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Chapter Text

Ron was losing his bloody mind as Errol returned with the morning post and still no letter from Harry.

Ron threw down his spatula with a bang on the kitchen bench. "Are you serious! Mum, we have to get a new owl-"

Mum gave a deep sigh. "Ron-"

"No! This isn't right!" Ron cried while picking the spatula back up and continuing to stir scrambled eggs in a pan. "He keeps losing the mail-"

"Errol does not lose the mail, Ron-"

"Then how do you explain Harry not writing back all summer?" Ron asked while plating up the scrambled eggs with all their other breakfast foods. "I must've sent him over 100 letters and he hasn't written back once! I sent him a letter on the second day of summer to ask him if he wanted to stay and nothing!"

"Maybe," Mum started in her diplomatic voice. "He's just enjoying the time with his family. Or maybe he's having too much fun with his muggle friends and lost track of the days."

Ron shook his head, not noticing when Percy, Fred and George came thundering into the kitchen. "Harry said he hates his family, you saw how they were at the train station, they're awful!"

"Ronald-!"

"And he's told me before that Hermione and I were his first friends," He continued. "He doesn't have anyone else to spend his summer with, so why wouldn't he write back? It has to be Errol losing the mail!"

"This argument again?" George pipped up from the kitchen table.

"Harry still hasn't written back, obviously." Fred continued for George.

"No, he hasn't," Ron pointed to the twins with the spatula. "And I say, it's because Errol keeps losing his letters."

"Ron, that's ridiculous," Percy said while filling his plate with fruit and scrambled eggs. "Errol might smash into windows but he's never lost anyone's mail. Besides, he keeps bringing back the mail Mum and Dad send out so he can't be losing just Harry's letters."

Ron slumped into his own seat, next to Percy, not touching any breakfast. "Then why hasn't he sent anything back?" 

No one had an answer for Ron, Mum simply tutting and urging him to fill his plate. Ron reluctantly did, pushing his food around as the others all ate their fill. Dad came rushing into the kitchen with a, "Good morning, Weasley's!"

Everyone replied back, Ron doing so with less enthusiasm than the rest.

"What's got you so down, Ron?" Dad asked while giving his back a gentle rub.

Mum sent a look over to Dad. "He thinks Errol is losing the mail."

"Ah," Dad nodded wisely. "Still no reply from Harry then?"

Ron just shook his head no, not feeling like talking.

"Chin up, Ron," Dad tried to keep the positivity going. "I'm sure he must've gotten caught up with something, homework possibly. I'm sure you'll get a flood of letters from him in no time."

Ron just hunched in on himself, slowly nibbling on his breakfast while stewing in his worry.

Ron knew Harry didn't like his family, Ron could also take a guess that Harry's family didn't like him either. Harry didn't talk about them but just from what he'd seen this past year, they weren't good people to him. Ron felt his gut twisting and knotting itself the more he stewed.

On the 29th of July, Ron was going to try an experiment.

Harry's birthday was on the 31st of July and while Ron would usually be fine sending a letter tomorrow, he wanted to send one today. He wanted to use Hermes to deliver the letter. If the letter got there early and Ron got a reply back, then he would know Errol was the problem.

Hermes was a new owl and Percy had been using him to send out letters all summer, some to the Ministry of Magic and others to his friends. Letter in hand, Ron gave three knocks on Percy's bedroom door.

"Coming, coming!" Percy called from inside.

The door opened and there stood Percy in his trousers and button up shirt, Weasley jumper on over the top and the shirt collar peeking out from it.

Percy looked at Ron, the two almost eye level. "What can I help you with, Ron?"

Ron held out his letter. "Can Hermes deliver this to Harry, please?"

"Ron-"

"I know you've been keeping him busy," Ron interrupted. "But I need to know if Errol is just getting too old to deliver letters. It's Harry's birthday soon and I want to send this to him but I don't want it to get lost. Please, Percy?"

Percy stared at Ron with his arms crossed and Ron matched his stare, hands gripping the letter tightly.

Finally, Percy sighed and relaxed his shoulders. "Fine, you're lucky I haven't sent Hermes out yet."

Ron gave Percy a large grin as he threw his arms around him in a hug. "Thank you, thank you!"

"Yes, yes," Percy gave Ron a pat on the back. "No need to thank me yet, just give Hermes your letter and I'll send mine off with him."

Ron made sure to give Hermes some treats before he flew off, the stack of letters secured in his beak. Bouncing out of Percy's room, Ron raced outside to go join the twins for a few rounds of Quidditch and a race within the forest.

The following morning, as Ron was in the kitchen making bacon and eggs, Hermes and Errol flew into the kitchen. Errol crash landed into the table while Hermes took a comfortable position on the windowsill. Ron quickly abandoned the bacon and took the stack of letters from Hermes' beak.

One from Oliver, one from the Ministry, Cedric, Oliver, Ministry, Ministry.....

Ron's shoulders dropped as he shuffled through the small pile of letters, there was still no reply from Harry.

Now Ron was really starting to worry.

"Ronald!" Ron's head shot up in alarm quickly seeing what his Mum was shouting about.

The bacon in the pan was smoking as Ron quickly turned off the burner. "Oh, bloody hell, sorry Mum!"

"Never-!"

"Leave food unattended, I know, Mum!"

"Don't talk back to me, young man!"

Ron ignored the laughter of the twins as they raced downstairs, mind preoccupied by his swimming and turning thoughts on Harry. Hermes would never lose the mail and he bought back all the letters....so why wasn't Harry's letter there?

Ron had too much he was trying to think about and not enough room in his head to process it all, which led to the unfortunate consequence of stress baking. Ron was taught to cook by his Mum, insisting that Ron had to know how to feed himself if he wanted to eat everything she served.

Ron knew that was just flimsy reasoning, everyone in the house knew it too. Ron knew Mum would have taught her daughter how to cook but with no daughter around, Ron was the next best thing. Ron's pastries were very scrumptious but he only ever baked when he was in a bad mood.

Ron had never seen the twins turn tail outside as fast as they did then when he reached for the pastry cookbook.

Hours later, Ron had three rolls of shortbread logs resting in the fridge ready to be cut, scones were on a cooling rack and the table was filled with a mix of chocolate chip and blueberry muffins. Ron was currently whisking the batter for a sponge cake as he got it ready to pour in a pan.

Ron didn't notice how late, or early he should say, it had gotten until Dad was coming through the front door, frown on his face and a letter in his hand.

"Morning Weasley's!" Dad called to the house and received various replies from within.

Ron was still whisking his batter as he replied. "Hi Dad, you OK?"

Dad was hanging up his coat and hat, letter on the table next to the tray of chocolate chip muffins. "I'm fine, Harry not so much."

"Harry!" Ron nearly dropped his batter. "What's wrong with Harry, did he write to you! How would he know where you worked? I told him you worked at the Ministry-"

"No, no," Dad waved off Ron's questions as he grabbed a plate of leftovers from dinner. "He didn't write me a letter, he received a letter from the Ministry. One about not using magic outside of school."

"What?"

"Harry apparently used a levitating charm in full view of some muggles." Dad said while warming up his lamb stew. "Must have been a bit too excited about finally knowing magic."

Ron had finally set his batter in a cake pan and popped it in the oven to rise allowing him to think through everything. Harry wasn't answering his letters, even after promising they would write, and now he's gotten an official warning from the Ministry. Ron knew Harry's family were awful to him, the baggy clothes and how skinny Harry was at the beginning of the year were dead giveaways.

Something was very wrong and it was making Ron's gut twist and curdle.

"What's all this then, Ron?" Dad's question brought Ron back to the present as he looked out over his sea of pastries.

"Just baking, nothing much." Ron mumbled while putting away the pastry cookbook. "It's Harry's birthday tomorrow and I wanted to make him some stuff."

Dad gave him a soft smile. "Oh, good, did he finally write back?"

Ron shook his head. "No, he hasn't, I just.....wanted to be ready in case he did."

"Ah, well, perhaps you can send it to him in a letter."

"The letters aren't working Dad," Ron sat at the table, eyes downcast as he sat with his father while he ate. "Nothing I've tried is working....I Just want to see my friend."

Dad had nothing to say to that, instead he took to gently rubbing Ron's back to comfort him.

"Perhaps," Dad said while taking his plate to the sink. "I can take you to visit him when I get a day off."

Ron's head whipped up to face his Dad. "Really?"

His Dad gave Ron a kind smile, getting up from the table and wandering into the living room. "Of course, where did you say he lived?"

"Out in Surrey, at Privet Drive."

Dad moved back to the kitchen table and bought out a map, using a spell to locate where Harry was. "Boy, that's quite a trek."

The distance they would have to travel would take a few hours, maybe half a day. They could apparate, of course, but they would have to be careful. There weren't all that many wizard dwellings near where Harry lived.

Dad had that look on his face, the one he got when he was worried but didn't know what to say. "Give it the rest of the week, Ron-"

"The rest of the week-!"

"If Harry still hasn't replied, you, Mum and I can take a trip down and pick him up. Bring him back for the last little bit of the holidays before you boys head back to Hogwarts."

Ron let his head fall dejectedly into his hands. "I suppose."

There was a pregnant pause before Dad's hand was back to gently rubbing his back and shoulders.

"It's a shame, that he didn't reply," Dad started, tone slow and deliberate. "I would have loved to ask his opinion on all things muggle related. I could have shown him the shed too.....perhaps I can pick him up in Angelina. Let Harry fly through the clouds for a bit."

Ron tilted his head at his Dad. "But...you're not meant to use Angelina to fly."

Dad nodded his head very slowly. "Right you are, Ron. I'm not allowed to use Angelina...and neither are you I might add, much too young to drive, you are. Someone a bit older would have been able to drive you around - not me, of course. Driving only, can't be using that flying mechanism I installed."

"Right," Ron nodded slowly. "Of course."

With a hearty pat to the back and a gentle push up the stairs, Dad sent Ron up and off to bed, he'd stayed awake all night baking. When Ron reached the attic, the ghoul howling away above him, sleep would not come to Ron at all.

Not that Ron intended to sleep, of course. There was too much to do and too much to plan....is this what it was like for the twins? Awful...but somewhat liberating.

Dad was never subtle with his hints, the man had a shed full of muggle things and loved to tinker with them every chance he got. His prized possession was an old rusted car, turquoise and named Angelina. Dad had enchanted the car to fly and it was one of his favourite things.

Dad was obviously hinting that Ron use the prized car so Ron was going to use the bloody prized car, he just had to get to it.

Not hard really, Dad worked nights and Mum went to bed at a reasonable hour. All Ron would need to do is walk to the shed and take the car. The main problem was Ron had no idea how to work the car, let alone fly the damn thing.

But there was someone who did know or someone’s he should say.

Ron threw off the covers on his bed, raced down the stairs and barged into Fred and George's room.

"Oi!" Fred yelled while Ron slammed the door shut. "You're not allowed in here!"

"You don't see us just barging into your room, do you?" George accused while pointing at Ron.

Ron hissed at them. "Shut up, yes you do, you both do it all the time....what's with the toilet seat? Is that from Hogwarts?"

The twins turned back to their work bench, a notebook was open on the table with a toilet seat half taken apart. A cauldron was bubbling away and a few sets of potion ingredients were sitting in containers, there was even a frog croaking in a cage.

Ron pointed to them with a raised eyebrow. "What in the world are you two doing?"

"None of your business," Fred pointed back to Ron. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking of a way to rescue Harry."

"Rescue him?"

"From what?" George finished Fred's thought.

"From his family, of course. Not even Hermes was able to return a letter from Harry, something's going on and I'm going to find out what, but I need your help - both of you." Ron watched on, biting his lip as the twins eyed each other and tilted their heads once or twice.

Silent conversations were beyond nerve wracking, especially when it came to asking the twins for help. The twins nodded once to each other, George nodding his head to one of their beds.

"Ok, Ronnikins," Fred placed his fingertips together and leant back in his chair. "We'll help-"

"But it'll cost you." George mimicked Fred's pose.

"Two rolls of the shortbread you've been making-"

"And half the sponge cake you've got sitting in the fridge."

"You can't have the cake, that's for Harry's birthday." Ron refused. "But, I've got some cinnamon scones hidden from Mum; you can have half a dozen of those."

The twins didn't have to mull it over for longer than half a second before shouting, "Done!"

With a firm handshake between the three of them, the deal was sealed.

Fred clapped his hands together. "Right, if we're going to rescue Harry, we'll need a plan."

"Give us 30 minutes and we'll have something-"

"No need," Ron held up a hand and cut George off. "I've already got one. Harry lives a few hours away. If we take Angelina, flying of course, we should have enough time to pick up Harry and be back before Mum knows we've been gone."

The twins sat there, blinking at Ron as if he'd grown a second head.

"Well?" Ron apprehensively asked. "Is that....OK?”

George turned to Fred, thumb pointed at Ron. "When did he become so devious?"

"Not sure, Forge. We must be stronger influences than we realized." Fred turned back to Ron with a devilish smile and ruffled his hair. "Stealing Dad's car? We're impressed, ickle Ronnikins is growing up!"

"Sod off." Ron flicked Fred's hand out of his hair. "We leave tonight, be ready, got it?"

Both the twins saluted him. "Rodger dodger, Ronnikins!"

"And stop calling me that!"

That day, Ron busied himself by making and icing Harry's cake, red and yellow for Gryffindor and even a little lion head made of icing for decoration. Ron asked Mum to charm it to keep thieving hands away from the cake before he could "send it to Harry."

The anxious energy still needed an outlet, the anticipation for tonight overwhelming, so Ron dashed outside with a quick yell about borrowing a broom. That set off a roar of thundering footsteps as the twins made a mad dash outside to join in an impromptu game of Quidditch. Percy bringing out one of the extra brooms so he could play referee.

That game at least had him tired enough to pass out on the couch in a post-Quidditch nap. Cozied up by the fire with Mum's enchanted knitting needles as background noise.

Ron was roused from his sleep by Dad gently scratching his scalp and giving a hasty goodbye, bustling out the front door and off to work. With a stretch and a yawn, Ron made his way to the kitchen and plopped into a seat beside Percy.

"Sorry I didn't-" Ron's face split into a yawn. "Didn't help with dinner, Mum."

Mum gave him a kind and somewhat scolding smile. "That's alright, dear. Eat your fill then off to bed, I reckon all that worrying has eaten into your sleep."

Sheepishly rubbing his neck, ears turning red, Ron loaded up his plate with some pie, gravy and a few veggies on the side. The usual warm  conversations were had and the usual angry complaints were made about the gnomes. Together, dinner was cleared and plates were scrubbed with the pots and pans being left for magic to clean.

Ushered up the stairs, with kisses to their foreheads, all the boys went to their own rooms and left Mum to her own quiet time in the lounge room. Ron took to methodically sorting through his Witches and Wizard cards. Some part of him missed the squeaking rat that used to fill his room but that was quickly shut down with a shudder.

That man was locked up in Azkaban, as far away from Ron and his family as he could possibly be, yet the thought of him still turned his stomach.

Tick, tick, tick the hours moved by so sluggishly it felt like it would never end. Ron was already dressed and ready to go just waiting for-

Creeeeak

Ron whipped his head to his door where George was hastily waving him over. It took every fiber in Ron's being not to sprint over to his older brother.

'Quiet.' George mouthed to him, a finger over his lips as Ron shuffled past him and into the winding staircase. Fred was pressed up against the wall, peering into the darkness with only the moonlight to guide him. Careful to avoid the creaky stairs, the trio made their way down, down, down and out the front door.

Running across the yard, George attempted to open the shed door quietly but there was still a scraping screech as the tin door was opened. And there, inside the shed, was their salvation decked out in rusted blue paint.

Angelina.

"Get in." George quietly pushed Ron towards the back passenger door while Fred raced to the driver door, keys jangling in his hand.

Once in, Fred twisted the key in the ignition which spluttered and coughed before giving a harsh rumble of life. Giving a quiet cheer, Fred twisted in his seat and reversed Angelina out of the shed where George closed the doors once fully out. George joined them in the car, buckling up and pulling out a map as Fred kept the lights off and engaged the flying gear.

Once in the air, high above the Burrow and soaring through the clouds, Fred flicked on the headlights. "Right, where are we going?"

"Here." Ron leaned over the center console and pointed to Privet Drive. His house is number 4."

