason Jones, one of Luis' lackeys. 

He stared up at the older boy, defiant and unafraid. Jason didn't like that. 

He swung at him and tried to punch Elias but the hit never landed, hitting the shield instead. Jason called for his companions, and now Elias was afraid. 

He didn't know how long he could keep his shield up, he didn't know how long it would take for Sebastian to find them. His parents had trained him, so his prowess and stamina were higher than other first years, higher than second and possibly some third years, but he still couldn't last forever. He wanted to keep things as non-violent as possible, to minimize the trouble he'd be in. 

The boys, all three, began casting spells to break his shield, and it began to waver. He'd hold it as long as he could, as those boys launched cutting curse after cutting curse; they were aiming to hurt, to make them bleed, and now Elias was getting angry. One cast another spell, a toxic glowing green, and his shield dropped just in time for him to get hit with two cutting curses, both from his armpits to his shoulders.

He dropped his wand and clenched his teeth to bite down on the scream that was on the tip of his tongue. Jason reached out and grabbed him, digging his fingers into the fresh cuts, and Elias bit his tongue so hard he was bleeding; he could taste the nauseating copper. He reached out regardless and grabbed Ron, dug his fingers into his friend's arm to make sure they wouldn't be separated. 

Josue was swift when he raised his leg and kicked Elias' hand, the sickening crunch as at least three of his fingers shattered echoed in the small room. He still refused to give them the satisfaction of hearing him in pain, though it was probably visible on his face regardless. 

His grip wavered, and Jason yanked him hard, pulling him out of the closet altogether. Josue pulled Ron out seconds later, and Elias saw him stumble as he was shoved, his knees almost buckling under his weight; he knew Ron was drugged then, but his friend didn't act like that. His eyes were full of tears from the pain of dirty fingers digging into fresh cuts and he clutched his right hand to his chest, cradling it to protect his broken fingers the best he could. 

Luis didn't beat around the bush, didn't play around, he just swung. Josue had let Ron go, and the redhead fell to the ground in a heap; he wasn't allowed to rest, nor was he given a reprieve before he was yanked back up onto his feet, and Elias saw a splatter of blood on the floor where he'd been. Luis kicked him right in the stomach, and the smaller boy doubled over in pain, wheezing as he struggled to breathe. Josue kicked the back of his knees, making him fall again; Ron was kneeling on the ground, clutching his stomach, when Luis kicked him again, right on the side of the head.

Ron sprawled back onto his ground, and he didn't get back up. He didn't groan in pain, he didn't whine or struggle or move at all; he just fell. The sound of his head hitting the stone floor, the sight of it bouncing off before Ron went limp, would haunt Elias for weeks to come. He'd been struggling to escape Jason's hold since he'd first been grabbed. He's been writhing and scratching and biting all he could reach, hissing like a wild animal. Jason released one of his arms and gripped his hair tight, yanking it up to make Elias look at him.

Elias let his saliva and blood pool in his mouth for a couple of moments before he spat it directly into Jason's face. Jason had opened his mouth to speak, and that's what Elias had been aiming for. He'd been immediately let go, which let him know he'd hit his target. He didn't even have the energy to muster a smile, as he tried to crawl to Ron. 

He was exhausted, and there was an odd pressure building in his ears. Just before he could reach his friend, Luis kicked him right in the ribs;  hard . His body felt like it was on fire, like blood was fire, like his magic was fire. Everything was burning, everything hurt, and the pressure in his ears reached an all-time high. He reached out to Ron, tears slowly dripping out of his eyes.

All of a sudden, there was a loud pop and nothing; no noise, no pain, just dark spots in his vision. His knees gave out, and he lay limp on the ground, reaching out still. He wouldn't make it, he wouldn't reach his friend, but he'd try, he'd try if it was the last thing he did. He had to keep him safe, had to protect him. 

The room shook, and there were thundering footsteps that made him feel like his head was being split open with an ax. Suddenly, someone was shaking him, but he couldn't hear. There was no more pressure in his ears, replaced by a shrill ringing that got louder and louder; he felt every beat of his heart, every expansion of his lungs, and every pitch of the ringing.

He couldn't hear the person shaking him over the sound of the ringing, and eventually, he couldn't even feel the hands on him. His body just felt heavy, his bones were full of lead.

His eyelids fluttered shut, and he finally heard the panicked screams of his brother.

When he woke up, the ringing was dull, nowhere near the piercing, shrill sound of before. His bones, his eyelids, they were too heavy to move. 

His head felt like it was full of cotton, he was lightheaded and nauseous. He felt like he was going to throw up suddenly, bile burning the back of his throat and his mouth sickeningly dry. He felt cold and tired, but luckily the room he was in, the Infirmary most likely, was dark; whether because it was night or the curtains were simply drawn, he didn't know nor care, he was thankful regardless.

He couldn't move at all, couldn't even look to the side. All he could do was stare up, looking at the blurry ceiling, and try to remember how to breathe despite the fire in his chest, the fire that burned hotter with every expansion of his lungs. There was a warm, comforting weight in his left hand, and he squeezed it with his rapidly fading strength before he lost consciousness once more.

When he woke up again, the Infirmary was still dark, and he felt better. There was more weight on him, on his feet and in his other hands, but this time he was strong enough to actually look down. Sebastian was asleep in a chair on his left, holding his hand, while Ron was asleep on a chair on his right, and Harry was in a chair on the foot of the bed, resting his upper body on Elias's legs; Harry's head rested on his calves. 

He didn't remember what happened, nor did he know how long had passed, but he was still tired, and he felt too bad to wake his friends. Harry and Sebastian were both wearing the uniform, while Ron wore the white shirt and pants of an Infirmary patient. The three looked exhausted, with pale skin and dark rings under their eyes.

He leaned back down and fell asleep again.

Sebastian looked down at his little brother, who looked even smaller and paler among the pure white sheets of the Infirmary bed. 

He'd had to be put in a medically induced coma, Ron too, because of the damage both had suffered; their bodies needed a lot of magic and potions to heal, plus having to set broken bones and such, so Madame Pomfrey had put them under to save them the pain.

The little redhead had a severe concussion, one rib had been broken while three others were left bruised, a broken nose, busted lip, a bunch of cuts, bruised knees, and had been drugged; a slow-acting potion, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape were still trying to figure out what exactly it was. Elias had gotten off worse, much worse; severe concussion, two broken ribs, three shattered fingers, three-inch deep cuts from the top of his shoulders to his armpits, and several little cuts caused by splinters. 

In a fit of extreme, accidental magic Elias had blown up the desk closest to him; it had completely exploded, leaving behind a black scorched mark on the ground it once stood on. 