"Bloody hell, that's a flight and a half. Better strap in Fred, glad you were the one who wanted to drive." George lightly punched Fred's shoulder who scowled and slapped George's shoulder.

"Shut up, let's just hope Angelina can last the whole trip."

Ron barely remembered the flight, the darkness, the arguing, the rattling of the rusted car as Fred tried to keep her steady. What he does remember is the pure relief that washed over him when the car started lowering into an area with rows of houses that all looked the same.

"Which one was it, Ron?"

"4 Privet Drive." Ron answered George while staring out the window with bounding enthusiasm.

There was more arguing, (Put the invisibility cloak on! Stop hounding me! Do all the houses have to look the same?) Before the trio were pulling up alongside a house that looked like all the others.

The only differences were the boy sleeping restlessly in a bed with bars over his window.

"Merlin's beard, they put bars on his windows?"

Ron barely spared a glance at Fred as he focused on Harry through the window. "Told you they treated him horribly. Now get me in closer, I'll have to tap on the window through the bars."

Doing as asked, Fred parked the car as close as possible so Ron could knock on the glass. Harry began to stir from the repetitive noise and Ron didn't stop until he saw the gobsmacked look on his friend's face.

Rushing over to open the window, Harry looked beyond ecstatic to see them. "Ron!"

Ron gave his own wide smile back at his best friend. "Hey, Harry."

"Alright, Harry?" The twins asked from the front of the car.

"What's been going on?" Ron couldn't help but ask. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've been asking you to stay over all summer then Dad comes home and says you've got an official warning from the Ministry for using magic-"

"It wasn't me - And how did he know?"

"He works for the Ministry, remember? And you know we're not supposed to use spells outside of Hogwarts-"

"Bit rich coming from you." Harry had a bewildered smile as he pointed to Angelina.

"Oh, this doesn't count. We're only borrowing this, we didn't enchant it-"

" Ron, Harry!" Both boys turned to look at Fred in the front seat. "Happy you two have been reunited and all but come on! We've gotta go!"

"Right, sorry." Harry turned back to Ron. "Look, can you explain to Hogwarts that the Dursley's have me locked up and I won't be able to come back? I obviously can't magic myself out-"

Ron held up his hand to stop Harry's speed rambling. "What are you talking about, mate?"

Harry looked at him like he was an idiot. "Hogwarts. The Dursley's won't let me come back so I'll need someone from the Ministry-"

"Stop talking gibberish." Ron interrupted. "We're taking you home with us."

Harry looked apprehensively excited. "But - the bars, you can't use magic either."

Ron gave a snort. "We don't need to. You forget who I've got with me."

"I'm dead if the Dursley's hear anything." Harry nervously called.

"Then we'll make sure to be as quiet as possible." Ron gave his friend a smile.

"Here," George passed a thick rope with a metal hook to Ron. "Hook that on the bars."

Doing as told, Ron made sure it was secure before giving Fred a thumbs up. The engine revved louder and louder, a small cracking noise slowly coming from the bars.

BANG!

Catching himself before he hit the back of the passenger seat, Ron watched as the bars cracked away from the window. Ron caught the rope before it smacked to the ground. Hauling with all his might, Ron hefted the bars into the car and detached the hook, throwing it to the floor.

Fred reverses back to the window as close as he could get, Ron opening the door and holding his hand out to Harry. "Come on, get in."

"I can't. All my Hogwarts stuff - my wand, my broomstick-" Harry nervously looked to his door.

"Where is it?"

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs but I can't get out of this room-"

"No problem." George called from the front seat, Ron already moving as both he and Fred climbed into the back. "Out of the way, Harry."

The twins carefully climbed into the room, Ron holding out a hand just in case but they both made it in safe. George grabbed an ordinary hairpin from his pocket and began to pick the lock.

"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of muggle trick." Fred spoke quietly from beside George's shoulder. "But we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they're a bit slow."

There was a small click and George pocketed the hairpin while quietly swinging the door open.

"So - We'll grab your trunk - You grab anything else from your room and hand it out to Ron." George whispered.

Harry warned them about a creaky stair before the twins disappeared into the dark house. Ron and Harry worked together to gather up anything he'd need or want and piled it into Angelina, even managing to open the boot and load it up. With the room cleared, Harry raced downstairs to help Fred and George with his trunk.

The three reappeared from the darkness, heaving Harry's trunk through the door and into the room. Fred quietly dropped his end and leapt back into the car with Ron as the trunk was balanced on the windowsill. Fred and Ron pulled while Harry and George shoved, both teams working together to get the heavy abomination into the car.

With an almighty heave the trunk fell into the car, making the poor vehicle wobble under the weight.

"Alright, let's go!" Fred harshly whispered while climbing into the driver's seat again.

George climbed into the front passenger seat but as Harry was climbing into the back with Ron, there came an almighty shriek followed immediately by a thundering voice. "THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig!"

Racing back across the room, Harry snatched Hedwig's cage and bolted for the window where Ron took the cage as gently and quickly as he could. Harry scrambled up onto the windowsill, Ron reaching for him, as the door to Harry's room was pounded in by a huge, lumbering man.

This must have been the Uncle Vernon that Harry had talked about and bloody hell, was he a monster.

Large and heavy with his hands balled into fists, his plump face red as a ripe cherry and looking like there was steam billowing from his ears. If looks could kill, Harry, Ron, Fred and George would be dead ten times over.

With an almighty yell, Vernon lunged for Harry and grabbed his ankle as Ron latched onto his arm. Ron would have been pulled from the car if it wasn't for Fred and George lunging for him and Harry.

"Petunia!" Vernon screamed and Ron swore his ears bled. "He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

Harry tried kicking at Vernon's hand while Ron, Fred and George gave an almighty pull. From the door, two more figures appeared and gave a frightened yelp. A frightfully tall lady whose face was as pointed as an old witch's nose and a portly boy who looked exactly like Vernon.

They must be Petunia and Dudley then, Harry's aunt and cousin.

"Let go of Harry!" With another giant pull from Ron, Harry's ankle slipped out of Vernon's grasp and he was left balancing by his belly on the windowsill.

Harry, once in Angelina, slammed the door shut while Ron shouted for Fred to "Floor it!" Fred did so and Vernon, who was hanging on to the car, slipped and fell out the window and landed on a bush below. Petunia and Dudley, screaming, raced towards the open window, checking on Vernon, before all three stared up at them in the car.

Harry wound down the window, grinning ear to ear as he called out to them, "See you next summer!"

Ron and his brother's roared laughing. Just for good measure, Ron opened the other door and pushed the bars out and into their garden. Another roar of laughter erupted in the car.

When Ron was able to calm down he lunged for Harry, bringing his friend into a fierce hug and wrinkling his shirt. Harry reciprocated the hug just as fiercely.

When the two pulled away, Harry gestured to Hedwig's cage. "Let Hedwig out, she can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages."

Winding down the window and opening the cage door, poor Hedwig zoomed outside like she'd been starved of it. Like a ghost, she silently and swiftly followed them on their flight path back home.

"So - what's the story, Harry," Ron asked while closing the cage again. "What's been happening? Why haven't you been returning my letters?"

"This one's been going mental with worry." George pipped up from the front, pointing a thumb in Ron's direction.

Fred continued the thought. "Been having spats everyday with Mum, asking if we can come see you because you weren't returning his letters. He even became convinced Errol was losing the mail."

"It's not that far-fetched!" Ron defended himself, feeling his ears and cheeks heat up. "Errol's old and smashes into everything. He could have been losing the letters - oof!"

Ron was caught off guard by the hug that Harry tackled him into, the other boy seemed to be shaking in his seat.

"You really wrote to me that much? And worried for me?" Harry's voice suspiciously wavered and Ron hugged his friend tighter.

"Of course. You told me how rubbish those relatives of yours are and, having seen them, I completely agree with you. I sent a letter on the first day of summer asking if you wanted to stay with us."

The two friends stayed hugging for a moment longer before Ron pulled back and demanded to know why he wasn't receiving the letters.

And boy was that a doozy of a story.

A house-elf hiding the letters, a warning of great danger, more trouble on the horizon and the fiasco with the violet pudding. The car was stunned into silence when Harry had finished.

"Very fishy." Fred finally broke the silence.

"Definitely dodgy." George agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't know he could." Harry answered. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."

Ron met George and Fred's eyes through the rear view mirror as the twins looked to each other as well.

Harry didn't miss the glances between them either. "What, you think he was lying to me?"

"Well, put it this way-" Fred piped up from the front. "House-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you from coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

Was that even a question?

"Draco Malfoy." Ron and Harry answered together.

"He hates me." Harry threw his hands up in the air, pouting as he did.

"Draco Malfoy?" George spun around to face Ron and Harry in the back. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

Ron gave a nod. "That's the one."

"He's that bloke Dad's been going on about. He was a big supporter of You Know Who."

"And when You Know Who disappeared," Fred continued for George. "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in You Know Who's inner circle."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Ron mumbled to himself.

"I don't know if the Malfoy's own a house-elf...." Harry voiced to the group.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old, wizarding family and they'll be rich." Fred said while leaning over George to check the map.

"Yeah, Mum used to want a house-elf before Ron started helping around the house. Now with him at Hogwarts, she's started wishing for it again - you've gotta head more North, Fred." George said while holding up the map for Fred.

"All we've got at home is the ghoul in the attic - He's above my room," Ron said to Harry, keeping an eye out for Hedwig. "And the gnomes in the garden. House-elves come with big mansions and old castles, you'd never catch one in our house."

A calm silence filled the car, occasionally broken by a call from Hedwig or a correction on directions from George.

Ron hugged Harry again, throwing his arm around his best friend's shoulder. "I'm glad we came and got you."

"I'm glad you came and got me too." Harry gave Ron a grateful smile. "But, does your Dad know you've got the car?"

"No." Fred and George answered together.

"Well...kinda." Ron gave a sheepish smile as Fred, George and Harry whipped their heads to look at him.

"Ron, what do you mean kinda?" George cautiously asked.

Ron could feel his ears turning red again. "It was sort of Dad's suggestion? Well, in his own way he kinda hinted that I should take Angelina and come pick up Harry. He said I couldn't drive but, very poorly, hinted that someone else could drive."

There was another stunned silence in the car before a cheshire grin spread over George's face. "Who knew Dad was the scheming type?"

"Are you kidding?" Fred laughed. "With Angelina and the shed at home? It's no wonder he was the cause of this rescue mission."

"What's your shed got anything to do with this or your Dad?" Harry questioned with a tilt of his head.

"Remember how I told you that dad works for the Ministry last year?" Harry nodded, yes. "Right, well, Dad works for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. It's just him and one other bloke so they're constantly swamped - One time, this old witch's tea set got sold to an antique shop and a muggle bought it. Tried serving tea with it and wound up in hospital after the tea scalded them."

"Dad was working overtime for weeks after that affair." Fred piped up while banking left a bit.

"Right, but Dad loves muggle things." Ron turned back to Harry. "So, at home, he keeps all his muggle things in our shed and is constantly tinkering with them, enchanting them, like Angelia-"

"Angelina?" Harry asked.

"This car." Ron answered. "If Dad had to raid our house, he'd have to put himself straight under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

"There's the main road," George pointed out, interrupting Ron. "We'll be there in ten minutes...just as well, it's getting light out."

The sunrise was beautiful from up in the air, the first golden rays of morning light starting to peak over the horizon and shine on the fields.

"We're a little way's outside of the village," George pointed to the tiny village near their home. "Ottery St Catchpole."

The clouds had passed and the sunlight provided a clear view of the chickens and pigs roaming around outside. Lower and lower Angelina went until she landed on the ground with a squeaky thump.

"Wooo!" Fred cried, continuing to drive the car towards the still closed garden shed.

George hopped out and opened the shed doors, ushering them in frantically as the sun continued to rise. Promising to come back for Harry's things later, the boys made their way towards the front door. Quietly, Fred unmatched the front door and ushered everyone inside, Harry, Ron and George bringing up the rear.

Harry looked around in awe, eyes trailing everywhere but Ron was looking for any sign that Mum was up and about. The knitting needles were taping away and the scrubber was scrubbing a pan in the sink but no Mum.

"Oi, Ron," Ron turned back to Fred who was holding up one of his hot cross buns from the basket on the table. "Can we have one?"

"Yeah," Ron whispered back. "I made them to be eaten. Pass me two please, I'll give one to Harry."

Fred passed him two and Ron passed one bun over to Harry who's shoulders slumped when he took a bite. "This is delicious, did your Mum make them?"

Ron's face turned bright red and as he went to sheepishly admit he had baked them, a horrible shriek interrupted him. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!"

Ron froze, quickly hiding the bun behind his back, as Mum came storming into the lounge room from the stairs. She'd obviously been up for a while, already in her flower apron and dressed for the day ahead.

By the way she was glaring at Ron, Fred and George, Ron could guess they might not live to see the end of the day.

"So?" Mum had her hands on her hips, glaring daggers at the three of them.

"Morning Mum!" If Ron could slap George he would, what kind of a response is that!

Especially to the fury that Mum was radiating.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" Ron's shoulders bunched up to his ears at her deadly whisper. "No note, car gone, beds empty! You could have died! You could have been seen! You could have lost your father his job!"

"We had to mum," Ron managed to, barely, steel his nerves against mum's cold fury. "They were starving him. They put bars on his windows."

"You best hope I don't put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley!" Ron took a step back and bumped into Fred.

Looking up at his brother, Fred offered no help as he just grimaced. They were all in deep shit for this.

"Harry," Even though Mum had a kind smile on her face, Ron still noticed the small step back he took. "It's lovely to have you here, dear. I don't blame you for any of this."

Her glare was back and bore into Ron's soul.

"Into the kitchen with me, Ron. We have breakfast to serve. You two," Mum pointed to Fred and George. "Go make sure Percy is up for breakfast and no lollygagging! Harry, dear, feel free to have a seat while breakfast is made."

"Umm, would it be ok if I look around?" Harry hesitantly questioned while Ron raced into the kitchen to grab his, hand made, Chuddly Canon's apron.

"Oh, of course, dear. Fred!" The older boy paused on the flight of stairs. "Go help Harry bring his things in and up to Ron's room. Leave anything heavy, I'll magic it up after breakfast."

"Got it, Mum. Come on, Harry. Ron sleeps below the attic so we've got a lot of climbing to do."

While Fred and Harry moved Harry's things into Ron's room and George made sure Percy was up, Ron worked with Mum to get breakfast ready. It was a bit rushed, just simple foods as Ron didn't have the prep time he would usually have.

Not to mention he was keeping an eye on their guest their guest who, by the way Mum was doting on him, would probably become the next Weasley son.

Ron was just plating up the last of the eggs and sausages as everyone ambled into the kitchen and took their seats. Ron quickly threw off his apron and took a seat beside Harry, putting him in between himself and George.

Quick as pixies, Ron and his brother's snatched up the food they wanted and filled their plates. Noticing Harry's plate had a measly scoop of eggs, Ron swiftly swapped his full plate for Harry's near empty one.

Harry's eyes went wide. "Ron-!"

"There's plenty to go around." Ron ignored his friends' protests as he filled his new plate with toast and sausages. "Eat your fill and then some."

Breakfast was great, not because the food was good and definitely not because Mum was chewing their ear off but because Harry was here. It was the first time in a month that Ron didn't have to worry about his best friend, asking himself if he was eating or feeling OK.

Harry was here, in the Burrow and being fussed over by Mum like he was one of her own sons. For the first time in a month, Ron felt like he could breathe.

"Blimey I'm tired." Fred yawned, setting down his cutlery and stretching his arms above his head. "I think I'll go to bed and-"

"You will not." Mum was quick to snap. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me, they're getting completely out of hand again."

"Oh, Mum-"

"And you two, you'll be helping as well." Mum was pointing over to George and Ron. "You can go up to bed, dear." Mum spoke sweetly to Harry. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car."

"I'll help Ron, I've never seen a de-gnoming." Harry seemed almost giddy. 

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work." Mum said as she moved over to the bookshelf while Ron gathered the breakfast plates to wash up.

As Ron went to pick up the first plate, he was stopped by another hand shooting out and grabbing the plate first. Percy had gathered the other plates, giving a smile to Ron as he gathered the rest and put them in the sink.

"Now, let's see what Lockheart's got to say on the subject." Ron turned back to Mum as she pulled out an all too familiar, thick book with a blond, winking wizard on the front.

George groaned. "Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden."

But nothing could stop Mum from pulling out that thick book, Gilderoy Lockheart's Guide to Household Pests, and smiling down at the picture on the cover. Gilderoy could be considered handsome, with his blond wavy hair and blue eyes but, to Ron, he looked obnoxious. Not to mention Mum referred to his books for everything no matter how mundane the task.

"Oh he is marvellous." Ron subtly rolled his eyes while gagging, jokingly, to Percy who gave his own cheeky smile. "He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book..."

"Mum fancies him." Fred, very audibly, whispered to Harry.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fred." Mum snapped, her pink cheeks standing out like a ripe tomato. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockheart, you can go and get on with it. And woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come to inspect it."

Ron let out a face cracking yawn as he followed Fred and George outside to the garden, noticing that Harry was following along as well. The frogs croaked from the nearby pond and more of Mum's plants had run amok from their pots. No doubt she would be re-potting them sometime soon.

"Muggles have garden gnomes too, you know." Harry told Ron while jogging to keep up.

"Yeah, I've seen those things they call gnomes." Ron made his way over to a peony bush where he spied little feet sticking out. "Like fat little father Christmases with fishing poles."

Ron held a hand up to Harry to keep him back as he dove into the peony bush and grabbed the gnome. The little pest wiggled and squirmed as Ron shifted his grip to its ankles before it could bite him.

"This is a gnome." Ron held up the little, bald potato-head looking man for Harry to see.

The little gnome was shouting at Ron all the way up to the garden wall where Fred and George were already waiting with their own. "And this is what we do with them."

Ron twirled the gnome above his head like a lasso and aimed at the stump over the garden wall. Harry's face looked horrified so Ron was quick to add, "It doesn't hurt them! You've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnome holes."

Ron let go of the gnome's ankles and the little pest went flying, coming down with a thunk and landing on its head. The little bugger didn't make it to the stump, blast.

"Pitiful," Fred tutted. "I bet I can get mine beyond the stump."

Ron rolled his eyes and took immense satisfaction when Fred's gnome landed nowhere close to the stump.

The morning continued like that, Fred George, Ron and even Harry seeing how far the gnomes could fly. Harry managed to get one well past the stump which caused a great uproar and applause. Soon enough, the little gnomes were all tossed over the wall and staggering back into the hedges on the other side, shoulders slumped as they ambled away.

"They'll be back." Ron told Harry as they watched them go. "They love it here. Dad's too soft, thinks they're funny-"

SLAM!

The four boys startled as Percy came rushing out the door, grinning ear to ear and waving to them. "Dad's home!"

Ron was off like the golden snitch, racing past his brother's and bee-lining for the house. Racing past Percy, Ron gave a joyful shout, "Dad!"

Slumped at the table, glasses off and long, green robes dusty, Dad gave Ron, everyone, a happy smile. "Morning Weasley's!"

"Morning!" Everyone but Harry chorused back.

"What a night. Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned." Ron poured Dad some tea which was greedily drunk and thanked for.

"Find anything, Dad?" Fred eagerly asked as Harry took a seat next to Ron.

"All I got were a few shrinking door-keys and a biting kettle." Dad let out a big yawn and reached for his tea again. "There was some pretty nasty stuff, that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely old ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness-"

"Why would anyone bother making door-keys shrink?" George questioned.

"Just Muggle-Baiting," Dad sighed. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it. Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking - they'll insist they just keep losing it, bless them. They'll go to any lengths to ignore magic even if it's staring them right in the face. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe-"

"LIKE CARS FOR INSTANCE?"

Mum appeared from the lounge room, hands on her hips and glaring daggers at Dad who looked up at her, guilty. "C-cars, Molly, dear?"

"Yes, Arthur, cars." Ron found the table cloth very interesting all of a sudden, did Mum replace it recently? "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really, he was enchanting it to make it fly."

"Well, dear," Dad sat up a bit straighter in his seat. "I think you'll find he was quite within the law to do that, even if, er, he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth - there's a loophole in the law, you'll find," Mum's glare was getting worse the longer Dad spoke. "As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't-" 

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" Mum shouted at Dad. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Harry?" Dad asked with a tilt to his head before looking around and startling when he spotted him.

"Good Lord, good to see you again, Harry." Dad beamed at him. " Been keeping well? Ron's been awfully worried-"

"Your sons flew that enchanted car to Surrey and back last night!" Mum shouted to Dad while pointing to Fred, George and Ron. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really?" Dad's face split into a large grin. "How did it go?"

There was a small cacophony of voices as Ron, Fred and George spoke at once. A swift and firm slap to Dad's arm had him straightening up and the overlapping voices stopped. "I mean, that was very wrong boys - very wrong, indeed..."

Mum was back at it, as Dad happily and heartily indulged her.

Ron rolled his eyes and nudged Harry. "Come on, let's leave them to it."

Leading Harry up the winding stairs, Ron opened the door to his room and took note of Harry's things already packed into one corner.

"You can take my bed, mate. I think we've got a spare mattress around somewhere-"

"Absolutely not!" Harry looked mortified. "That's your bed, I can take the mattress-"

"No way." Ron put his hands on his hips. "You're our guest and my best friend, I'm not letting you sleep on a mattress. You take the bed, I'll sleep on the mattress-"

There came a single knock on Ron's door frame. "Ron."

Turning to the door, Percy stood there, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "I can hear you from my room, what's going on?"

"I want Harry to take my bed, cause he's a guest, and I'll take a mattress but he's insisting I have the bed and he has the mattress."

"I'm fine sleeping on the floor-" Harry insisted.

"But you shouldn't have to! I'm happy to sleep on the mattress, you're the guest-"

"Boys!" Both Ron and Harry startled and turned to Percy. "Mum can just transfigure another bed and mattress." 

There was silence from the other two boys.

Ron pointed to Percy. "I didn't think of that."

The eye roll from Percy was justified, along with the sheepish laughter from Harry. Mum was brought up and two old books were transfigured into a second bed and mattress, which Harry claimed. With help from Dad, Harry's trunk was floated up and placed on the end of the bed as well, ready to be used should it be needed.

Hedwig's cage was set up and the happy owl was resting comfortably in the cage after flying circles around the house all morning. She'd tried pecking at the fog spawn in Ron's fish tank but was quickly stopped from doing so.

"I found them in the pond and wanted to see what would happen." Ron explained to Harry while petting Hedwig's fluffy head. "They've grown a bit but not by much. I reckon Fred and George are gonna steal them when they turn into frogs."

The afternoon flew by until it was dinner time where Mum let Ron off the hook for cooking dinner considering Harry was over. Dad hadn't been called into work so he was finally enjoying a family meal with everyone. The only people missing were Bill and Charlie.

As Ron finished dinner, and everyone else was starting to finish too, Mum gave Ron a nudge with her foot under the table and nodded to the fridge.

Right!

"I'll be right back." Jumping up, Ron jogged over to the small fridge and opened it up, pleased to see the cake still in one piece.

Carefully pulling out the cake, Ron carefully placed the 1 and 2 candles on it to make 12 right above the icing that said 'HAPPY'. Ron watched as Mum quickly picked up Harry's finished plate, which he protested he could put away before she made him sit back down.

Carefully balancing the cake in his hands Ron made his way over to Harry. Mum started singing, flicking her wand to light the two candles as everyone joined in on the song.

"Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday, dear, Harry.

Happy birthday to you."

The cake was placed in front of a gobsmacked Harry who looked like his very world had been shaken.

"You," Harry's voice was shaking ever so slightly. "You know my birthday? But, I never told you my birthday?"

"Sure you did, back in Hogwarts. I remembered and wrote it down so I wouldn't forget it this year." Ron easily waved away how anxious he'd been at remembering Harry's birthday.

"Yeah, then Ron told all of us-" Fred started.

"Told is putting it lightly, he was fretting the whole holiday about having something ready." George interrupted.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Then went into a baking frenzy and made that cake for you, Harry."

"Ron did the icing and everything." Percy helpfully added on.

Ron could feel how red his face was. "Shut up! I did not fret and I did not go into a frenzy! I was just worried, that's all."

"Ron, did - did you make this cake?" Ron gave a sheepish nod.

"For me?"

"Well who else would it be for, Harry?" Ron closed his eyes, face still flaming red. "It's got your name and everythin - oof!"

Ron had to catch himself as Harry jumped up and gave him in a fierce hug, gripping onto his worn shirt so tight he might have never let go. Ron hugged back just as fiercely.

"Thanks Ron." Harry whispered.

"Of course, mate. Can't not celebrate your birthday. Now come on," Ron spun Harry around grinning madly. "Blow out your candles and make a wish."

With a single blow, the candles were extinguished and a round of applause and cheers broke out. Mum handed out more plates and forks, helping Harry cut the cake so everyone could have a slice.

Ron was very pleased to hear the satisfied hums of a cake well made and enjoyed.

"Did you really make this, Ron?" Harry asked around a cheekful of cake.

Ron could feel his ears heating up again. "Umm, yeah-"

"He's also the one who cooked most of breakfast." Percy, once again, helpfully tacked on.

"Your cooking is amazing and this cake is to die for!" The pure sincerity in Harry's voice had Ron hiding his scalding red face in his hands getting a laugh from everyone.

All in all, it was an amazing day together and Ron was eagerly anticipating the rest of summer.

Chapter Text

Summer continued on and Ron could confidently say that Harry fit in with their family like a pea in a pod. He was so genuinely curious about everything going on in the Burrow and never once got annoyed. Sure, the ghoul might drop pipes and the twins were setting off explosions at least twice a day but Harry looked happy.

Happier than he'd looked behind that barred window, that's for sure.

But, good things can't last forever and the end of summer was quickly approaching meaning school would be starting up soon. Ron had no doubt in his mind that school letters would be sent soon. He had no doubt because Percy kept ranting and raving about it, wanting to see what would be needed for the next school year.

With the reminder of school, the events of last year had been playing back and forth in Ron's mind over and over. Not so much the troll fighting or rats, but the people he'd met from there. Two specific people who had caught his mind like a trap so much so that before Ron knew it, he had written a letter (with permission from Mum) and was giving it to Errol.

One plan out of the way and now he just needed to wait for a response which came the following morning with the rest of the mail at breakfast. Quickly skimming over the letter, Ron smiled and gave Mum's sleeve a light tug. Attention gained, Ron handed over the letter to her which she proceeded to quickly read through, a small smile broke out on her face too.

Giving a subtle nod, Mum pocketed the letter and resumed her lively chatter with Percy about what he expected next year to be like.

The days continued on, games of Quidditch were had with Mum and Dad coming to watch Harry's prowess on his Nimbus 2000. More gnomes needed de-gnoming, crawling plants needed repotting and on one memorable occasion, Ron and Harry turned into mud balls.

Not literal mud balls, mind you, but metaphorical ones. The two of them had wandered off into the nearby forest to explore the old, worn paths and the two had slipped on a log crossing. The creek they fell into wasn't deep by any means but the mud had clung to them like a bad rash.

Safe to say, Mum had blown a fuse at how messy they had gotten while all the boys in the house could only laugh.

It was a great summer, but all good things must come to an end and that end came when Percy accidentally sat on Errol at breakfast.

"Errol!" Ron quickly ran over and took the decrepit bird from Percy, spotting a letter under his wing and snatching it up. "Finally - He's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her to say we were rescuing you from the Dursley's....and he's got our Hogwarts letters."

Setting the letters on the table, Ron tried to carefully balance Errol on his perch at the windowsill. Holding his hands out, Ron watched as Errol wobbled in place before falling still, allowing Ron to pull his hands back. As soon as the safety was gone, Errol flopped straight off and Ron quickly ducked to catch him.

Giving up, Ron dumped Errol on the draining board with an eye roll and made his way back to his seat at the table. "Pathetic."

Harry was already reading through his Hogwarts letter so Ron followed suit and ripped open his own yellowish parchment with green ink. There was the same dribble about catching the Hogwarts Express from Kings Cross and below that was the school books.

Second Year students will require:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Mirranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wandering with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

"You've been told to get all of Lockhart's books too!" Ron looked over to see Fred peering over Harry's shoulder to read his letter. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch."

Fred happened to lock eyes with Mum’s glare and very quickly busied himself with the marmalade on the table. Yeah, hell hath to fury like Mum when she's mad.

"This lot won't come cheap." George said, quickly glancing over to Mum and Dad. "Lockhart's books are really expensive...."

"We'll manage." But Ron, everyone , could spot Mum's look of worry from a mile away as she scanned the list over Ron's shoulder.

Choosing not to focus on his family's financial issues, Ron tugged on Harry's pajama top and pointed to Hermione's letter. Harry gave a nod and Ron wasted no time in ripping open the letter and reading it with Harry.

Dear Ron, and Harry if you're there,

I hope everything went alright and that Harry is ok and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble too. I've been really worried and if Harry is alright, will you let me know at once, but, perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl. I think another delivery would finish your one off.

I'm very busy with school work, of course, and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know what's happening as soon as you can.

Love from, Hermione.

Next Wednesday? Well, that would be perfect for what Ron had been planning anyway and Mum was in full agreement.

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too." Mum said as she cleared the table, shooing away Harry's attempts to help.

With the table cleared and everything packed away, all the boys had been shooed out of the house with vague instructions to burn off their energy. Easy enough to do as they all, once again, raced for the broom shed with Percy following at a more subdued pace. Together, they made their way to the paddock on the top of the hill of their home.

The group had slowed down a bit so they could keep pace with Percy who had his nose in one of Bill's old school books.

"What are you reading, Percy?" Harry innocently asked.

Oh, the poor soul.

"It's one of Bill's previous books with his notes from his Sixth year." Percy explained as he lifted his head from the notes. "I just got my O.W.Ls back - 12, if you don't mind my saying-"

"We do." George whispered with a giggle which was quickly smacked away when Percy gave him a thwack with the notebook.

Ignoring George's indignant shout and Fred's boisterous laughter, Percy continued. "As I was saying, I want to be prepared for next year."

Harry tilted his head like a puppy. "What are O.W.Ls?"

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels." Ron explained with his broom hanging over his shoulders. "It's the end of year exams."

"Bill got 12 too and I want to try and make Head Boy like he did. Ah- it's like a leader of the school, similar to a Prefect but with more permissions." Percy explained when he noticed Harry's puzzled look.

"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year." Fred said as the group crested the hill to the paddock. "Four sets of Lockhart's books! Not to mention bean sprout over there needs new robes-"

"Mine'll just be adjusted, like they always are." Ron huffed with an eye roll.

George raised an eyebrow at him. "I dunno, Ron-"

"You've really shot up this year." Fred continued for George.

"You're probably taller than Bill was-"

"Probably? He almost didn't fit Bill's robes last year."

"That doesn't bode well for this year-"

"Alright, enough!" Percy raised his voice and put his hands between the twins, separating them. "No one wants to hear about your height insecurities-"

"Oi!" They both shouted together.

"We'll manage. We always do." Percy finished with finality and glared at the two, pointing at the paddock. "Now get in there and play Quidditch, I'll referee from the fence. And, for the love of Merlin, don't fly too high. Ron, are you up for a game of chess afterwards?"

Ron smiled and gave an enthusiastic nod. “Absolutely! Don’t expect me to go easy.”

As the boys pushed off with their brooms, Ron could faintly hear Percy whisper to himself. “He was going easy before?”

The game was great, along with all the others they played together including George grabbing the old gobstones and introducing Harry to the game. That had resulted in Mum spraying all three of them with a jet of water from her wand, outside where they couldn't stink up the house. Percy watched that show from the kitchen window, laughing when Fred tripped in the mud below them.

That’s ok though, Ron was able to win against Percy in their chess match…..multiple times, even when he and Harry teamed up against him (that was one of the quickest rounds). 

The following Wednesday, Mum came charging into the rooms bright and early and ushered them down to the kitchen. Breakfast was served, eaten and the house descended into chaos as everyone rushed to get ready for the day ahead. Everyone pulled on their coats and robes, Percy brushing off Ron's dusty robe as Mum did the same to Harry.

Ron brushed off Percy's attempts to clean him as Mum picked up the floo powder pot from the mantle. "We're running low Arthur, we'll have to buy some more today.....ah well, guests first! After you Harry!"

Mum held out the floo powder to Harry who stared at it like it was a three-eyed toad. "W-what am I supposed to do?"