He had run into the Potter boy on his search for the room, and they'd joined forces. The pair had gotten there just a few seconds after the desk had exploded, and the sight of his little brother lying unmoving on the ground would haunt him for weeks to come. He'd rushed over immediately, while Potter went to check on Ron; after what had happened in the Great Hall on the first morning, he didn't think the boy was a Weasley anymore.

Elias' eyes were moving all over under his eyelids, and he'd been crying, but not a single sound left his mouth. Sebastian, in a moment of hysterics, had shaken his brother, but even then nothing happened. Then his brother's eyes stopped moving and slid shut and he screamed, because at that moment he was genuinely terrified his brother had died until he realized he could still hear the beat of his heart; as weak as it was.

Potter had carried Ron; the boy was either surprisingly strong or the redhead was worryingly light, while Sebastian had carried his brother. Only once the two were safely in the Infirmary and under Madam Pomfrey's care did he bother to rush back to the Great Hall to tell Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall what he knew. 

It had been four days now; he'd been allowed to skip classes that day since it was a Friday and the spell keeping Elias asleep was lifted, all he had to do was wait for him to wake up, which could happen any day. Potter had chosen to still go to class, to take notes for both Elias and Ron. At first, Sebastian had been slightly angry that Harry didn't seem so concerned about them, not enough to stay by his friend's sides, until he'd raised a dark eyebrow and asked Sebastian if he planned to let anyone hurt them.

Potter had explained, then, that he was only leaving because he knew Sebastian would stay and watch over the two boys. He had snorted then, the first bit of joy he'd felt in days. Potter,  Harry , had smiled at him and continued on his way; he returned during meal times and brought Sebastian snacks, chatting with him idly until class started again and he had to leave.

Sebastian had many expectations for the Boy Who Lived, and Harry only lived up to the good ones. He'd thought he'd be arrogant, but smart. Sneaky, witty, loud, boisterous and proud. Harry was smart, he soaked up information like a sponge, and he was sneaky, he knew how to use his small stature to his advantage. He was witty, he was always either dryly sarcastic or painfully earnest, and Sebastian was growing to really like the kid; he now saw what his brother did. He, shockingly, liked the boy too. 

Harry and Elias would be good  for  each other, and without a doubt, they'd be good  to  each other. They were equally as attached, and it made Sebastian wonder if perhaps Harry was like them. If he shared their heritage. He didn't think so, but he wouldn't ever be sure unless the boy confirmed or denied it.

Both of them had been sleeping in the Infirmary, in chairs beside Ron and Elias. It was comforting to know they'd be the first people they saw when they woke up, and it was easier to sleep knowing they were less than a foot away.

Sebastian was nervous as he paced up and down the Infirmary, anxiety thrumming under his skin. Those jackasses had gone too far, and he'd make sure they knew it. They'd made enemies of the entire Slytherin house; not that they'd been regarded highly before, but before they'd just been annoying but harmless pests, now they were actual threats. And what did snakes do when threatened? They lunge, they kill. 

His friends, Eden Garcia, Abel Mejia, and DJ Davis, were ready to go with him and jump the boys, who'd gotten off with minimal injuries. The worst they'd gotten was a few splinters and their ears rang for a little after the explosion, while the boys they hunted down and beat like animals were still unconscious almost a week later.

Sebastian would bet they went after Elias because they were brothers. because they suspected his blood. They knew Sebastian was part creature, and they thought Elias was too; Ron either got caught in the crossfire or they went after him for his blood status, a traitor. For Gryffindors, they sure were prejudiced. Before, Sebastian and his group were their main targets; all four had some type of creature inheritance and were unregistered.

DJ had a siren father and a wizard mother, leaving him a siren with a slightly weaker voice than a full-blooded but a compelling one nonetheless. Abel was also a siren, though didn't have a hypnotizing song like DJ but instead was able to convince and manipulate people with only a few words, and a shrill shriek that Sebastian was sure could deafen someone if his friend wasn't actively suppressing it with a magic necklace. Eden was an unregistered werewolf who hid away in the Room of Requirement every full moon, while Sebastian and both his parents had creature blood.

He didn't like thinking about his own creature status, didn't like thinking about what would happen if he was found out. 

Before, the Gryffindor boys were content to bully the four of them after they found out about DJ and Abel, who'd been testing their voices out on their friends, who had willingly volunteered. The boys threatened to twist things with the Headmaster, unless all four became willing punching bags, which they did. All four could easily handle themselves, but they chose not to fight back to keep Luis, Jason, and Josue's attention on themselves, knowing the three would be all too happy to target the younger students.

While the three were unaware that Eden and Sebastian were also inhuman, they wouldn't let their friends get hurt alone. The four had each other, that's just how it had been since the very first day, on the train.

Now, his friends were ready to commit an incredible act of violence on behalf of his brother, and he'd never loved them more. DJ was raised in the muggle world, aware of magic but disconnected from it. His mother had chosen to live among the muggles upon her graduation from Hogwarts; he lived one year in an underwater community with his dad and one year on land with his mother. 

DJ's mother Stephanie was a very no-nonsense, serious, firecracker of a woman. Sebastian loved her like his own, and he'd been told extensively by both DJ and Stephanie that he would always be welcome in their home, Eden and Abel too. He'd even taken Elias over to their house once, and he could tell Stephanie loved his brother like a son like she loved them all.

She'd been more than happy to send them some things once she heard about what happened.

In his dorm, which he shared with his three friends as their fifth dorm mate had chosen to move rooms a couple of months into their first year, there were three wooden baseball bats and four brass knuckles, waiting for them. Eden had accepted the brass knuckles but had chosen to use his bare hands instead of a baseball bat. They'd even tracked down said old dorm mate, Luka Luster, and asked him to record the fight for Mrs. Davis, and he'd been all too eager to agree.

So now, it was Friday afternoon, and he was waiting, pacing around, practically bursting with restless energy.

Ron had woken up for a couple hours the night before and had moved to a chair, to sit next to Elias. He and Harry were talking quietly, had been since Harry returned from Potions. Sebastian occasionally would tune into their conversation, to listen about what they were talking about. Usually, it was just drama Harry had heard around the castle. He'd started a bit when Harry, out of nowhere, snapped his fingers and started tearing through his bag, looking for something.

After a few moments of searching, Harry pulled out a long piece of parchment and several other pieces of paper to show his friend. Sebastian raised an eyebrow looking at it because it was far too long to be simple classwork or even homework, but first years typically were overwhelmed by the amount of work they were given and rarely, if ever, took on any personal projects. This batch of firsties was something else though, or at least this unlikely trio.