Ron felt like the biggest idiot. "He's never traveled by floo powder before. Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

Harry brushed the apology aside but Ron still felt guilt churning in his gut. He never wanted Harry to feel unwelcome or out of place, especially today of all days! While Mum and Dad argued quickly about how Harry got to Diagon Alley last year, Fred and George stepped up to the pot.

"He'll be alright, Mum." Fred said while grabbing a pinch of the glittering powder. "Harry, watch us first."

In stepped Fred and with a strong call of 'Diagon Alley!' The flames roared up, changing to emerald green and swallowed Fred into its magic. Percy put his arm out and gently pushed Ron away from the roaring flames until they had died out in the fireplace.

"You must speak clearly, Dear." Mum told Harry as George pinched some powder and disappeared into the flames as well. "And mind you get out at the right gate..."

"The right what?" Harry's eyes furrowed and his brow pinched with worry.

"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fire's to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly-"

"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss." Dad said as he gently helped Harry into the fireplace as Mum held out the powder to Harry.

"Oh, fine." Mum huffed as Harry took a pinch of the powder. "Now, remember, speak very clearly-"

Dad nodded along with Mum. "Keep your elbows tucked in-"

"And keep your eyes shut, the soot-"

"And don't fidget, you might fall out the wrong fireplace-"

"But don't panic and get out too early. Wait until you see Fred and George-"

"Ok, ok!" Ron stepped forward while trying to step in between Harry, Mum and Dad. "He gets it. Harry'll be fine. You'll be fine, mate. Just speak clearly and wait until you see Fred and George. Nothing to it."

"R-right." Harry stuttered as Ron stepped back which did not fill him with confidence.

Harry drew in a small breath, holding the powder like Fred and George did, opening his mouth and taking a gulp of air and soot, Harry coughed out. "D-diagonally!"

In a burst of emerald flames, Harry disappeared into the fire just as the twins had. Blinking away the excess soot, Ron turned to both his parents who had bewildered looks on their faces.

"What did he say, Dear?" Mum asked Dad who had his hands on his hips.

"....Diagonally." Dad replied with pinched lips.

"I thought so."

"Well, what do we do?" Ron questioned both his parents as Percy gently held his shoulders. "Harry's only been to Diagon Alley once and I doubt he'd remember much of it. If he didn't speak clearly he could have ended up anywhere-"

"Ron, lad, calm down. Harry will be ok." Dad took over for Percy in holding his shoulders, calm and steady. "I'll head in and wait for you three to come through, then we can split up and look for Harry. With any luck, he just ended up one gate too far."

Ron gave a nod, fingers starting to twist themselves, as Dad let go and stepped into the fireplace. Gone in a flash of emerald flames and quickly followed by Percy then Ron himself. Like a fish to water, Ron quickly navigated to the gate where the rest of his family was waiting.

They only had to wait a moment for Mum to come flying in and bustling them with orders. "Right, Harry never showed up. Arthur, Fred, George and Percy, you three check the streets, he might have wandered out on his own. Ron, with me, we'll check the other grates. Meet up at Gringotts."

With nods all around, Ron's hand was quickly snatched up by Mum and the two were off to try and find his wayward best friend. Shop after shop they walked into with no luck and no witch or wizard having seen hide or tail of Harry.

"Mum, what if we can't find Harry?" Ron anxiously asked as they exited another shop with no sign of the glasses wearing boy.

Mum abruptly stopped, grip bordering on too tight around his hand before she drew in a deep breath and turned them around. "We'll find him, Ron. Now, come on, we'll head back to Gringotts and see if the others found him."

Back through the sea of witches and wizards they wandered until the gleaming white building of Gringotts came into view. The group of redheads was unmistakable along with the bushy haired girl with them.

And the glasses wearing boy too!

"Ron! Ronald Weasly, do not run!" Mum shouted after him as Ron sprinted up the steps and flung himself at Harry.

"Harry! You're ok! And Hermione, it's great to see you again!" Ron detached himself from Harry and grabbed Hermione in a hug which she happily returned.

Laughing, Hermion pulled back from the hug with a big smile. "It's great to see you as well, Ron!"

Ron gave her another smile as he turned back to Harry and his smile turned to a questioning frown. "And where did you pop out? Mum and I searched everywhere."

"Knockturn Alley." A gruff voice said from behind them and startled Ron.

Ron hadn't even noticed Hagrid standing with Harry on the steps in his frantic rush to get to the other boy. Ron had also failed to notice Hermione's parents standing with her, who were probably weirded out by this boy running up and hugging their daughter. They were probably more put off by Dad who was asking them a million questions a minute.

Mum certainly noticed though as she came bustling up the stairs, cleaning cloth at the ready.

"Ronald! Honestly, I know we were all worried about Harry, but I know I raised you with more manners than this!" Mum sternly said as she went about cleaning the soot off his face and clothes. "Thank you so much for finding Harry, Hagrid. Knockturn Alley, of all places-"

"Brilliant." Fred and George smirked which was quickly wiped away with a scolding glare from Mum.

Dad tapped his wand to Harry's glasses which repaired themselves as Hagrid announced his leave. "See yer at Hogwarts!"

And off he was, striding through the packed streets of Diagon Alley, the people barely parting for him as they hustled into the shops they needed. As Hagrid departed, the group turned and made their way into Gringotts which was unusually packed today.

Ron could guess why and it took everything in him to not smile too wide.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry's question drew Ron's attention away from scanning the crowded halls. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Dad asked sharply from behind them.

Harry shook his head. "No, he was selling."

"So he's worried. Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy on something..."

"You be careful, Arthur." Mum replied just as sharply as a goblin waved them in with a nod to Dad. "That family's trouble, don't go biting off more than you can chew."

Dad looked rather put off by Mum's point. "So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?"

Before Mum could reply, another goblin stepped forward and waved the group towards the more private section of Gringotts. There was a crowd of witches and wizards gathered where more Goblins held them back from entering. Ron felt his grin stretch more as he imagined what lay on the other side of the guarded doors.

Who is a more accurate word here.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked and Hermione tilted her head over to Ron as well.

He gave his two friends an eager grin. "It's a surprise for Harry."

"Me?" The boy pointed to himself and Ron eagerly nodded as the crowd was pushed aside for them by the goblins.

"Go on." Ron pointed to the door. "You go first and we'll follow. You'll like this, I promise."

Hesitantly, Harry left their little group and the doors were opened for him, quickly they were all ushered into the nearly silent room. Ron heard his brothers gasp a little as did Hermione and Ron's smile grew more. Harry stood confused in the middle of the room, one hand gripping his other arm.

With a thud, the doors closed behind them and it was just the Weasley's, the Granger's, Harry and the two men on a couch left in the room.

One of the men, shaggy black hair less wild looking than it had been when Ron last saw him, stood with an awed gasp. "Harry."

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin stood from the couch they were seated on and looked at Harry like he was the most precious treasure in existence.

"Harry," Ron stepped up next to his best friend. "This is Sirius Black and Remus Lupin." Ron introduced and pointed to each man respectively.

Harry's eyes widened and he stepped a little closer to the two. "So, you're my godfather?"

"That's right." No sooner had the words left Sirius' mouth than Harry was shooting off and wrapping him in a hug.

"It's great to finally meet you." Harry's words were muffled in Sirius's leather jacket.

Sirius hugged the boy back just as fiercely. "Trust me, I know the feeling. It's so good to see you again and look at you! You look just like James but with Lily's eyes."

Harry pulled back from the hug with a big grin. "What are you doing here?"

"To explain a few things and tell our story." Remus answered and gestured to the couch. "Will you allow us the chance to explain?"

Harry did so, Ron following at his heel and boxing him in on the couch with Hermione. Both their families surrounded the kids as Remus and Sirius sat on the opposite couch and began their tale.

The friend they made in Hogwarts, all joining into Gryffindor and the mischief they got up to together. Four best friends, one of whom fell in love with the pretty new girl who's wit was as sharp as her mind and spells. The love and continued friendship that blossomed over the years cultivating into a little babe together.

"As soon as you were born, James named me your godfather and asked if I would care for you if anything were to happen to him or Lilly. I agreed, of course. You were such a tiny thing when you were born." Sirius smiled wistfully, eyes trapped in a memory. "Then, that fateful night happened."

Remus put a hand to Sirius' arm. "Let's spare the details, Sirius . To your part only."

"Right, right. Thank you, Moony."

Ron saw Fred and George furrow their brows and turn to each other to mouth the name but Ron ignored them as Sirius spoke again. "Well, after that night, I confronted Peter and learned of his betrayal. Before I could do anything, he'd let off the blasting curse and framed me for murder."

Sirius hesitantly met Harry's eyes. "I was locked away in Azkaban for life, forced to live in torment until my final breath. Until your friend Ron found Peter alive."

Ron felt the steady hand of his father on his shoulder and Fred moved away from George to take a seat at Ron's feet. His own silent comfort for the ordeal that Peter cost their family and Ron.

"The courts ruled I was ok for visits and, well, things have been going very well-"

"Harry." Remus interrupted Sirius’s stuttering. "The courts, and myself, have ruled Sirius sane and well enough to look after a child - with supervision from me still. We remember Petunia well-"

"Remember her sour attitude and fu-"

Remus pinched Sirius' arm. "Language."

"Don't ‘ language’ me, I'm a grown man!" Sirius postured back to the other man.

"Then act like it and ask your godson already."

"Fine!" Sirius turned to Harry quickly. "Petunia was awful and I can't imagine her family is much better. Would you like to live with Remus and myself? Would you like to be a part of our family? You can keep the name Potter, obviously too sentimental- oof!"

Harry had jumped from the couch and was fiercely hugging Sirius around his torso, face buried in his collar bone. Sirius was quick to hug back just as tightly, gently rocking side to side with Harry as he remained sitting. The leather of his jacket was wrinkling under Harry’s tight grip but Sirius didn't seem to care.

Remus had a fond smile on his face as he watched the two, letting his hand rest comfortably on Harry's back. From over Harry's shoulder, Sirius mouthed 'thank you' to Ron who's face bloomed into a bright red. Waving off the praise, Ron leant back into the couch and let his Mum wrap her arms around him.

"You did very good, Ron. I'm so proud of you." She whispered to him and Ron's mood lifted into the clouds.

That's all he'd ever wanted.

The happy moment was broken by Remus clearing his throat. "As ecstatic as we all are, I believe we do have work to do today."

"We do?" Sirius tilted his head like a dog would.

Remus rolled his eyes at the other. "The school supplies you idiot!"

"School supplies...right! Yes it is that time of year isn't it!" Remus shook his head at the other man while Ron let out a little snicker. "Come on then everyone, Harry. Let's go get your things."

People gasped when they exited the room, Sirius' arm firmly over Harry's shoulder. Not only were they seeing Harry Potter but Sirius Black both in one place. It must have been similar to seeing a Phoenix in the wild.

The group made their way towards the goblins that would lead to the vaults, the Granger's taking off to exchange their muggle money for wizard money. Dad had to be dragged away from gawking at the muggle money by Mum as they all loaded up on the goblin-driven carts. The Weasley vault was up first and Ron felt embarrassed at the utter lack of anything in it.

Mum swept up the single gold Galleon and the small pile of silver Sickles into her purse and hustled out of the vault. Ron didn't have much time to feel sorry for himself or his family before they were rocketing off to Harry's vault. His best friend tried to hide the contents of his vault very unsuccessfully.

Ron didn't think he'd ever get the image of the almost tower of gold Galleon's out of his head any time soon.

Expecting the cart to make its ascent back to the top floor, Ron, and everyone, was thrown for a loop when the cart descended again. Sirius shouted back to them from the front of the cart. "Not to worry, everyone! We're making a pit stop."

What was a pit stop?

The cart went deeper than Ron had ever been and came to a smooth stop at another vault, this one with an elegant door and deep engravings. Sirius jumped off the cart and fished out a key from inside his jacket, giving it to the goblin to open. If Harry's vault was impressive, Sirius’ was down right gobsmacking.

It was easy to forget Sirius bore the last name Black and the prestige that came from that name.

Towered high was a fortune in glittering gold Galleon's which Sirius proceeded to shove into a tattered bag he'd brought along. He made his way back to their cart and hopped back into his seat beside Remus and they were off again.

"I never was well liked by my family." Sirius explained on the thrill ride back up. "But, as the last surviving Black, the rest of my family isn't doing much with that vault now."

The cart came to a smooth stop again and everyone jumped off whereupon, Sirius pulled out a handful of Galleon's and handed them to Mum.

"Oh, no! Absolutely not." Mum pushed the handful back into Sirius's hand. "That is your money, we can not take it-"

"It's a dreadfully small thank you from me to your family. For looking after Harry while I was in Azkaban, for getting me out of there and letting me see Harry again. Please, I insist." Sirius pushed the Galleon's back into Mum's hands who seemed to well with tears.

She breathed deep and accepted the Galleon's with a kind smile. "Thank you, Dear, but it's not needed. It's a pleasure to look after Harry." 

Smiles and happy chatter filled their group again as they made their way outside, Mum handing out the Sickles she had collected and a single Galleon to everyone. Percy gave a thank you to Mum and Sirius before rushing off, muttering about a new quill. Fred and George said their thanks too before rushing off to find their friend Lee Jordan.

Dad insisted on buying the Granger's a drink that had Mum rolling her eyes and looking back at the kids. "We'll meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour! You kids, be safe!"

"We'll stick with them, Molly!" Remus shouted back. "Keep an eye on them and all that."

Mum gave a nod before turning sharply and shouting at the retreating forms of Fred and George. "And not one step into Knockturn Alley!"

"Come on, kids. Let's have a wander around." Remus led them forward while Sirius shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

People stopped and gawked but Ron didn't focus on the attention, instead letting himself fall into the easy rhythm that Harry and Hermione provided. Harry brought them all large strawberry and peanut butter flavoured ice creams which was beyond scrumptious. They passed shop after shop that Ron hadn't had time to admire while he and Mum were frantically searching for Harry earlier.

Hermione had to drag Ron away from a window that had a full set of Chudley Cannons gear in 'Quality Quidditch Supplies'. She dragged them into the neighbouring store for parchment and extra ink. The group made their way through the crowds and found themselves at Gambol and Japes Joke Shop where they found the twins with Lee Jordan.

The three boys were stocking up on Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-start, No-Heat Fireworks. Ron saw Sirius sneakily grab some Instant Transporting Popping Bubbles for them too. Ron quickly explained that they were bubbles that were designed to transport small objects with apparition magic to Harry.

"Not when you combine them with an air spell and a small non-shatter charm." Sirius whispered to them as they made their way back to the street. "Those bubbles can blow to the size of a full wizard or witch, perfect for apparating a teacher or two- ah!"

"We're supposed to be setting an example, Sirius!" Remus hissed at the other man, hand returning from the slap he'd given to the back of Sirius’ head.

"Yeah, and I'm setting a great one. Don't act so high and mighty, Moony. I've known you since first year." Sirius scolded right back.

"And I've known you equally as long Mr.I-can-totally-scale-the-clock-tower-in-nothing-but-my-undergarments."

"Still not as bad as trying to break into McGonagall's office."

"And that was because James wanted research on the castle ."

"Hey, that research was a great project!"

The two adults continued to argue much to Ron and his two best friend's amusement. The group found themselves in a shop with broken wands and brass knuckles where Percy had curled up in a corner with a book.

"Prefects Who Gained Power. A study of Hogwarts Prefects and their later careers." Ron read the cover allowed and raised an eyebrow. "That sounds deeply fascinating-"

"Go away." Percy kicked at Ron's legs who jumped out of the way, eyes still on the book. "If you're not here to read then keep wandering the street. We've still got...."

"40 minutes." Remus called out as Percy looked around for a clock.

"40 minutes." Percy parroted. "And I'd like to spend that time reading."

"Sure sure, whatever you say Perce. Just don't be late or Mum will go on a hunt."

"You mean you and Mum?"

"Goodbye Percy!" Ron shouted and quickly dragged his friends away from his older brother, Sirius and Remus following closely behind.

"He's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned out or... had it planned out, I guess. He wanted to be Minister of Magic for the longest time but I'm not so sure anymore." Ron told the group as they made their way back into Diagon Alley.

"What makes you say that, Ron?" Rumus questioned.

"Well, he just hasn't seemed as interested in the Ministry since last year. I think he still wants to work for the Ministry but I'm not sure if he wants to be Minister of Magic. Keeps reading all these big books on jobs but, with that scrunched up face he has when he’s not happy."

Remus hummed and gave Ron a smile. "I'm sure Percy will choose the path that's right for him. He's got a good head on his shoulders."

Ron shrugged, eyes downcast. "If you say so."

The group wandered around the shops some more with Hermione and Harry buying some supplies they might need. An hour later they made their way to Flourish and Blotts but they were by no means the only ones making their way there. The bookshop was bustling with people, so much so that they were spilling out onto the street and blocking the way.

The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

Will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

Today 12.30 - 4.30 pm

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

From what Ron could see, the crowd seemed to be made up of mostly witches that were around Mum's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood by the door saying, "Calmly, please ladies....don't push there.....mind the books, now..."

The group squeezed inside, some witches glancing over at them only to gasp and turn the other way when they saw Sirius. The queue was longer than long and wound all the way to the back of the shop where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing books. Remus passed them each a copy of Break with a Banshee and snuck up the line to where the rest of the Weasley clan was standing with the Granger's.

"Oh, there you are, good." Mum sounded breathless as she kept patting down her hair. "We'll be able to meet him in a minute. Thank you for keeping an eye on them, you two."

Sirius gave Mum a happy smile. "No worries at all, Molly. Happy to spend any time I can with Harry and his friends.....now who's the blond prat?"

Mum, on instinct, gave Sirius a light slap and small scolding before launching into a very detailed explanation of who Gilderoy Lockhart was. As Mum explained, the line moved along and Gilderoy came slowly into view. He was seated at a table and surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzling white teeth at the crowd.

The real Gilderoy Lockhart was wearing forget-me-not blue robes which exactly matched his eyes. A pointed wizards hat sat atop blond, wavy, curls as he smiled and signed books for the crowd. Ron agreed with Sirius, he did look like a prat.

A short and irritable-looking man was dancing around and taking photos with a large black camera, purple puffs of smoke emitting from it. The Daily Prophet no doubt-

"Out of the way there." The man snapped and shoved Ron back. "This is for the Daily Prophet."

"Big deal." Ron whispered as he rubbed his foot that the man had stepped on.

Evidently, Gilderoy had heard Ron's whisper (or the words Daily Prophet ) as his head snapped up and looked over at their group. What had Ron backing up into George’s chest was Gilderoy shooting to his feet and quickly making his way over to them. "It can't be, Harry Potter?"

The man had shouted happily and the crowd parted like a herd of spooked mooncalves for him. In the blink of an eye, Lockhart dived forward and seized Harry's arm to pull him out of the line and in front of the crowd. The crowd burst into applause as Lockhart enthusiastically shook Harry's hand whose face was as red as Ron's hair.

The applause quickly stopped when Sirius stepped forward and, none too gently, removed Lockhart's hand forcefully from Harry's.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't grab my godson out of the blue like that, sir." The poorly concealed venom dripped from Sirius’ clenched teeth.

If possible, Lockhart's smile got wider. "Harry Potter and Sirius Black both at my book signing? What a momentous occasion!"

Lockhart tried to grab Harry again but Sirius kept a firm grip on his shoulders and swiftly stepped them out of the man's reach. Not deterred, Lockhart faced the crowd with great enthusiasm.

"Ladies and gentlemen," He said loudly and waved for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography - which I will be giving him free of charge -"

The group applauded again as Lockhart continued. "He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his school fellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me."

Ron felt his hope for this new school year dwindling as Lockhart continued his little speech. "Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that, this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd clapped and cheered as Ron's hopes for the future school year plummeted into his feet and through the floor. Great, they got to have, in Sirius’ words, the blond prat teaching them how to defend themselves. But, hey, you can't get worse than a mass murderer pretending to be your teacher.

So at least Lockhart had that going for him.

Harry stumbled back over to his side, arms full of the new books that Lockhart had just gifted him and promptly dumped them in Ron's arms.

"Oi!" Ron shouted while quickly balancing the stack in his arms. "I'm not your personal carrier, hold your own bloody books."

Harry waved away Ron's shout. "They're not mine-"

"Ah, yes they bloody well are."

"No, I mean that I'm giving them to you. I'll just buy my own set so you can have those."

Ron was stunned to the spot. While Mum thanked Harry, Ron couldn't stop looking at his selfless, best friend in awe. Ok, maybe Ron was a little envious that Harry could just buy a whole set of Lockhart's books like it was nothing but the gesture was still kind. Ron adjusted the books so they'd sit better in his arms and gave his friend a smile.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter." That good mood Ron had? Gone with an eye roll as Draco Malfoy strode over with his usual sneer.

"Famous Harry Potter," Said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

Ron rolled his eyes again. "Oh, sod off, Malfoy. If you couldn't tell, Harry wasn't exactly having the time of his life up there."

Malfoy turned his head sharply and raised a blond brow at him, eyeing his stack of books. "Weasley? What are you doing in a shop? I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for that lot."

Ron felt his face go scarlet and he dropped his books as he made to lunge at Malfoy, only for Harry and Hermione, who'd made her way over, to hold him back.

"Ron!" Dad called out as he made his way towards them with Fred, George, Percy and Sirius trailing him. "What are you doing? It's mad in here, let's pick up those books and wait outside. Harry, Remus is picking up your books at the counter-"

"Well, well, well - Aurther Weasey." A snake-like voice came from behind Malfoy that had the hair on the back of Ron's neck standing up.

Long blond hair, a matching sneer like Draco's, expensive robes, a cane with a snake on the ferrule to match his demeanor and a gloved hand resting on Draco's shoulder.

"Lucius." Dad greeted coldly.

"Busy time of year at the Ministry, I hear." Said Mr Malfoy. "All those raids....I hope they're paying you overtime?"

One of those gloved hands reached out and snatched one of Ron's books that he had gathered back in his arms. Mr. Malfoy looked at the new books then back up, spotting Sirius among their crowd. "Or perhaps you’re taking favours from removed family members. Sirius."

"Lucius." Sirius sneered right back.

"Dear me," Lucius ignored Sirius and turned back to Dad. "What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of Wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Dad's face flushed darker than Ron had ever seen. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of Wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly." Mr. Malfoy sneered, pale eyes locking onto the Granger's who had joined them along with Mum and Remus. "The company you keep Weasley....And I thought your family could sink no lower-"

There was a thud as Ron's books dropped to the floor again but he didn't care as Dad lunged for Lucius Malfoy and knocked him back into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down and there was a shout of 'Get him Dad!' from Fred and George. Percy pulled Ron back and away from the fight as Sirius quickly joined in with a hearty shout.

"No, Aurther, no!" Mum shouted as she bustled forward with Remus who was shouting for Sirius to back down.

The crowd backed away quickly, knocking over more books as the fight continued. The attendant from outside came in and tried to break up the fight with his too quiet words. Through the crowd, like a giant knight, Hagrid came lumbering through the sea of books and people and easily separated the three men.

Dad had a cut lip, Sirius had a manic grin and a few bruises while Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. Mr. Malfoy was still holding Ron's copy of Magical Me and thrust it back at Ron who stumbled back. "Here boy - take your book - it's the best your father can give you."

Ron felt Percy grip his shoulders tightly as he was quickly bracketed in between the twins, all of Ron's brothers glaring at Lucius who sneered at Ron. If it came down to it, Ron had his whole family, Sirius, Remus and now Hagrid here. It would be stupid for Lucius to say anything more.

He seemed to think so too as Mr. Malfoy pulled himself out of Hagrid's grip and beckoned Draco over, the two of them sweeping out of the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, both of yeh." Hagrid sent a pointed look over to Sirius who looked all too happy with the fight. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that. No Malfoy's worth listening ter. Bad blood, that's what it is. Come on now - let's get outta here."

The assistant looked like he wanted to stop them but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and thought better of it, especially with the look Sirius was giving him. Seems the House of Black still held some power even after all this time. They hurried up the street, the Granger's shaking with fright and Mum looking like a ripe tomato with all her fury.

"A fine example to set for your children.....brawling in public....What Gilderoy Lockhart must have thought...."

"He was pleased." Fred answered Mum with his arm slung around Ron's neck, keeping him close. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report - said it was all publicity."

Even with the excitement of the fight, it had died out the more Mum and Remus scolded Dad and Sirius for their actions. The group kept walking up and up but stopped at a shop before they could reach the Leaky Cauldron.

Ollivanders Wand shop.

"Mum," Ron asked while Fred grinned and grabbed Ron's books from him. "What are we doing here?"

Mum, similarly, had a smile on her face as she led Ron and the group up to the shop. "Well, you were using Charlie's old wand last year and we managed to save a little bit more this year, plus Sirius’s kind gift. So, Ron, it's time to get your wand."

Ron's arms went limp at his side, he could feel his jaw was slack and then he barreled into Mum with a fierce hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Alright, alright! In you go!" Mum ushered Ron in and called back to the group. "You're all welcome to stay or head up to the Leaky Cauldron-"

"I'm staying!" Harry eagerly piped up as did Hermione.

The families of both said they would stay, even if they were outside the shop and just like that, Ron's older brother's opted to stay as well.

"Ronnikins has seen all our wands when we got them." Fred smirked as George leant on him.

"It's only fair we see his first time choosing a wand too." George had a large smile on his face.

Percy gently pushed Ron into the store where Olivander was there and waiting. The shelves were stocked with boxes upon boxes, all of which Ron had seen before when his brothers got their wands.

"Ahh, the final Weasley boy has come in finally." Olivander gave him a kind smile as he came from behind the counter. "Hmmmm."

Olivander pointed over to Ron, narrowing his eyes before he turned to the multitude of wand boxes in his shelves. A boney finger ran over the multiple boxes before picking one off the shelf and opening it for Ron. "Kelpie hair, Alder wood, exactly 9 inches. Give it a try."

Ron gently lifted the wand from the box and held it in his hand, feeling his magic thrumming through his veins like a river. With a flick of the wrist, Ron jumped as boxes toppled over and spilled out of the shelves.

"I'm so sorry!" Ron cried out and gave the wand back as Olivander reached for it.

The old man waved him off. "No harm done, none done but, not the right wand."

"It's ok, Ron." Harry bumped his shoulder to Ron's playfully. "I think I toppled that whole shelf over when I tried it out first."

"I set off a bunch of fireworks inside when I tried." Hermione sheepishly admitted from his other side.

"Give this one a try." Olivander was back and holding out another box to Ron. "Applewood and dragon heartstring."

Ron picked it up only to immediately drop it as the wood burned and stung him. "I can't pick it up! It's trying to burn me."

"Much too fiery then." Olivander muttered and wandered off again.

"Probably for the best, Charlie'd have a fit if he learned you had a dragon heartstring in your wand." Fred called out from the shop window. 

Ron was going to shout out for George to shut up but Olivander was back and holding out another wand box to Ron. Inside sat another unassuming lump of magical wood.

Really unassuming.

A rounded handle that seemed to effortlessly blend into the neck of the wand, all made from the same wood. In fact, it seemed to be carved from the same log or branch as there was little to no divide between the handle and the neck apart from the differing colours. While the handle was a light brown the neck was a bumpy, grooved, dark brown.

It certainly didn't look like anything special and yet, when Ron picked up this unassuming wand, the world seemed to grow in clarity. His magic flowed through and seemed to latch onto the wand like it was an extension of his arm. Instead of boxes exploding or fireworks spitting out the tip, Ron felt an invisible wind flutter his clothes.

A cheer rose up among the group when the bond between wizard and wand became obvious and Olivander gave Ron a smile. "Unicorn tail hair, known to produce the most consistent magic and the most loyal of wands. Willow wood too, quite uncommon and known to pick those with great potential. You've got a good heart in you Ronald Wealsey, use this wand well."

Ron, still admiring the feeling of the wand in his hand, thanked Ollivander as Mum handed over the money for it. If Ron had unicorn hair in his wand, maybe Mars would like him just that little bit more. Ron was missing his golden foal friend but it wouldn't be too long now before they could spend time together again.

"Now, remember," Mum gently said as Ron continued to admire his wand. "You can't be doing any magic outside of Hogwarts and put it away!" Mum hastily lowered the hand Ron was holding his wand in. "No respectable witch or wizard keeps their wands out at all times."

"Bet the Malfoy's do." Ron whispered while putting his wand in one of his pockets. 

Harry, who was walking beside him, spoke up. "Yeah, well, your Mum did say no respectable wizard-"

Ron let out a loud laugh as did the twins and Sirius while the others tried to hold in their laughter. Boy, Ron had missed Harry's sharp wit.

By the time they got to the Leaky Cauldron, Ron was still over the moon about having his own wand. The Granger's quickly departed for the Muggle street on the other side of the turning wall, Hermione leading them with a wave back.

Dad looked like he had so many more questions he was bursting to ask but the scathing glare from Mum halted any questions he may have asked.

"Right." Remus clapped his hands together. "Back to the Burrow then?"

"Yes, and swiftly please boys." Mum eyed Ron and his brothers. "We need others on the other side so Remus and Sirius know where they're going."

"Wait, you're staying over?" Ron turned around to face the two men, arms starting to hurt from the weight of the books Fred had dumped back in them.

"Of course." Remus smiled at him. "Harry's already set up over there and we don't want to separate just before school starts. Molly and I figured out the details while we were waiting in line."

Ron's small smile split into a large grin as he turned to Harry who was taking off his glasses. "That's great! Now you can stay over and spend time with your family!"

Harry happily agreed while stepping into the fireplace and taking a handful of Floo Powder, disappearing in the emerald flames. All in all, not a bad shopping trip. 

Chapter Text

That holiday was one of the best Ron has ever had by far. Mum and Dad had managed to convince Sirius and Remus to stay for the whole holidays which meant Harry got to stay too. This, in turn, led to many stories from their school days where many, many, interesting facts were revealed. Such as the fact that, apparently, the group of friends had nicknamed themselves The Marauders when they were in school.

"James thought it was the coolest thing when he suggested the name in second year and this one," Remus pointed with his knife at Sirius over the dinner table. "Easily agreed it was an amazing name."

Sirius remained focused on his pork roast as he sassily replied. "I didn't hear you complaining about it-"

"That is a bold faced lie and you know it."

"It's a great name! The Marauders! Fearless adventurers-"

"Feet off the table." Mum chastised Sirius who had stood up on his chair and rested one foot on the dinner table.

Not deterred, Sirius changed tactics and used the back of his chair as a footstool instead. "Fearless adventurers! Fighting against the odds, the oppressors-"

"Minerva Mcgonagall." Remus whispered to the group.

"And sticking it to long nosed heathens also known as-"

"Serverus Snape." Both Remus and Sirius finished at the same time.

The stories were plentiful and filled up their holidays between Quidditch games, chess matches, pranks set by the twins, Ron's baking and Harry's joyous laughing. It was honestly the best holiday Ron had ever had with his family.

And to top it off, Ron got a talking book!

Alright, that sounds, maybe, a little crazy but it was true. The day they came home from their amazing shopping trip and Ron was ordered to put his new books away he found it. Harry had dumped his things on his trunk, same as Ron had, but from Ron's stack a little black book had slipped out.

Ron hadn't thought much on the thing until he'd picked it up and held the book in his hands and stared at it. There was nothing remarkable about the book, it was just a simple, ratty, old, black book. Flipping it open, there was no writing inside, just empty pages.

However, there was a pull to this book, just something about it that drew Ron towards its blank pages and compelled him to do....something. So, Ron turned it into his recipe book - Mum had one and she had been pushing him to write down his own recipes to add to the Weasley collection. After dinner and long after Harry had fallen asleep, Ron grabbed a quill and began writing down his first recipe.

Just as he finished writing his first recipe, the ink ran and disappeared before his eyes. The black ink was absorbed into the yellowed pages and as fast as they'd disappeared, they re-appeared again but not as he'd written them. " That sounds delicious, a recipe for basic scones? I haven't had one in years."

Ron, very reasonably, startled and nearly fell off his desk chair as the book's pages filled with more ink. "Who writes in me? Who are you?"

Any sane witch or wizard, even a muggle, would have thrown the book away or given it to an adult. Ron's own Dad worked in the one department of the Ministry of Magic that handled these sorts of things. A book that absorbed ink, words, and wrote replies?

Actually....did it write replies?