Harry was showing off the papers, and Ron was avidly listening, taking in every word and reverently reading each page. It was really sweet to see the two boys working so hard and being proud of each other for that hard work. Harry waved him over, and he lightly jogged to where they were seated and took the book Harry offered him, a muggle book he'd spotted at the library, and checked out. 

Nancy Drew: The Whispering Statue . It sounded interesting enough, so he got to reading; it was a short book, and it gave him something to do for the next couple of hours because he'd already finished all his homework assigned that week. 

The sun had gone down, and the three fell asleep in their chairs, but Sebastian felt oddly light when his eyes finally slid shut.

Elias woke up the next day, on Saturday morning, and he'd be released later that day if his condition didn't drastically drop. Sebastian just smiled sharply as he double-tapped his mirror; he'd found a way to connect a bunch of them. He could now easily talk to Eden, Abel, DJ, Elias, and his parents, which he knew would come in handy. He'd have to explain it all to Elias, which he would do once his revenge was done.

His friends were plotting, had been plotting since Friday morning. He was unbelievably excited to see what those brilliant minds had come up with, and so excited to see his brother in his regular clothes instead of those haunting white clothes Madam Pomfrey gave to every patient who would be staying for more than a day. Those clothes made Elias look smaller and more delicate. He didn't like it.

Elias was small, yes, but he wasn't delicate, nor was he fragile. Elias was strong, he was fierce and loyal and determined; he burned brighter than any flame and he'd hurt those who tried to put him out, to dim his brother's light.

Elias waved him off, at noon, and told him to go see his friends. Sebastian was hesitant, but he did just that; he walked straight to his dorm with a cruel smirk on his face. He'd spilled blood for his family before, he would do it again. To him, it was an honor to protect those he loved. 

Chapter Text

Sebastian felt liquid fire running through his veins, an inferno in his chest, and a voice akin to a dragon's roar in his head. 'Make them pay' it hissed, rough and so very angry. 'They touched who is yours, they hurt him. Make them feel the pain he has, make them regret'  the creature in him demanded, leaving no room for argument. 

And so Sebastian marched down the corridors of Hogwarts, a metal baseball bat over his shoulder, held so tightly his knuckles were white. Around him stood his friends, rallying at his sides and back to bring justice upon those who wronged them, because they knew if they did not avenge themselves, no one else would. They were as angry as he was, they were four powerful forces walking, breathing, and fighting as one. 

Abel stood menacingly to Sebastian's right, standing at an imposing 6 feet tall. He was the most physically intimidating, tall and muscular. Abel was a gentle giant; he'd rarely hurt a fly. Not that anyone else knew that.

Eden hung back to the left, his leather boots making a satisfying thud with each step. He walked at a leisurely pace, his fingers locked behind his head. His hair was a crimson red this month, vibrant against his pale skin. He wore fingers leather gloves, his brass knuckles heavy in his pockets. 

DJ walked behind Eden, leaving their formation a weird, lopsided diamond, but Sebastian walked easier knowing someone was at his back. DJ, like him, walked with his head high and shoulders squared, swinging his bat idly. There was a manic smile stretching from ear to ear, and blood would not look out of place on his face. He looked from side to side absentmindedly, not worried nor checking their surroundings. The way he stalked the halls was predatory, like a shark hunting or a wolf prowling. 

They made a scary sight; their peers from all years, all houses, gave them a wide berth. They were men on a mission, a storm brewing, and no one wanted to be caught in the crossfire.

Fred Weasley thought he knew anger.

He thought he was familiar with the feeling of his blood boiling in his veins, thought he knew the pain of biting his tongue so hard he bled so he didn't say something out of line and the feeling of clenching his fist so hard his fingers cracked and his palm bled.

But all the anger he had ever felt in his life, all that fire and pain was nothing compared to what he felt now, embers compared to the raging forest fire inside of him.

His little brother was in the fucking Infirmary, and no one had told him. He wondered why there had been more eyes on him and George, why Ron hadn't been around, but he'd always been more solitary and him going to the kitchens instead of the Grand Hall was becoming common, but the eyes on him were new. Every move he made, every single twitch was being monitored closely, people watching him and his twin like they were the brand new exhibit in the zoo. They were looked at with fear, dread, with trepidation, like they were bombs ticking down, capable of exploding and destroying everything in a second. His skin was crawling every second of the day, always under supervision. He felt like a tiger, agitatedly pacing its cage. 

His breaking point came on the fourth day, in Herbology. A girl had flinched away from him when he reached for his wand too quickly. The growing expectation for them to lash out had put them on edge so much that it was, predictably, the cause of the explosion. 

"What?" He hissed, his teeth clenched tightly and a tic in his jaw. The poor girl, a Hufflepuff, looked like she was on the verge of passing out, but Fred was relentless. Everyone looked at him like a wild animal, but they seemed to forget beasts had teeth. "What. Happened  ?" He pressed, looming over her. He scowled, his eyes cold and dark in his anger. "What in Godric's name happened that has everyone looking at us like we're going to blow up?" He asked again, visibly losing his patience. 

"Y-your brother, R-Ron, is in the Infirmary. He was a-attacked by three fifth-years. He and a-another boy, Elias. Everyone's been w-waiting for your r-retaliation." She managed to stutter out, squeaking in fright before scurrying away in search of another group to join.

Fred's muscles went loose, like a puppet with its strings cut. He stared uselessly at the space she'd previously occupied, his eyes alight with rage. The tension in the greenhouse swelled until it was suffocating, everyone shooting them unsubtle looks. Fred, without a single word, turned on his feet and threw the doors open with a wave of his hand. He stormed out of the greenhouse, feeling dozens of eyes on him. With George at his heels, he went searching. He knew exactly who'd done it, and by Merlin's name, they'd pay. By Merlin, they would pay in blood.

Most students knew that the trio of fifth-years liked to hang around one of the unused towers to smoke whatever they'd been sent that week. Sebastian saw the twins marching down the hallway and he felt a feral grin stretch onto his face. "You two finally found out, didn't you? What happened?" He said, his tone light and friendly as if he were asking about the weather. George nodded, silent and tense. 

"You knew?" He asked, his voice terse. Sebastian nodded. "Eli called for me, right before it happened. Was too late, when I got to them. Your brother's okay though, Potter got him to the Infirmary quick and Madam Pomfrey takes her patients' care very seriously, you know. Wanted to tell you, but was too busy planning." He said, ending his sentence with a shrug. 