Steeling his nerves and trying to keep his hand from shaking, Ron wrote out a reply to the book. 'I'm Ron Weasley, who are you?'

Just like last time the ink was absorbed into the yellowed pages and not a second later more appeared. "I'm Tom Riddle, the previous owner of this diary."

Diary? Right, that'll have to change, maybe Ron will call this a journal instead or just keep it as a diary, who cares really. Brushing the thoughts aside, Ron asked the diary - Tom, a new question. 'How did you get stuck in a diary?'

"I'm not stuck, just a personification of old memories." Tom replied, black ink oozing back onto the pages.

The night continued like that, Ron asking Tom questions and the diary asking them in kind. Before long, hours had passed and Ron had to drag himself away from the diary to even attempt to get some sleep. But it didn't stop there, Ron's writing sessions with Tom continued for all of the holidays, every night.

There was just something about the little diary and Tom that drew Ron in, like a tug on his own being that couldn't be denied. So, yes, Ron now had a talking diary and had stayed up to keep talking with Tom.

Ron just wishes he hadn't stayed up that night with the book.

Because that night was the night before their return to Hogwarts, the last night of the school holidays.

It was a fantastic evening, Ron had worked with Mum and together they made a feast fit for a king - or a group of 9 people. Roast, veggies, gravy and baked food galore, topped off with treacle tart that Ron had made especially for Harry. Fred and George rounded off the dinner with a display of Filibuster Fireworks; red and blue stars filled the kitchen and bounced around joyfully.

It was truly an evening to remember, Mum and Dad even cracked open an old bottle of alcohol to share with Remus and Sirius which had all four giggling like loons.

"Giggle water." Percy whispered to Harry and Ron as he led them upstairs. "Low alcohol and makes you giggle or laugh on the first sip."

"What's it taste like?" Harry asked as they reached Percy's room on the stairs.

"Don't know, good I imagine though. It's certainly one of the most popular drinks out there, second only to Butterbeer. Now, off to bed - both of you. It's always hectic the first day back so get some sleep so we can attempt to be early."

So off they trotted up to Ron's room where Harry happily crashed onto his transfigured mattress and promptly passed out, glasses askew on his face, starfished out on the bed and blanket crumpled under one hand. With a snort, Ron grabbed Harry's glasses, folded them up and put them on the windowsill next to the bed.

While Harry snoozed, Ron wrote and talked with Tom in the book telling him about Hogwarts and his imminent return. Tom seemed extremely interested in that, asking what house he was in or if he'd even been sorted. Which, of course, led to Ron doing a brief recap of his time at school last year.

That brief recap lasted well into the night and only ended when Ron passed out on the still open book, ink smeared on his hand.

Which didn't help in the traditional Weasley School Scramble (officially named by Fred) where Ron was shaken awake by Harry. They had woken up just as the rooster crowed yet everyone still scrambled like it was the first time.

Ron had collided with Fred more than three times on the stairs, nearly tripped over Percy while he was carrying Hermes and had a slice of toast shoved into his mouth by Mum. Dad had nearly broken his neck tripping over a chicken while carrying Harry's trunk, too. Remus and Sirius attempted to help but it only served to add to the chaos of the morning.

Finally after piling all their trunks in the boot along with two owls, Ron found himself sitting comfortably in the back of Angelina next to Harry and Geroge. Fred, Percy and Sirius were all in the back too while Mum, Dad and Remus had taken the front seats which had been expanded by Dad.

"Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" Mum asked with a smile while twisting in her seat to face out the front. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the front, would you."

Ron, like everyone else, elected not to tell her Dad had enchanted the car with more than just the ability of flight.

Dad started up the engine and they were off, trundling out of the driveway and towards the front gate. Only for George to shout out he'd forgotten his Filibuster Fireworks. Five minutes later, they were screaming to a halt again so Fred could run in and grab his broom. They were almost to the motorway when Ron cringed and screamed that he'd forgotten his recipe book.

He refused to call it a diary in front of his brothers.

By the time they finally got on the road they were very late and tempers were running high between Mum and Dad. Glancing at his watch, Dad turned to Mum with an anxious look. "Molly, dear-"

"No, Aurther."

"No one would see. This little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed - that'd get us up in the air - then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be the wiser...."

"I said no, Aurther, not in broad daylight."

Ron saw Sirius open his mouth from his peripheral, quickly closing it when Remus shot him a look from the front.

They finally reached Kings Cross at a quarter to eleven. Dad and Remus dashed across the road to get trolleys for the trunks while everyone grabbed their gear. They must have looked a sight to the muggles; a group of nine people rushing through the station with trunks and owls towards platform 9.

"Percy first." Mum said while looking back at the station clock - 5 minutes until the Hogwarts express left the station.

Percy glanced around before running through the invisible barrier between them and platform nine and three-quarters. Dad went next, followed by Fred and George.

"You go on through, Molly." Remus spoke up from behind Ron and next to Sirius. "Help get the others on, we'll get these two sorted."

The relief that crashed on Mum's face was almost hilarious. "You're lifesavers. I'll see you four on the other side."

In the blink of an eye she was gone and it was just Ron standing on the platform with Harry, Remus and Sirius.

"Right, best you two go together." Remus clapped them on the shoulder. "Only a minute to eleven, afterall."

With a nod to Harry, who secured Hedwig's cage on his trolley, the two boys strode forward and steadily gained speed. When they were just before the barrier they bent low over their trolleys and broke into a sprint-

CRASH!

Ron had a minute to feel his trolley's handle punch into his gut as he was bent over the front of it. In a pile of screeching owl, twisting metal and tangled limbs, Ron groaned at the ache in his body. Which was to be expected when you crash into both your best friend and a brick wall.

They caused such a commotion that the nearby guard came thundering over. "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"

"Lost control of the trolley." Ron heard Harry gasp to the guard while Ron grabbed Hedwig's rolling cage. The owl was screeching so fierce, which she had every right to do, that people whispered about animal cruelty.

Sirius came over quickly, helping pick up the tossed about things while Remus smoothed things over with the guard. While the crowd started to disperse, Sirius leaned down and whispered to them. "What happened there boys?"

"We can't get through." Harry whispered back, taking Hedwig from Ron.

Anxiously, Ron watched as Remus cautiously put his hand to the barrier and braced for the wall to vanish....except it didn't. Remus's hand met a solid brick wall just like Ron and Harry had when they tried to run through.

Glancing around, Remus made sure the crowd had left somewhat before he tapped on the wall again before smacking it harshly. Letting off a fury of whispered curses in his, previously unknown, Welsh accent, Remus leant against the wall.

"That's how you know it's bad," Sirius whispered to Ron and Harry. "When his Welsh comes through thick and strong."

"Shut up." Remus pointed over to Sirius without looking away from the wall. "I'm trying to think." 

Sirius raised an eyebrow at the other man. "Well, there's no use thinking here. The train's already left-"

"What!" Ron whipped around and, sure enough, the station clock read 11am on the dot. 

Mum and Dad were going to kill him when they come back through....wait-

"If the barrier's not working, how are my parents supposed to get back through?" Ron anxiously asked the group, all of whom didn't have an answer.

"Better question, how are we getting you two to school? That train is the only way in or out of Hogwarts station." Remus muttered.

Sirius bit his lip and slowly shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's not the only way-"

"Absolutely not." Remus interrupted. "Don't even think about suggesting we ride that bike of yours. It's too small and still confiscated by the Ministry."

Harry adjusted his glasses and tried to calm Hedwig's screeching. "Well, how about we wait by the car for Ron's parents and-"

"The car! You're a genius, Harry!" Ron shouted.

The other boy raised an eyebrow. "How am I a genius?"

"We've got a flying car! We can fly to Hogwarts!"

"But, I thought-"

"We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restrictions of Thingy....it doesn't matter though, Remus or Sirius could drive!"

"Oh, please let me drive!" Sirius shouted, begging Remus. "I haven't driven anything since before Azkaban! Let me drive!"

Ron turned with big, hopeful eyes towards Remus, Harry copying him as all three of them stared at Remus with anticipation. The smartly dressed man looked between them all, up at the station clock, to the barrier then back at them. With a sigh and shake of his head he ushered them all back the way they came. "Come on, quickly. If we hurry, Sirius can follow the Hogwarts Express-"

"YES!" Sirius practically jumped in the air and sprinted for the station exit. "Meet you three at the car!"

Ron watched as Remus shook his head and ushered Harry and himself back the way they came. Ron quietly asked Remus as they power walked out of the station, "Will he even know how to fly, let alone drive the car?"

"Amazingly, Sirius can be a quick study if and only when he wants to be. It's one of his many, many quirks." Remus grumbled to them.

Ron gave Harry a look but the other boy shrugged and the two of them brushed it off.

When they got to the car, gear pilled in the boot and everyone strapped in, Sirius let out a gleeful laugh. "Alright, Moony, pass us your wand."

With an eye roll, Remus did as asked while looking out the side window. "Motorway is clogged but the street is empty."

"Prefect." With a grin, Sirius tapped the wand to the ignition and the car spluttered to life, engine rumbling under Ron's seat.

Quickly leaning forward, Ron pointed to a small silver button on the dash. "That's the Invisibility Booster."

"Good on you, lad." Sirius, still with a manic grin, hit the booster, quickly followed by him flooring the accelerator pedal.

With a scream from everyone but Sirius, who was laughing, and Remus, who screamed at Sirius, the car was lifting into the air. The dirty buildings fell away on either side of them giving way to blue sky and fluffy clouds. In seconds, the whole of London fell away and became a glittering speck below them.

There was a ghastly popping noise and the car, plus everyone inside, became visible again. Ron's eyes darted to the front where the Invisibility Booster had turned itself off.

"Uh oh, uhhh, the booster might be faulty." Ron pointed out while Remus took to quickly jabbing it with his finger.

With more Welsh cursing and a hard smash, the invisibility activated again and Sirius let the car zoom off into the sky. Into a group of clouds, Sirius steered them where everything became gray and foggy.

"What now?" Harry asked from beside him in the back.

Remus spared them a glance in the rear view mirror before looking out the side of the car. "We need to find the train and follow its path. Sirius, bring the car down so we can find it."

Dutifully, the car lowered below the clouds where everyone looked around for the iconic locomotive. They didn't have to look long before Harry happily pointed it out, the train steaming along like a scarlet snake.

"Good job, Harry." Sirius praised. "We'll check-in every half hour to see we're following it. Until then..." The car rose back up through the air and above the clouds, the wheels skimming along the fluffy white things and kicking up behind them like dust.

With the imminent danger and panic gone, Ron turned to Harry at the same time the other boy turned to face him. Both looked at each other for only a moment before Ron found himself doubling over with laughter. On and on they laughed and laughed, leaning on each other for support as they did.

Traveling in the car and through the air was like a dream.

The clouds passed them by like fluffy pillows and dispersed like dust under the rubber tires. With a large bag of toffee and some snacks Remus had on him, the group managed to stay a little bit fed. Sirius would periodically dip the car below the clouds and check on the scarlet steam engine, course correcting if needed.

In these dips below the clouds, Ron watched as the busy streets of London fell away and bled into the green countryside. With little villages and toy churches scattered among farmlands and long moors. It was, to grossly understate it, beautiful.

Several uneventful hours, with one thirst inducing, eaten bag of toffee later and it was less beautiful than before. Remus had managed to find an old water bottle on the floor and had used a spell to fill it with water - which they sipped at. As they were unable to land and had no bathroom readily available (except the open air) they were told - ordered , to sip at it.

Ron stated longingly out the window as they dove down for another check on the train. Why oh why had they not been able to get on to platform nine and three-quarters? Beneath the canopy of clouds, the land was washed in twilight - bordering on dark.

Weaving through the snow capped mountains, Ron could spot the scarlet engine still chugging along the tracks.

"Jumpers on boys." Ron was startled out of his staring by Remus who was looking dead ahead. "Hogwarts will be showing up soon."

"Think McGonagall still works there?" Sirius wistfully called.

"I'd be surprised if she ever quits."

"She's still there." Ron said while pulling on his Weasley sweater from last year. "She's our Head of House - Gryffindor-"

The car's engine gave a lurching whine and the wipers began feebly flinging themselves back and forth almost in protest. With a lurch, the car seemed to momentarily stall before righting itself in the air again.

"What's with the car?" Sirius twisted slightly to look back at Ron, keeping an eye out the front window as he did.

Ron gently rubbed Angelian's door, soothing the enchanted vehicle. "It's probably just tired. It's never driven this far." 

When they ducked back down, Ron kept up his soothing to the poor car, Harry joining him as they whispered, "Not far now."

And they were right, it wasn't far.

On their final duck under the clouds, Harry happily pointed out their destination dotted on the horizon. High on the cliff and overlooking the lake, the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts rose like a delicate beacon in the night. The happiness at seeing the glittering castle was short-lived however, as the car gradually lost speed.

"Come on." Sirius grit his teeth and gave the wheel a little wobble. "Nearly there, come on-"

The engine groaned and Ron could see little trails of steam coming from under the bonnet as they flew past his window. Ron, like Harry, found himself gripping onto the old seat with white knuckles while Sirius drove on.

The car gave a nasty wobble and Ron was gifted with a clear view of the Black Lake below them, glittering with the reflection of the castle above.

"Come on-" Sirius had a death grip on the wheel while Remus was also holding onto his seat for dear life.

They made it over the lake....the castle was right ahead....Sirius  put his foot down. There was a loud clunk, a splutter and the engine died completely.

"Uh oh." Sirius whispered into the silent air.

The nose of the car dropped and they were falling, heading straight for the wall of the castle.

"Nooooo!" Remus leant across and yanked the steering wheel to the side, the car narrowly avoiding the dark wall by inches.

Still losing height, the car flew over the greenhouse and veggie patch, heading straight for the dark lawn below.

"Sirius, THE TREE!" Harry's shout didn't help anything-

CRUNCH!

With an ear splitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Ron could see steam billowing out of the bonnet, Hedwig was screeching like a banshee and Ron's head ached.

"Are you ok?" Harry's arm urgently shook his and Ron waved the concern away.

"Fine....I think. You?" Ron turned to Harry who was sporting a nasty goose egg on his forehead and a few other bruises.

"Boys!" Remus startled both of them. "Are you both ok!?"

Before either could answer, everyone in the car was jostled as something rammed into the sides of the car with the power of a charging graphorn. The force of the push knocked Harry into Ron, who quickly caught his friend before he could tumble over. An equally heavy blow plowed into the top of the roof.

Ron, on instinct, covered his head as the blows kept coming. "What's happeni-"

Before he could finish his question, a large branch, as thick as a python, came crashing on the bonnet of the car. The tree was attacking them. The bloody tree was attacking them!

"I hate magic some days." Ron whimpered.

From the front, Sirius let out a curse as the tree continued its assault. "Of course we had to land on the fucking Whomping Willow-"

"Don't curse out the tree, get that engine going!" Remus shouted.

Miraculously, so miraculous that Ron could have cried, the engine started up with a sputtering rumble but it was enough.

"Reverse!” Ron shouted at the same time Remus and Harry did. 

The car shot backwards as the tree continued its assault, Ron could hear the roots creaking and cracking as if it was trying to rip itself out of the ground. Very luckily for the occupants of the car, the tree did not rip itself out of the ground to continue its attack.

"That," Panting, Ron leant on the window of the car and gave it a pat. "Was close. Well done, car."

Even with the praise, it seemed the car had reached the end of its tether. With two smart clunks, the doors flew open and Ron found himself tipped outside and into the dirt. Loud thumps signaled the car ejecting his and Harry's luggage from the boot.

Hedwig's cage landed with a metallic thunk and burst open, the tenacious owl flying into the air and towards the castle with an enraged screech. Dented, scratched and steaming, the car reversed and pivoted in the dirt, driving away before anyone could utter a word.

"Come back!" Ron yelled after its retreating form. "Dad'll kill me."

"The Whomping Willow is more likely to kill you, Ron. Up you get." Remus helpfully lifted Ron to his feet, Sirius doing the same for Harry. Behind the adults, the willow was still flailing its branches threateningly.

"Let's grab your gear and head inside." Remus said while grabbing Ron's trunk, only to have Sirius haul it over his shoulder along with Harry's. "With any luck, people will be too focused on the Sorting Ceremony to notice us."

Ron grabbed his messenger bag from the ground and pulled out his robes that Percy insisted he pack in it. Thank Merlin Percy was prone to planning ahead, Ron thought as he pulled them on. Patting his pockets, Ron made sure the diary was unharmed before he grabbed Hedwig's empty cage and followed the group up to the castle.

"How are you two going to get home without the car?" Ron asked as they dragged their feet up the grassy slope towards the great oak doors.

"We can Apparate, use Floo Powder, or take the train back." Sirius grunted as he heaved their trunks higher on his shoulders. "Plenty of options. Could even borrow a broom-"

"Absolutely not. The train'll be our best bet." Remus whispered as they approached large stone steps that were littered with other trunks.

Ron dropped the things he was carrying, barely organizing them, before he was quietly sprinting off to a well lit window.

"I think the Sorting Ceremony has started." Ron whispered to the group behind him, peering through the glass at the lined up first years.

Ron felt the other three crowd around him as they all peered into the window at the Great Hall and the beginning of year feast. Innumerable candles lit the Great Hall, overshadowed only by the enchanted ceiling that mimicked the night sky outside. Any and all kinds of food was piled along the four, long tables for the four houses.

Ron could make out a line of terrified first-years along the back wall of the hall, shuffling their feet. Ron spotted a head of white, almost silver, hair glancing around the Hall with wide, kind eyes and let a breath of relief out. It was good to see Luna out of the house again, Merlin knows the poor girl needed it.

Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the Hall, placing the frayed sorting hat on a boy with mousy brown hair. Behind the sorting chair was the teacher's table, Professor Dumbledore taking the center seat and the other teachers spread down the long table. Among them, Ron spotted Gilderoy Lockhart sporting an aquamarine robe and a ditzy smile on his face.

"Hang on," Ron turned to Harry who was closely scrutinizing the teacher's table. "There's an empty chair at the staff table....where's Snape?"

"Snape? As in Severus Snape?" Both Remus and Sirius asked.

"Yeah, he's our potions master-"

"And he's an annoying, biased git and everyone hates him. Maybe he's ill!" Ron joyfully explained.

"Or maybe he left, because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position again." Harry gleefully theorized.

"Snape? Wanting to teach anything? I'll have to see it to believe it." Sirius grumbled. "Sniveling Severus, we used to call him. Lord Almighty, he was a self-absorbed, annoying, pure-blood elitist Slytherin snake. If there was ever anyone more unpleasant, I'd bite my tongue off."

"Maybe you should do that anyway, Sirius ." A cold voice from behind them startled both Ron and their little quartet horribly.

With his black robes rippling like a cold breeze, Severus Snape stood behind them, still thin as ever with his sallow and sickly looking complexion. Ron had to wonder if the man could do anything else other than sneer at people and look down at them over his hooked nose.

"All of you, follow me. I can't wait to hear the explanation as to why these two," Snape's spindly fingers pointed to Ron and Harry respectively. "Weren't on the school train and how you two," Now he pointed to Remus and Sirius. "Play a role in it."

Ron watched as a sarcastic grin stretched over Sirius' face before Reemus could stop him. "Always a pleasure to see you again, Severus."

Snape barely batted an eye but, one of them did twitch at the address. "Move. Now."

Ron, who was ready to follow along, watched as Sirius went to open his mouth again only for Remus to quickly elbow his ribs. Silently, the quartet followed Snape through the vast, echoing Entrance Hall, lit with flaming torches. The delicious smell from the Great Hall beckoned Ron but Snape was absolute and led them away from the warmth and food.

Down winding staircases and corridors, Snape led the group into the dimly lit, cold and echoing dungeons. Halfway down the cold passage, Snape opened a door Ron hadn't even noticed and commanded them in.

Ron had three guesses to where they were and he only needed one, Snape's office. The room was just as creepy, dark and cold as the man who inhabited it. Walls were lined with glass jars with all manner of dead and revolting things that made Ron thankful for his empty stomach. The grand fireplace remained cold and empty.

Snape closed the heavy, wooden door and turned to look at them all.

"So," Snape softly began with a sneer. "the train isn't good enough for Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasly. Wanted to arrive with a bang did we boys? Roped in these two as well just to cause a stir."

"No sir," Harry began. "It was the barrier at King's Cross, it-"

"Silence!" Snape snapped.

"You could at least listen to the boy, Severus. The barrier at King's Cross Station was closed. Both Remus and I tested it, we couldn't get through." Sirius glared and grumbled to Snape, placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.

Snape turned his cold glare to the other two adults. "And I'm supposed to believe you two, am I? Given your histories, forgive me for my lack of belief." The cold glare was back on Ron and Harry. "Where's the car?"

Ron gulped. He knew it, he knew Snape could read minds, just some more freaky magic that the snake possessed. Ron was pulled from his spiralling thoughts when Snape unrolled today's issues of the Evening Prophet.

"You were seen." Snape hissed, pointing with his bony finger to the glaring headline and moving cover image: FLYING FORD ANGELINA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES.

Snape began to read aloud. "Two muggles, in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower...at noon, in Norfolk, Mrs Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing....Mr Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police." .....six or seven muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office?" Ron felt a chill go up his spine at Snape's sinister smile. "Dear, dear...his own son..."

"It wasn't the boy's idea, Severus, it was ours - mine more specifically. I was the one at the wheel." Sirius, saint that he is, stepped forward boldly. 

"I suppose that makes it better, does it? And it's Professor Snape now, Sirius."

"My apologies, Snape, But, you can't just go threatening and insinuating-"

"Threatening? Insinuating? Enlighten me, when have I done anything of the sort?"

"Oh you snake, you know exactly what you are implying-"

"What? That the boy's father works for a branch of the Ministry that is equipped to deal with issues such as this? And how disappointed he'd have to be to charge his own son for misusing a muggle artifact and nearly exposing our world? A very serious and very punishable crime."

The venom delivered in that one word, punishable, coupled with the victorious smirk from Snape had Ron's shoulders hiking up to his ears. From beside him, Sirius' face turned to ice while his glare turned deadly, the kind Ron had seen wild dogs give their prey. "You filthy snake-"

"That will be quite enough Mr Black, Professor Snape." Ron's head, like everyone else's, whipped around to the entrance of Snape's office.

With a gentle and graceful stride, Professor Dumbledore glided into the office as his robes gently followed after him. Stepping in behind him came a tight lipped Professor McGonagall who paused momentarily as she took in the appearance of both Sirius and Remus. With a shake of her head, Professor McGonagall raised her wand and lit the once cold fireplace with warm flames.

"Sit." No need to be told twice, Ron raced for one of the uncomfortable looking chairs Professor McGonagall had gestured to.

Once all four, plus Snape, had taken a seat, Dumbledore continued. "Please, explain how this has come to be."

It was Remus who took on the task of explaining, from the closed barrier to the car ride and ending with their crash in the Whomping Willow. Even if Remus sat straight up, Ron noticed both him and Sirius avoiding the cold glare coming from McGonagall across the room. Remus even attributed the ownership of the car to himself, only mentioning the Weasley's to state they had been together for the holidays.

There was no doubt Dumbledore knew who the car really belonged to but, blessedly, he didn't ask anything more about the car. By the end of the explanation, when Ron thought there would be silence, Professor McGonagall instead asked "Why didn't you send an owl? You, Mr Potter, have one, don't you?"

That had Ron freezing in his seat, eyes going wide. That was a possibility? They could have just sent an owl?!

"We - we didn't think -" Harry stuttered.

"That," Professor McGonagall replied, tone ice cold. "Is obvious."

Ron shook his head as he rose from his seat. "I guess we'll go get our stuff." 

"What are you talking about, Mr Weasley?" Professor McGonagall's ire, now directed at Ron, had him shrinking under her fury.

"Well, you're expelling us aren't you?" Ron looked between the three teachers expectantly.

"Not today, Mr Weasley, as the fault lies with the adults present at the time." Dumbledore sagely replied. "But, I must impress upon all of you the seriousness of what has happened. Mr Black, I feel I do not need to iterate what is at stake for yourself."

Sirius lowered his head in shame as Dumbledore continued. "I will be writing to both of your families tonight. I must warn and advise you both, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter, to not follow in Mr Black and Mr Lupin's examples."

Both Ron and Harry quickly nodded in agreement while Snape looked like he'd been told a terrible tragedy had occurred. "Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the decree for the Restrictions of Underage Wizardry-"

"Severus," Dumbledore smoothly interrupted. "Where, in their explanation, did Mr Weasley and Mr Potter use magic outside of Hogwarts grounds?"

Ron had the immense pleasure of watching Snape, the Bat himself, stumble over his words. Ron could have danced for joy when the cretin nearly stuttered.

Snape tried to quickly compose himself as Snape found his footing. "Then they were a part of the act which caused considerable damage to a rare Whomping Willow. Surely that is enough-"

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishment, Severus." Dumbledore replied calmly. "They are in her house and are therefore her responsibility." Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious custard tart I wish to sample."

Snape shot a look of pure venom at all four of them before he allowed himself to sweep out of his office. Before he disappeared to follow Snape, Professor Dumbledore paused and turned back to them.

"You'll have to forgive my abrupt exit, Sirius, Remus, while I would love to stay and chat, I fear what will become of my desert if I wait too long. Professor McGonagall," The elderly witch raised her head. "Please escort Sirius and Remus to the Hogwarts Express or the nearest fireplace. I'm sure a bit of floo powder would do the trick."

With Snape and Dumbledore gone, Professor McGonagall turned her steely glare back to the four of them, which Sirius met with a smile. "It's good to see you again, Professor McGonagall. Been keeping well?"

Was that a twitch of a smile Ron spotted from their strict head of house? McGonagall replied, "I wish it were under better circumstances, Mr Black, Mr Lupin. Why is it that I find you two back and causing mischief for me a decade after your graduation?"

"Just got the knack for it, I suppose." Serius continued to give her his heart stopping smile.

With a shake of her head, Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and the fireplace extinguished itself. Turning to the shelves around the fireplace, she delicately picked up an ornate bowl.

"Come now," McGonagall gestured with her head. "Say your goodbyes and grab some floo powder."

Hugs and well wishes were given to Harry and Ron by Remus and Sirius, promising that they would explain to Ron's parents what had happened. When they approached the fireplace, both men gently hugged Professor McGonagall who hugged them with one arm. There were whispered words between them before the two waved to them and disappeared in bursts of emerald flames.

Ron spotted a glisten in Professor McGonagall's eyes before it was quickly gone and her hearty glare was back on them. "Now, you two-"

Harry was quick to interrupt. "Professor, when we took - I-I mean, when we crashed into the Whomping Willow, term hadn't started so- so Gryffindor shouldn't really lose any points."

Ron had to admire the nerves of steel Harry possessed to stand up to Professor McGonagall, even if he did spot a hint of a smile on her face.

"I will not take any points from Gryffindor." She said, "But, you will both get detention."

Ron could live with that. The main point that was eating at him was the letter to his parents. Even if Remus and Sirius sent their own letters, Mum was very quick to act before thinking.

Ron could only hope she would be only slightly upset by the letter.

Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets and a jug of pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.

"You will eat in here then go straight up to your dormitory." Professor McGonagall instructed. "I must also return to the feast."

When the door clicked shut and they could no longer hear footsteps, Ron let out a long and low whistle. He grabbed a sandwich from the plate. "I thought we'd had it there for a second."

"Same." Harry agreed while taking a bite of his own sandwich. "Lucky Sirius and Remus bailed us out."

"I wouldn't praise our luck so quickly." Ron said around a mouthful of another sandwich. "Fred and George must've flown that car a hundred times before and they've never been spotted by muggles. Begs another question though, why couldn't we get through the barrier?"

Harry shrugged. "No clue but, we'll have to be careful this year. Bet all the teachers will be monitoring us after this stunt." Ron watched as he took a gulp of pumpkin juice. "Wish we could have gone to the feast..."

Ron waved away his friend's concerns. "She didn't want us showing off. Doesn't want people to think it's clever to arrive by flying car with family members."

Ron watched as Harry blushed and mumbled the word family to himself before taking another bite of his sandwich. Once the plate and jug were both as empty as they could be (both kept refilling they soon realised) the two boys made their way to Gryffindor Tower.

It was eerily quiet in the long corridors and hallways, no students or chatter lingering about- the feast must be over. Together, they climbed up stone staircases, past muttering portraits and shiny suits of armour. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of walking, they came upon the secret corridor to the Gryffindor common room where the fat lady's portrait hung.

"Password?" She said as they approached.

Oh, come on. They hadn't been at the feast to learn the password! Just as Ron was lamenting spending a night sleeping in the hallway, help came for them, hair wild and bushy as ever.

"There you are!" Hermione called while racing up to them. "Where have you been?! The most ridiculous rumours - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car!"

"Well, we haven't been expelled." Harry assured her.

Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're not telling me you did fly here?"

"Don't worry about it, Mione, we can tell you the details later." Ron waved away her concerns, gesturing to the portrait behind them. "For now, do you know the password?"

"It's wattlebird," Hermione answered impatiently. "But that's not the point-"

Hermione was cut off when the portrait swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor house was still awake, packed into the circular common room; standing on lop-sided tables and squishy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached out of the portrait hole and wrapped around Ron and Harry, pulling them both in and leaving Hermion to scramble in behind them.

"Brilliant!" Yelled Lee Jordan from an armchair. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow! People'll be talking about that one for years!"

"Good on you!" Ron heard a fifth year he'd never met before praise.

More and more, the cacophony of voices and praise grew as Ron and Harry walked further into the common room. Fred and George shoved their way through until they both had an arm around each of Ron's. "Why couldn't you've called us back, eh? We would have come!"

Ron's face grew scarlet and, as he was about to answer them, a sharp jab in his ribs drew his attention to Harry. His friend nodded over to a group of first years where Percy could be seen glaring at them the way Mum does.

Oh shit, not good.

"Got to get upstairs - bit tired." Ron faked a yawn and a big stretch, pointedly ignoring Percy's glare.

"Night!" Harry called down to everyone from the spiral staircase that led to their dorm room, Ron waving down to Hermione who was still in the crowd.

When they managed to fall into their new, second year dorm room, Ron actually let a splitting yawn out. "I'm actually a bit tuckered out."

The two sat in silence for only a moment until Ron's face started feeling hot and he nervously scratched the back of his head. "I know I shouldn't have enjoyed that or anything but..."

This time Ron was cut off as their dorm room door flew open with a bang. In poured Seamus, Dean and Neville with wicked grins.

"Unbelievable!" Beamed Seamus.

"Cool." Dean nodded.

"Amazing." Neville praised.

When Ron looked over to Harry, his best friend was also smiling ear to ear.

The boys all stayed up to praise and congratulate them more, all three wanting the inside scoop on how they did it. Harry and Ron spun some mystical tale, vaguely describing a trick played to Harry's godfather and the stealing of the car. It was all in good fun and the boys seemed even more mystified by Harry and Ron than ever before.

When everyone had wandered off to bed, Ron quietly opened his trunk and retrieved a quill and small jug of ink. Quietly, by the light of the moon, Ron took out the little black book he'd been conversing with all summer.

Tom Riddle's diary.

'Hi Tom,' Ron wrote on the worn parchment pages. 'Sorry for not talking to you all day but, we just arrived at Hogwarts. The castle is still as cool as ever.'

Ron wasn't surprised anymore when the ink disappeared into the pages, bleeding and disappearing. Nor was he surprised when new writing appeared. 'That's wonderful news, Ron. I thought I could feel a shift in magical energy. Is the castle still as large as I remember?'

Ron subconsciously nodded while dipping his quill back in the ink. 'Yes, just getting to Gryffindor tower felt like a chore but, we're here now. I guess I'm looking forward to classes this year, I can't remember much of last year, honestly.'

Which was true, with all the information gathering on Nicholas Flamel and worrying about the philosopher's stone, Ron could barely remember how an actual class was conducted. 'You'll still talk to me, won't you? Even if your classes get super busy, you'll still write to me? I could show you some secrets of the castle I'm sure not even the teachers are aware of.'

The passage confused Ron as much as it intrigued him. Unknowingly, Ron felt compelled to answer in one way. 'Yes, of course I'll still talk with you.'

Under the light of the moon, Ron felt exposed and raw in a way that he never had before, as if the stars and sky were judging him. However, that was a fleeting thought and was quickly overruled by the feeling of need. There was an intense need to keep writing to Tom and the book, so strong it overpowered his whole being.