Fred just looked at him blankly but nodded. "Could we join you?" Fred asked, his voice hollow, empty. Abel grinned, revealing his dimpled cheeks, before quickly schooling his expression. "The more, the merrier." He replied happily before he turned and began walking again. "Come on, I'll fill you in as we walk," Sebastian said with a smirk, nodding towards the door to the staircase that led up to Josue, Luis, and Jason's preferred tower.

Sebastian smirked wider and wider as he caught the twins up on everything that had happened in the last four days. They both, steadily, began shaking with rage. There was nothing amusing about what had happened, he felt their anger and he understood how they must have felt these past four days; being treated like outcasts for no reason and being told nothing. But he loved to see love; especially in the extremes.

The twins loved their youngest brother so much they were about to beat their peers up for laying hands on him; that's the kind of thing he expected from Slytherins, who stood up for each other because no one else would, certainly not from Gryffindors. Last he heard, though, was that the twins were on thin ice with their peers for having a snake of a brother; no matter that Ron had managed to befriend not only a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, which was a feat in and of itself, but also the biggest celebrity in their whole world, Harry James Potter. A snake Ron may be, but he was powerful and smart; if he knew how to play the game of their society, he could easily gain the respect of their house, and Sebastian couldn't wait to see it.

"You two know how you're seen, right?" Eden chimes in once Sebastian finishes catching the twins up. "Right now, you're ticking bombs. Once people find out you did this, and they will find out, you'll be total outcasts. You won't be trusted, you won't be included, you'll be treated like monsters. You willing to pay that price?"

Fred nods, his face still carefully blank and his step never faltering. "Someone has to do something, and it won't be any of the teachers. They got off with a slap on the wrist for hospitalizing two kids, they'll take that as a sign that they can do whatever they want. They touched our fucking brother. So damn everyone else at this school, we're going to help you teach those three a lesson they won't forget   any   time soon." 

DJ nodded sagely, his beanie almost falling off. "Respect, dude. You gotta stand up for your family, because at the end of the day, we only have each other, you know?" He said, and George nodded. 

"We haven't been the best brothers to Ron, I'll admit. But we're trying now, and we have to set an example." He said, and Sebastian smirked again. "When shit hits the fan, you'll have a place with us. You can sit with us at the Slytherin table; the others won't say anything if they know what's good for them, and trust me, they do. You'll want to surround yourself with allies, or at least people who aren't enemies, for when word gets out. We snakes travel in packs for a reason, you know?'" DJ continued, tone light and words cheerful, but the twins understood the message. 

"Thanks, we appreciate it. We'll definitely be taking you up on that offer." George said with a smile, and Fred nodded in lieu of verbally responding. 

"What are your thoughts on you two sharing a bed?" Eden asked suddenly, after a moment of silence. Fred spared him a glance out of the corner of his eye but shrugged. George shook his head with a small smile as he responded, much more relaxed compared to the beginning of the conversation, when they'd first begun ascending the staircase. "We're cool with it, why?" He asked.

"You're a good person." Is all Eden said in response, nodding firmly. George looked at him in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. "You're well-liked if you didn't consider that your roommates could and would attack you in your sleep for this." Eden clarified, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly. "You're directly going against your house, that isn't done here. Not only that, but you're doing it with us, no good snakes. You won't be safe anywhere after this, not just in the hallways. We have an open bed in our dorm though, if you'd be willing to take it. We all share a room, we had a fifth but he...switched rooms way back in first year, and no one's wanted to take his place." He continued, twitching nervously at the last sentence. 

George hummed, and Fred glanced back at him. Sebastian observed the wordless conversation that ensued with amusement and a smirk on his face, which he softened into a smile. Eden was a good person too, Sebastian knew, but he stayed silent. Werewolves had such low self-esteem, it was appalling. But, out of the kindness of his heart, he was offering up one of the two rooms in the entire castle he felt safe in, so others could feel safe too; it was sweet. It calmed the roaring in his head, turning it into a satisfied purr for a moment, giving him a brief reprieve. 

"Yeah, we'll...take you up on that too," Fred said finally, breaking the silence after a couple of minutes. "We'll pack our bags tonight, before it gets out, and head over at, say...8 PM? Is that alright?" He said, and Sebastian nodded. "You're not waiting for the news to get out? By suddenly switching up and being all buddy-buddy with us, you'll practically be declaring to the whole school that you did this." He said conversationally. 

"It's the smart thing to do." George shot back, his tone almost challenging. "Why wait for there to be danger before taking protective measures? Why wait to give them a chance to stop us?" He said, and Sebastian nodded placatingly. "You're right, sorry. Didn't mean to insinuate anything, just...you're not even waiting for the chance to defend yourselves? You'd just trust our word, our predictions, over your friends? You think they'd turn on you so fast?" He said, and he watched another silent conversation.

Both twins seemed to be struggling with themselves, arguing with each other for a little before Fred begrudgingly spoke. "It's because they're our friends and we know them so well that we know what they're capable of. And we're trusting your word because you have so much experience with the entire student body, and Merlin's  balls, even the  teachers turning their backs on you. You know, better than any other house, how fickle friendships and peace can be. Our friends...aren't always very good people; best get out before they decide to get revenge." 

"I thought you lions were supposed to be made of sugar, spice, and everything nice?" Abel said sarcastically, and George shrugged with a rueful smile. "Who are we beating up and why, again?" He shot back, and Abel nodded. "Touché," He said with a smile, before schooling his expression to maintain his intimidating status.

They were almost at the top; Sebastian could see daylight now. He smiled wide and unhinged, full of anticipation. His hold on his bat tightened so much that his knuckles popped, and he eagerly grabbed his chin and shoved it to the side until his neck cracked, then did it again to the other side. He ignored the incredulous looks he knew he was receiving from Fred and George, continuing on his trek with a pep in his step.

Just before they got to the top, when they could hear the trio talking but were not yet visible, he turned to the twins. He looked Fred dead in his eyes, searching, before turning to George. 

"Once you do this, there's no going back. You'll be seen as no better than us, and you might even risk disownment- like Ron. Even if you don't end up hitting them and just watch, you'll still be associated with us, because we're not hiding this; we're not erasing their memories, not Confunding them, they'll know you were here and what you did. Even if we did try to hide, everyone would know. Are you really prepared to make that sacrifice?" He asked seriously, wanting to make sure the twins fully understood the gravity of their choice. 

"We are." Both twins said in unison, just as serious as Sebastian. He smiled again, no longer hiding his feral grin; they would see the worst of him in a matter of minutes, they'd see how far he would go for his loved ones, so there was no point hiding anymore. He got twin grins back, their eyes alight with mischief and anger; his heart fluttered in his chest because he knew they would fight right in with his crew. "You've found your people, here with us," Sebastian said brightly before he turned and strolled into the tower, thoroughly enjoying the shock on Josue, Luis, and Jason's faces.

He stepped to the side, and the others followed him. It was a sickening satisfaction, watching the people who had tormented you for years realize there was no getting out of this; they would pay for their crimes, and it would hurt. They would pay for their crimes, and Sebastian would enjoy every single second of it.

George thought he'd feel dread when he stepped through the door to the tower. 

He thought he'd feel like he was walking to his grave because socially, he was. He thought he'd feel nervous, scared, or guilty for what he was about to do, but he didn't feel any of that. He felt joy.   He felt satisfaction. He felt vindication.

He felt high off of it, the feeling of righteous justice coursing through his veins. Once everyone was in, George looked at Sebastian, who nodded. Without a word, he stepped forward and grabbed Jason by the front of his shirt, punching him with a left hook as hard as he possibly could. He let Jason go right after his fist collided, and the boy fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. There was blood on his knuckles, blood on Jason's nose, and it made him feel triumphant.

Luis whipped out his wand, but Eden was on him before the Gryffindor could blink, tackling him to the ground. Abel grabbed Josue as the tan boy had tried to make a run for it, grabbing him by the waist and throwing him to the ground next to Jason.

George felt a wide smirk on his face as he kicked Jason right in the ribs. He felt emboldened, surrounded by others who were supporting his wrongdoings, so he kicked Jason again and again until something cracked and he screamed. He found Jason to be pathetic, frankly. He'd landed one hit on the other boy, and Jason had just given up; he hadn't tried to fight back. 

He heard Luis scream and looked up to see Abel holding him three feet off the ground by the front of his shirt and walking closer to the railing of the tower. He knew Abel wouldn't actually kill him, just scare him, so he went back to kicking Jason.

Luis, at least, looked like he tried to fight back; Sebastian was covered in bloody scratches on his arms and face. That must have been what pissed Abel off; Luis hurting Sebastian. DJ and Eden were beating Josue, and George shuddered at the sound of his muffled screams. He was joined a second later by Fred, who smirked at him before he leaned down to pick Jason up. George grabbed his peer from under the armpits, his hands on Jason's shoulders, and held him up so Fred could use him like a punching bag.

He didn't know how long the beating lasted, just that by the end of it his knuckles were busted open, bruised, and bloody. His feet hurt, and there was so much blood on the ground that he couldn't tell who it belonged to; Luis didn't go down easily, and Jason tried fighting back once he heard his leader's blood-curdling screams as Abel held him over the edge of the tower. Josue put up a fight too, but he was no match for Eden and DJ, who were both scrawny-looking but deceptively strong. 

He was panting once it was all over, achy and tired, but he just smiled and locked eyes with his twin. In no world was what they'd just done morally right, but he didn't care.

Eden motioned for him and Fred to get closer, and once he did, he saw what he recognized as a Polaroid camera in his hands. They were creating evidence, but everyone in the castle would know what happened in a matter of hours so it didn't matter. He grabbed Fred and slung his arm over his shoulder, pulling him in close. They took a group photo, all of them smiling wide and happy with three unconscious, bloody lumps in the background.

Eden showed him the photo a minute later, and they all looked like murderers. "Merlin's balls, we all look deranged. We look like we just broke out of Azkaban." Fred laughed next to him, and George laughed right along with him. He was glad Fred was talking again; seeing his twin be so silent felt unnatural. They were both very social and very loud. They unapologetically took up space, they made themselves known; seeing his twin brother walk around like a statue was unnerving, it made him feel eerie and uneasy. He didn't like carrying conversation.

Sebastian effortlessly conjured his Patronus, a falcon of some kind, and gave it a message to pass on to Madam Pomfrey. The twins nodded in unison, smiling at the group one last time before they turned to leave, to return to their dorm and begin packing their stuff. Abel reached out and grabbed George's shoulder, carefully turning him around. George was confused, but went along with it; he trusted them, he genuinely believed they wouldn't hurt him. 

Abel waved his wand, and in an impressive display of wordless magic, George felt all the blood that stained his clothes disappear. He'd forgotten about that. 

Abel quickly did the same to Fred and gave them a nod and a smile, then let them go. He was quick to go down the stairs, almost sprinting to Gryffindor Tower with Fred hot on his heels.

Packing was a blur; they finished in record time, packing up every single one of their belongings. They were quick to shrink their trunks and make their way down to the dungeon. George was completely exhausted, he just wanted to pass out and sleep for a week, but he knew neither he nor Fred were safe yet. Once they settled in, they'd need to visit Ron and make sure he was alright. It was an odd feeling, the halls of the castle that had been their home away from home for years no longer registering as safe. 

When they finally arrived at the entrance of the dungeon, Eden was waiting for them. George hadn't spoken to the pale boy for very long, but he liked him. Eden seemed to have a good head on his shoulders and he was kind, opening up his home to two strangers.

Eden pushed himself off the wall where he'd been leaning, smiling tiredly at them. "Come on, I'm tired and ready to nap for a full day." He said teasingly, and George found himself smiling as he walked behind the Slytherin. 

As they walked, he paid close attention to their surroundings and which wall was the entrance. "The password is just Salazar right now, but it changes every fortnight," Eden said, and the twins nodded in unison. The wall opened up, revealing the Slytherin common room, and it was both everything and nothing like George had been expecting.

It was ridiculously fancy; full of plush armchairs and leather books, green and silver wherever you looked, and intricate carvings in the walls. The first thing he noticed was the long wall to his left, covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. Directly across from the entrance was a wall of glass, and he could see into the Black Lake; there was a thick sill under it, cushioned, to settle down and read. What was the most unexpected thing though was that it was warm; it was the first thing George noticed. He'd thought, since the Slytherin common room was in the dungeon, it would be freezing, but it was nice and warm. The atmosphere didn't feel tense, didn't feel hostile; it felt....welcoming. George found himself really liking it.

Not that Gryffindor wasn't welcoming; it was. But the Slytherin common room had a different kind of warm, a different kind of bond.

There were very few people in the common room; he didn't recognize anyone personally but the girl sitting in the green armchair closest to the fireplace had the long black hair and the slightly raised noses the Fawleys were known for, and the boy sitting on the corner of the sill with a book in his hands was without a doubt a Rowle. He couldn't put names to their faces, but he figured knowing their last names was safe enough.

The girl shot him a dirty look as soon as he stepped in, but the look Eden gave her was dirtier. Another boy sitting by the fireplace, a Macmillan, opened his mouth to say something but Eden shut it down quickly. "As of right now, until further notice, the Weasley twins are ours. Ours as in Slytherins, and ours as in they belong to Sebastian. I'm sure you don't want to get on his bad side, so you were going to welcome them into our home, right Avery?" He asked, his voice sickeningly sweet, and smug because he knew he had won.

George found himself blushing, but Macmillan, Avery Macmillan, was stuttering in shock, speechless. The girl from before's brown eyes were blown wide, and she shook her head before standing up and walking over to him, sticking her hand out. "Sorry for the earlier rudeness, I thought you were here to blame us for what happened to your brother, or something silly like that. I'm Ari Fawley, it's nice to finally meet you." She said kindly, and George smiled as he shook her hand. "George Weasley, nice to meet you, Ari Fawley." He said, and she repeated her introduction to Fred, who shook her hand with a smile too.

Eden looked pleased with the turn of events, and nodded towards a stone doorway in the back, breaking up the wall of bookshelves. "Alright you two, let me take you to our room." He said lightly, and George eagerly followed; he desperately wanted to see Ron, and also sleep for a week.

Into the doorway were long, seemingly endless hallways to both the left and right. Eden, without faltering, turned to the left and began walking; George scrambled to follow while also taking in the impressive halls and the beautiful decorations on the walls; letters framed and hung up, paintings, drawings. 

After a minute of walking, they reached a door that stood out from the rest; it was covered in claw marks, and some signs hung on it that said Beware of Dog, Trespassers Not Welcome, Point of No Return, No Man's Land, and things similar. George opened his mouth to ask, but Eden beat him to the punch. "What's with all the signs? DJ's idea of a joke. His mom went on a trip about a year ago to the States, and he saw one funny sign that inspired him to get a bunch more. The claw marks are fake too, illusion spell to go with the Beware of Dog sign." He sighed, and George laughed at the absurdity of muggle signs in a Slytherin common room.

The trio walked into the room, and it was exactly as George had expected; cozy. Sebastian was lounging in his pajamas on the bed closest to the door on the left side his head resting on Abel's back as the taller boy was laying on his stomach, working on an assignment. DJ was taking a shower, judging by the loud, off-key singing.

Sebastian, without moving, pointed towards the bed directly opposite the door. George and Fred didn't waste any time, they started unpacking and organizing their things in the trunk at the foot of the bed and the bedside tables. George got changed quickly, from the student robes into a plain sweater and black pants; he could feel eyes on him but he didn't care, he wanted to see Ron. 

Eden offered to take them, and George was out of the door in minutes, Fred on his heels once more.

They were out of the common room no less than fifteen minutes after they entered, speed walking out of the dungeon. "Oh! Before I forget, Eden can I ask you about something?" He said, stopping for a moment before resuming his walking, once they were out of the dungeon. Eden looked at him out of the side of his eye, but nodded, walking with his fingers locked behind his head. Eden looked like he had not a single care in the world, he walked with purpose, like he had nothing to hide nor anyone to hide from. He walked with confidence, like he knew exactly where he was going and like nothing fazed him.

"Earlier, you said that we belonged to the Slytherins and then that we belonged to Sebastian, what did you mean by that?" He continued, and Eden hummed thoughtfully for a moment. 

"Well, as of today you're honorary Slytherins; that means none of the other snakes can touch you outside of the common room. Since we're alone against the whole school, we have to show a united front; so that meant not only would you be safe from snakes outside of the common room, but that they'd protect you if they saw you in trouble. The 'you belong to Sebastian' part was so that they'd avoid you even in the common room. You saw what he did today, Seb isn't one to be messed with. He's...possessive, he doesn't like anyone touching whatever or whoever he sees as his." Eden eventually replies carefully, but never breaking his uncaring facade. 

"Alright." He says with a shrug, because he recognized that what Eden said was the safest option for them, and he was just ensuring they'd be safe.

"You don't care? That I just declared to our entire house that you belong to someone?" He said incredulously, and George laughed because he had to admit that it did sound far more bizarre when said out loud. "Yeah, it's weird, but it keeps us safe, doesn't it? Hell, after today, I don't think we'll need much protection, but it's still good to have. You don't wait for your house to get robbed before installing a security system, do you?" He said between chuckles.

Eden let out a surprised bark of laughter too, sharp and sudden but lovely all the same. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He said, wiping away a tear. George looked at his twin, who'd been quiet for the past couple of minutes, and saw Fred looking at him calculatingly. He looked at Fred, confused, but Fred just shook his head, mouthing 'Later'.

They walked in silence for several minutes until they finally arrived at the doors of the Infirmary. George took a deep breath because he didn't think he was ready to talk to Ron yet; he'd know what they'd done. There's no way he wouldn't know, when his attackers showed up in the beds next to him, beaten within an inch of their lives. 

George shared a look with Fred, and together they pushed open the Infirmary doors. It was time to face the music.

Chapter Text

Ron often found himself fantasizing about being loved so much that someone would resort to violence for him. 

He dreamed about being wanted so badly that someone spilled blood for him, and he liked that thought. Of course, he knew that morally, that was wrong and definitely not something he should fantasize about, but his whole life, he had yearned to be loved like he loved.

Because he would hurt people for those he loved. He would spill blood, split lips, and break bones for those he loved. He wouldn't allow anyone or anything to take Harry and Elias from him, or Charlie and Bill, or even Ginny. He refused. And he just wanted to be loved like that in turn.

Elias was dark, he might understand, but Ron feared he’d be the only one. It felt lonely, at times, to be the only one willing to go that far. But he kept his mouth shut because he refused to scare anyone off, not when affection towards him of all people was as scarce as it was. He'd only just met Harry and burned most of his bridges that same day, so he didn't have many people in his corner. He couldn't afford to lose them; they meant too much to him now.

It would be so easy to scare them off, though, with the way he loved. He didn’t enjoy hurting people, no matter how angry he was; it made him feel far too much like his mother’s son. He was just scared of his people getting taken from him like everything else was; he wasn’t a violent person, but he was possessive. If he was anything less, he was seen as weak and an easy target. 

So early on, he made everything about him violent. His outbursts of anger, his reactions to surprises, his instincts—everything was violent, including his love. Not inherently so; he was capable of being gentle and soft, just not as easily, not anymore. 

Ron normally didn't like thinking about himself and his complicated relationship with love. How he always felt he loved deeper than he was loved in turn, how he yearned to be wanted but was afraid of being seen, how he craved affection yet refused to ask for it, refused to admit seeking it out. He typically shied away from such thoughts; they left him feeling...mushy and vulnerable—things he couldn't afford to feel because they made him lower his defenses and left him feeling like a sitting duck, like easy prey. So he didn't think about it.

Until he got jumped. By three older students. And beaten to the point of an extended infirmary stay being necessary. 

Once he woke up, he was still confined to the infirmary for another day or two, so he had nothing to do but think. Sebastian had left hours ago, and Harry was worn out. There were bags under the small boy's eyes; he obviously hadn't been sleeping well. Elias wasn't quite asleep but was almost there, exhausted and drained from his frankly impressive display of accidental magic.

He had nothing to do but sit there and think, his thoughts wandering back to his loved ones without fail. They were never far from his mind; they were never gone from his thoughts for long. He sat there and remembered that day as best he could, his memories covered in the hazy film of whatever he'd been drugged with.

He sat there and remembered how angry Elias looked—how he struggled and fought, his chest feeling warm at how desperately his friend tried to protect him. Elias' eyes looked darker in Ron's memories; his teeth looked sharper too, which Ron found odd but didn't question. He didn't think his memories were very reliable because of how hard the hits he'd taken to the head were and because of the aforementioned drugging. 

Elias looked normal now; his eyes were brown and his teeth were blunt. In the moment, he didn't remember anything being said about Elias' changed appearance, so evidently it must have been all in his head. He did always have a large imagination; he had to, and there was little else to entertain him in the burrow.

The part where his memory was the faultiest was his attackers themselves. 

He remembered getting beat; he remembered three tall figures, but he had been so out of it that he didn't remember their faces and wouldn't be able to point them out in a crowd. All he remembered was pain, fear, and worry. He was terrified for his friends and even for his own life. When the explosion went off, some part of him was genuinely worried that the classroom was where he’d die. That the classroom would be where Elias died.

The explosion still affected him, even days later. Whenever the conversation lulled into silence, his ears would ring fiercely and constantly. Now that both his friends were asleep, the ringing was back; it was all he could hear. It never went away, but when people would talk, their voices drowned out the sounds of the ringing. 

Ron signed, looking doen at Harry and reaching a hand out to gently rest it on the smaller boy’s head, playing with his hair absentmindedly. 

Harry was in a chair to his left, his legs pressed up against the mattress, and his head was resting on his folded arms, right next to Ron’s knees. The ginger was slightly mesmerized by watching Harry’s eyes move around under his eyelids. He’d never been close enough to a sleeping person to notice it before, but now that he had, it gave him something to focus on. Anything but the attack. 

Elias had crawled out of his own bed and into Ron’s about an hour prior, his left leg resting under Ron’s, his right leg thrown over the ginger’s waist, and his arms wrapped tightly around his chest, mindful of their broken ribs. Elias’ head was buried into the crook of Ron’s neck, his ear resting above his pulse. 

He liked the weight of another person resting on him; it felt nice. He liked the warmth the other boy provided too; Elias always seemed to be warm, no matter what, something both Harry and Ron appreciated immensely as they ran on the colder side. 

Harry, thankfully, hadn’t said a word when Elias wrapped himself around Ron as much as possible, leaving the two pressed up together so tightly that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. He just looked at them and giggled a little before he continued talking about what they’d missed while they slept.

Now, Ron could feel sleep weighing his eyelids down, and he could tell he’d be joining his friends in the real world soon. But before he fell asleep, he wondered what the homes of his friends were, with the way they attached themselves to him like limpets the second he showed them a morsel of affection. Not that he was complaining; he was as starved for the warmth of another person’s kindness as they were because he’d been denied it most of his life. He was starting to suspect the same for Harry, but Sebastian seemed to adore his little brother, from the little interactions Ron had witnessed, so he was unsure about Elias.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, the heavy wooden doors of the infirmary were thrown open, and Madam Pomfrey ran in, levitating three limp, bloody lumps behind her. Ron felt as though he jumped out of his skin, flinching violently. His hand fell from Harry’s head, and he clutched at the soft sheets of his bed, almost feeling the cold stone of the classroom floor.

Ron gave himself a moment to catch his breath before his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he looked at Madam Pomfrey. He looked at her as she gently lowered each lump into a bed, and Ron realized the lumps were, in fact, humans, beaten so roughly he couldn’t tell who they were. 

He stared curiously for a moment before grabbing Harry’s hand and rubbing soothing circles into his knuckles to calm him. Ron barely noticed because of his own fear, but Harry had startled so hard he almost fell out of his chair. Elias woke up to the loud noise, whimpering in pain. Right, Elias had a bad concussion.

Ron shushed him softly, gently lifting his other arm and rubbing circles into the nape of Elias’ neck. Elias curled up even closer, trying to make himself invisible so Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t separate them.

Any sleepiness he might have had was gone, so he just laid there with his friends, and they had a whispered conversation as Madam Pomfrey frantically tried to treat the three other patients. Harry seemed concerned about the three, Ron was mildly curious, and Elias didn’t seem to care at all, content to lie still and be wrapped up in the comfort his friends were all too happy to provide. At one point, Ron scooted over to the very edge of the bed so Harry could climb in and clung to Elias, leaving the brunette in the middle for once. Judging by the quiet, pleased hisses he would occasionally let slip out, Ron didn’t think he was complaining. 

After only a few minutes, Harry had to get up and push Elias’ bed into Ron’s because of how small the beds were; with all three of them precariously balancing on one, Harry was sure to fall off. Elias had once again been falling asleep and let out a grumpy little growl when Harry dared get up and leave their little cuddle pile, and it was one of the silliest noises Ron had ever heard.

All three shuffled around to get more comfortable before they started drifting again, exhaustion seeping down to their bones.

Ron woke up an undetermined amount of time later, with the infirmary doors opening again. The sun had gone down, and the infirmary was dark, quiet, and empty. 

He felt a flash of fear until he looked around and saw Harry sprawled out to Elias’ right, his head hanging off the edge of the bed; the only thing keeping him from falling was the tight hold the brunette had on Harry’s shirt. Elias was still mostly wrapped around Ron, with one hand gripping Harry’s shirt. His head now rested on the ginger’s shoulder instead of buried in his neck.

Ron sat up slowly, knocking Elias off his shoulder. He heard the brunette grumble again before he uncurled and yanked Harry back onto the bed, wrapping around him like he’d done to Ron. Harry sluggishly blinked, lifting his head a bit to look around as best he could without his glasses before dropping back down and going to sleep once more.

Ron brought his fist to his mouth and bit into his knuckles to keep from laughing out loud.

He looked over at the newcomers, blinking in shock to see the twins and a Slytherin he’d seen around before but had yet to catch the name of. He never thought he would see his brothers so openly hanging around a snake, but he wouldn’t complain; it was their choice—their funeral.

George spotted him first, a shy smile on his face. Fred looked sad, his gaze heavy, but he waved before he and George walked over slowly, stopping right next to his bed, and the older Slytherin only nodded at him in greeting before leaning against the door, looking around the infirmary in search of something to do.

Ron raised an eyebrow, the gears in his head turning. His brothers needed someone to escort them to the infirmary and then back to where they would be going—most definitely not to Gryffindor Tower. 

He narrowed his eyes and looked at his brothers, only to see them looking at him already, stricken with grief. He gazed at them blankly, fighting the urge to sneer. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Who died?” He asked blankly, and that seemed to break them out of their stupor. “No one, Ron. Is it that hard to believe that we’re upset you got hurt?” Fred asked quietly, his voice barely louder than a whisper, and Ron did sneer then. 

“Yes, I do find that a little hard to believe. You never seemed to care before.” He spat defensively. Ron felt vulnerable, as if all his weaknesses were being laid bare for his brothers to see. He fucking hated it; he needed to get them to look away. So Ron did what he knew best; he spat venom at them, armed his words with barbed wire, and aimed for the heart. 

He had no clue where he stood with his brothers anymore; he hadn’t spoken to them since they walked him to History of Magic on the first day. They defended him then and protected him, but they’d also tormented him his entire life, and he felt so conflicted looking at them. 

Some part of him yearned for the protection his brothers should have provided. Some part of him wanted to have with his brothers what Elias had with Sebastian, but the twins burned that bridge so long ago that Ron has long since forgotten how to build it back up. He wanted to be wrapped up in a warm embrace; he wanted to feel safe in a way he hadn’t felt in years, but there was only one person who could do that, and he was 1441 miles away in Romania. 

George winced, but Fred had no outward reaction to his words; he just tilted his head and looked down at Ron with a blank stare, though in the depths of his blue eyes, he could still see a bone-deep sadness, and Ron could see his shoulders tremble under the weight of years-old guilt.

Ron fought the urge to flinch at the sight of his brothers looming over him. In the dark, he could barely make out their faces, and for a brief moment, he was back in that classroom, kneeling on the ground and choking on the blood in his mouth. For a second, the warm bed under him was a cold stone, and the haze in his head was drugs and not the concussion. 

He blinked the flashback away and saw a hand reaching towards him. He flinched so hard he almost knocked into Elias, fighting down the urge to scramble back into his friends, because safety in numbers was something that had been drilled into him from a young age, because the twins would never bother him if he was with Charlie or Bill.

He looked at Fred with wild eyes, feeling half feral and not unlike a rabid animal, when all his brother had done was attempt to touch his shoulder. 

Ron clutched the fabric over his heart tightly, feeling his heart pound against his ribcage so loudly that he wouldn’t be surprised if his brothers could hear it too. He looked back up at Fred with another sneer, feeling panic bubbling in his gut, hollowing his chest out, and bile rising in his throat. 

Fred was wearing his uniform; of course he was. But all Ron could see when he looked at his brother was his attacker. His eyes landed on that tie with red and gold, and he had tunnel vision; it was all he could see, and the more he stared at it, the more real the classroom around him felt. 

He could hear Elias fighting tooth and nail, writhing, hissing, scratching, kicking, and biting. He could hear Josue and Luis laughing above him. He could feel the cold stone under his knees and the pounding in his head. He could taste blood in his mouth.

He bared his teeth at the twins, hissing, spitting, and scrambling back into his friends. 

Elias grabbed his waist, his head resting on Ron’s thigh, and Harry somehow ended up thrown over Ron’s legs. He didn’t mind.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He spat, tears of shame and fear in his eyes. Fred looked so sad, so pitying, that Ron felt sick to his stomach. He felt like a cornered animal, like he was in danger and needed to fight his way out even though the danger was supposed to be over and he was supposed to be safe.

Elias knew their names. He knew the names of their attackers, and he’d told Madam Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore, but still, Ron was worried that they’d come back to finish what they had started because something he had learned quickly early on was that he would never get justice. Not when he was younger and his brothers mistreated him, because they’d always get off with a slap on the wrist or maybe a scolding, and most definitely not since coming to Hogwarts because there was never any justice for snakes. 

So even though Ron knew it was his brothers standing over him, he still saw Luis. He still saw Josue. Knowing who it was didn’t make him feel any safer—not when they’d hurt him before and he wouldn’t put it above them to hurt him.

He didn’t feel safe.

But he was used to that, so he swallowed the panic that was rising in his throat and looked back at Fred and George, and was mildly surprised they’d taken several steps back and sat down on the bed next to him to make themselves appear smaller, almost like they knew why he was so afraid.

Ron scowled, his ears burning with shame at the thought that he had so clearly shown a weakness to his brothers.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked before touching you; I didn’t mean to startle you.” Fred spoke slowly, looking down at his hands. Ron clenched his fists because he hated how he was starting to feel just a little less scared, how his heartbeat was slowing down back to a calmer pace, and how he felt a little less powerless. 

He hated that it was the twins of all people making him feel like this.

Because he’d wanted their love so badly once upon a time. He had yearned for their love like he yearned for Charlie’s, Bill's, or Ginny’s. Because they were family, he loved them, and he wanted them to love him, even though they scared him, laughed at him, and ridiculed him.

He hated that they were acting kind to him now when it was all he’d wanted as a young child. But they were trying now. And that wasn't insignificant. He decided to take the olive branch, no matter how much he wanted to throw it back in their faces; it wouldn’t do to get into a screaming match in the infirmary at night. There were five people sleeping, and Ron didn’t want to wake them.

He looked down at Elias, who looked so peaceful when he slept because all the lines of tension and worry were gone. “It's fine; sorry for overreacting.” He muttered, keeping his voice carefully blank.

Merlin’s balls —this was so bizarre. He’d done far too much reminiscing for one night. His thoughts felt like they were all over the place. 

He felt his brother's pitying glances burning into his neck, and he snarled. 

“I’m tired; can you two come back when the sun’s risen?” He asks, full of snark but still refusing to meet their gaze. 

He hears them both stand, and he looks up at them as they walk away without a word. He recognizes what they’re doing; they’re giving him space and respecting the boundaries that have come to light. He recognizes it for what it is; they’re both truly trying to be kinder to him. And he does appreciate the visit, no matter how scary it was.

“Good night.” He mutters to them, his voice barely louder than a whisper. By then, they were already by the door, and he didn’t know if they heard him or not. Ron laid back down, and he heard their equally quiet response. “Rest well, little brother.”

Ron didn’t go back to sleep until the sun broke through the suffocating darkness of the night.

When he wakes up, he won't be sure the whole encounter wasn't just a dream.