So strong it was that Ron barely noticed a shadow creeping over the light of the moon and blocking the soothing rays, encasing him in darkness. 

Chapter Text

The following morning, Ron felt like his mind was in two places at once. There was the part of him currently walking into the Great Hall for breakfast and part of him back in the tower. His mind wandered to his trunk where he had hidden the diary under the wizard chess set he'd brought along.

Why did he have to hide the book? Surely no one would bother with an old, worn and ratty book and yet Ron had felt compelled. Just as compelled as he felt to race back to the tower and continue talking to Tom Riddle.

What finally snapped Ron out of his musings and staring at his flavorless porridge was the screeching of owls. Turning his attention to the enchanted ceiling, Ron spotted the owls flying in and under the enchanted grey clouds and delivering letters and parcels. There was an almighty screech and a familiar grey lump crashed into Hermione's jug of milk, spraying milk and feathers on them all.

"Errol!" Ron snapped while dragging the barely functioning owl out of the jug by his dangling feet.

Dropping the decrepit owl, Errol landed on the long table with a wet plop. Clawed feet in the air and twitching to show he was still alive. That wasn't what worried Ron, the innocent red envelope that sat in Errol's beak had drawn all his attention.

"Oh no." Ron shrunk in on himself, willing the ground to swallow him whole.

"It's alright, he's still alive." Hermione said while poking Errol who barely twitched.

"It's not that." Ron waved away Hermione and pointed to the envelope. "It's that."

The innocent red envelope still held in Errol's beak.

"What's the matter?" Harry questioned with a tilt of his head.

"She sent me a howler, the special letter I told you about last year."

"You better open it, Ron." Ron almost jumped out of his skin. When did Neville get here? "It'll be worse if you don't. My Gran sent me one once, and I ignored it. It was horrible."

"So, it's enchanted to shout at you?" Ron ignored Harry's question in favour of focusing on the envelope which was now smoking at the edges.

"Open it." Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes...."

But that was a few minutes too long in Ron's opinion, but the smoke was getting worse and starting to burn at the edges. Stretching out a shaking hand, Ron gently took the envelope from Errol's beak and slit it open. Ron squeezed his eyes shut as a deafening roar sounded through the Great Hall, shaking dust from the ceiling as the envelope floated out of his hands.

"RONALD WESLEY! I DON'T CARE WHAT REMUS AND SIRIUS HAVE SAID, I KNOW YOU WERE INVOLVED IN STEALING THAT CAR! YOU AND HARRY! I AM ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS! YOU ARE BEYOND LUCKY THAT THE MINISTRY DIDN'T QUESTION YOUR FATHER!"

Mum's voice echoed horribly in the Great Hall, Ron had put his arms awkwardly over his head from the fright of the shout. All around other students had ducked or jumped from fright or, like Neville and Harry, were covering their ears. Ron could even spot some of the floating candles flickering from the force of the shout.

"....LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT! I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, ALL FOUR OF YOU COULD HAVE DIED!"

For a magic castle, it sure wasn't doing anything to help him escape the pure humiliation Ron was feeling while slowly sinking below the table.

".....IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME! I DO NOT WANT A REPEAT OF LAST YEAR AND THAT TROLL!"

Deafening silence filled the Great Hall as the letter fell onto the mahogany table, burnt to ashes and vanished. Ron felt like his very soul was shaking along with the rest of his body. A few people laughed and chatter started to bubble up again, returning the Hall to its lively buzz.

Hermione closed a thick book she had been reading ( Voyage with Vampires Ron noted), Ron could feel her gaze on him.

"Well," she started and Ron felt his mood sinking lower. "I don't know what you expected, Ron, but, you-"

"That's enough, Hermione." Ron's head snapped up at Percy's voice. His older brother put a heavy hand on Ron's shoulder, strong but soothing. "The message is clear enough, there's no need to iterate the point further."

Hermione quickly closed her mouth and Percy, with a stern glare given to him, was quick to move up the Gryffindor table. Ron's guilt continued to churn in his stomach, appetite quickly vanishing. He had no appetite once Professor McGonagall came gliding down the table, handing out timetables as she went.

At the top of their day was double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, not a bad start to the term but would have been better without the howler. Ron quickly left the Great Hall with Harry and Hermione, the three of them making their way to the Greenhouses.

Across the castle grounds and past the vegetable patch for the magical plants that resided on and around the castle grounds was where the Greenhouses sat. At least the howler and Percy had managed to curb Hermione's usual badgering, content to walk peacefully with Ron and Harry to class.

As they neared the Greenhouses, Ron spotted the rest of their class waiting outside for Professor Sprout. Their trio had only just joined when Professor Sprout came striding into view, across the lawn, with Gilderoy Lockhart trailing after her. The blond idiot had that dumb smile on and his robes in pristine condition while Sprout looked like she'd gone three rounds and lost to the ground.

Her arms were full of bandages and a shaking from behind her drew Ron's gaze to the Whomping Willow. A few of the branches had slings, the branches shaking and rattling.

"Oh, hello there!" Lockhart called out as they approached the spread out students, beaming as he did. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happened to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels-"

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" Professor Sprout loudly interrupted Lockhart, looking disgruntled at the blond and not her usual cheerful self.

A murmur of interest rose up from everyone. They'd never been allowed in Greenhouse three last year, mainly because it housed a lot of dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Ron scrunched his nose up at the scent of damp earth and fertilizer, the smell reminding him of Mum's garden at home.

Giant plants hung from the ceiling pumping sweet smelling perfume into the air which mixed horribly with the fertilizer. Ron definitely wouldn't be getting close to that hanging plant though, not if he wanted to be grabbed by a Venomous Tentacula. As Ron stepped over the threshold of the door, a voice called out from behind them.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word - You don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?" Lockhart called out, hand already clapped over Harry's shoulder.

Ummm, yes? Ron would mind? Harry was one of the few people keeping him sane and he wanted to share a table with him and Hermione. Professor Sprout didn't look too happy about this either but, before they could do anything, Lockhart continued. "That's the ticket!"

With a surprised thump the door was closed in Professor Sprout's face, separating Ron from his best friend.

"Oh, that Lockhart, never mind." Professor Sprout huffed while dumping the bandages in a box next to the teachers desk. "Everyone, to the benches! You'll find a pair of gardening gloves and a trowel at each station, please raise your hand if you do not have these items."

"Come on, Ron." Hermione quietly called, the two of them moving deeper into the classroom. The two of them snagged a spot in the middle of the benches, both placing their few books on the space between them - a spot for Harry. As was usual, the Gryffindor's crowded on one side while the Hufflepuffs gathered on the other side.

"Wonderful. I'll hand out your soil now. If you need more, there is plenty to go around." Professor Sprout called out, bags of soil floating in the air and landing beside everyone, there appeared to be two students for everyone one bag.

"Coats next, quickly now!" Everyone scrambled to grab a brown cloth coat from their bench. "I'd have thought you all would have remembered basic instructions from last year."

Ron knew the castle had house elves, how could it not with how large everything was and how many students attended. Yet, no matter how many times these coats were washed, there always seemed to be dirt on them. It was the first day of term and already Ron could see long streaks of dirt stained on the brown fabric.

At least the dirt blended in with the brown, probably an intentional choice on the school's part.

While they were all buttoning up their coats, Professor Sprout floated twenty terracotta pots over to her own workbench. A deep tray was then placed on her bench with little tufts of green poking out that Ron could barely see.

The door to Greenhouse three slid open and in slipped Harry just after Professor Sprout had produced about twenty pairs of earmuffs on her bench. Ron subtly waved Harry over who was quick to make his way to the bench he and Hermione had saved. As Harry was buttoning up his own coat, Professor Sprout explained their lesson for today.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today." Professor Sprout explained. "Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

There were no surprises when Hermione's hand shot up into the air. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative. It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed, to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor." Said Professor Sprout while Ron gave Hermione a thumbs-up. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Can anyone tell me why?"

Once again, Hermione's hand was up in the air, the answer out of her mouth before she had been called on. "The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Precisely , take another ten points. While I love the enthusiasm, Miss Granger, please answer when I call on you next time." Hermione's nose turned a bit scarlet as she nodded and apologised.

"Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young." At Professor Sprout's gesture, everyone moved towards the deep trays to see the Mandrakes.

Ron easily peered over Harry and Dean's heads, urging a shorter Hufflepuff in front of him so she could see, and spotted the tufts of green. A hundred or so of the little tufts sat in the tray, some starting to develop a purple hue to their leaves.

Ron had only heard of the Mandrake's cry in passing from Mum, quiet whispers about screeching Mandrakes. They couldn't be that bad....Right?

"Everyone, take a pair of earmuffs." Professor Sprout gestured to the twenty on the table and everyone scrambled for one. Harry was one of the few to end up with a black pair while Hermione and Ron donned fluffy pink. "When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you a thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on."

Ron snapped the earmuffs over his ears, the sound of the classroom falling completely silent to him; the only sound he could hear now was his distant breathing and heartbeat. Professor Sprout snapped her own pair of earmuffs on, rolled up her sleeves, and grabbed one of the tufty tops and pulled hard.

Ron felt his mouth drop open in shock when the plant was pulled up from the tray. A small, muddy and extremely baby-looking plant popped out of the soil.

The root, or 'body', looked wrinkled and warped, like the ginger or turmeric Ron used while cooking. Where its hands and feet would have been were short and thin traditional plant roots. Growing from the top of its head were the tufts, the leaves.

But it was the face that made Ron's own face bunch up in disgust. The wrinkled face was bunched up and its mouth was open, no doubt letting out a piercing cry and bawling at having been removed from the soil.

Professor Sprout took one of the terracotta pots from the table and plunged the Mandrake into the pre-prepared compost and soil. Swiftly and efficiently, Professor Sprout re-potted the Mandrake until only its green and purplish leaves were visible above the soil. Professor Sprout dusted off her gloves, gave them all a thumbs-up and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill, yet." Professor Sprout reassured them, which didn't make Ron feel any better. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray - compost is beside you - and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."

Professor Sprout gave a well meaning slap to the creeping vines behind her which quickly retracted, as did the ones Ron didn't notice creeping closer to everyone else.

Ron easily paired up with Harry and Hermione, that was a given, but a Hufflepuff boy none of them had interacted with before made his way to their group. He was a curly haired boy that Ron had seen in passing but had never talked with.

"Justin Finch-Fletchly." The boy greeted happily, shaking Harry's hand enthusiastically. Ron glanced at Hermione with a raised eyebrow who silently sighed and shrugged. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter....and you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything!"

Justin proceeded to, just as vigorously, shake Hermione's hand who was beaming at the boy. Ron was expecting the usual question of 'who are you?' When Justin turned to him, instead Ron was shocked when his hand was also shook. "And you're Ron Weasley, wasn't that your flying car?"

Ron winced a little and gave a sheepish nod, happy at least to be known as something other than 'the boy following Harry and Hermione' or 'that kid from the Peter Pettigrew case'.

"That Lockhart's something isn't he." Justin happily said as they started filling their pots with dragon dung compost. Bet Charlie would have loved it, Charlie loved any and all things dragon. "Awfully brave chap, have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone box by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just fantastic."

Ron rolled his eyes and elected not to indulge in any talk involving Lockhart. The guy was a tosser in Ron's humble opinion and needed to be taken down a peg or two. Didn't seem like he had much going on between the ears either.

"My name was down for Eaton, you know," what was that? Harry and Hermione seemed to know, must be a muggle thing. Ron made a mental note to ask Hermione later. "I can't tell you how glad I am that I came here instead. Of course, mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family..."

Justin didn't have much chance to continue talking as Professor Sprout gave the shout for earmuffs to go on. The silence was back and so were the screaming, ugly, baby-looking Mandrakes.

Professor Sprout made this look too easy. Ron had to nearly yank the blighters out of the soil only for the ugly thing to flail and scream when Ron tried to bury it in a new pot! Ron was thankful for the thick gardening gloves when one of the little roots decided to chomp on his finger.

By the end of class, Ron, like everyone else, was hot, sweaty, sore and covered in soil. Looking down at himself, Ron felt the intense need for a bath, the dirt had somehow gotten in his gloves and under his fingernails.

"How much further." Ron whined as they climbed another flight of stairs, arms weak and hanging by his side.

"Come on, Ron, stop it." Harry gently knocked his own floppy arm into his. "We all want a shower."

"Stupid dirt, stupid Mandrakes. How does anyone find that relaxing?" Ron continued to grumble all the way to the tower, only stopping once he was under the warm spray of water.

Once everyone was clean, the trio rushed off to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall's classes were always a challenge, requiring concentration that Ron could barely keep on a good day. Today was a so-so day, not great but not bad either. Everyone was given a beetle with the instruction to turn it into a button, or more if you could manage.

Ron had snagged Harry's arm and the two took their seats together. Hermione partnered up with Lavender Brown across from them.

This was the first time Ron would be using his new wand properly, not just pretending with Harry when they were up in his bedroom together at the Burrow. Ron took a deep breath and flicked his wand.

The beetle scuttled across the bench when it saw his wand coming close which resulted in a hastily slapped hand to the table - an attempt to catch the bug. Humiliated, and a little disgusted, Ron raised his hand in the air after putting his wand down.

"Yes, Mr Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked, coming over to their table.

Ron shamefully opened his hand with the squashed bug. "I need a new beetle, please."

Professor McGonagall's mouth thinned but she still floated a new beetle over to Ron. "Try not to squish it this time, Mr Weasley. I want to see buttons only."

"Yes, Professor." Ron replied while wiping his hand on the table leg. 

Unfortunately, class didn't improve from there. Neither Ron or Harry were able to transfigure their beetles into buttons. Harry got close, one of the beetle's legs melding with its body but it didn't last and it was back to scuttling around the table. By the end of class, Ron was thoroughly disappointed with himself, no buttons to show off or write home about.

Ron was trying to focus on his notes at lunch, trying to see where he might have gone wrong during class. His incantation was fine and the wand movements seemed to match with what he'd written down-

"You've got the wrong movement written down." Ron startled at Hermione's voice as her finger poked at his notebook.

"What?" Ron intelligently replied.

"At the beginning of the movement, you've put down that you flick to the right, you're meant to flick downwards." Hermione explained as Ron squinted at his notes.

Sure enough, Ron had written the wrong movement down. "Oh…how did I miss that?"

"You weren't paying attention, obviously." Hermione grumbled.

"I was so!" He wasn't, that was a lie. All throughout the day, Ron had felt split like he had since breakfast. Their quick trip back to the tower hadn't helped at all and had, in fact, made the feeling worse .

It was like something was pulling him back towards the tower, back to the diary, getting stronger the longer he stayed away. Ron had no idea why, only that his attention was divided and it was only the first day of school.

"What've we got this afternoon?" Harry asked, easily distracting Hermione who ran her finger over her timetable.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." She quickly answered, her nose turning slightly pink.

Ron raised his eyebrow and tilted his head to peer at her timetable which she was hunched over.

"Why have you outlined all of Lockhart's lessons with little hearts?" Ron demanded, pointing to the offending time slot that had little pink hearts drawn on the paper.

Hermione's face flushed the darkest red Ron had ever seen as she hastily packed up her books and timetable.

The trio finished lunch and made their way outside, passing Fred and George who both playfully jabbed at the three of them. Shoving his brothers away, the trio found a spot next to some stone steps to relax under the cloudly sky.

"So, who are the Quidditch teams again?" Harry asked, leaning back against the stone steps wall.

"There's so many, mate." Ron replied while putting the soles of his feet against Hermione's who was reading Voyages with Vampires again. "In just England alone?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, let's start with that."

"Well, there's my favourite team, the Chuddly Cannons who never win anything but they will one year! There's the Holyhead Harpies who're amazing. They're a team made of only witches and they kick ass!" Ron beamed at Harry, listing the team's on his fingers. "Then there's the Appleby Arrows, the Ballycastle Bats, the Turtshill Tornados who, by the way, once won the League Cup five years in a row!"

"And that's good?" Harry asked with a grin. 

"And that's good." Ron playfully mocked with a smile. "It's bloody brilliant is what it is! It was Quidditch history at the time! Never done or seen before-"

"Are you alright?" Ron flicked his head up to Harry who was turned away from him and facing the courtyard.

Following his best friend's line of sight, Ron spotted a boy with a camera in hand, one that Ron had seen the Daily Prophet reporters using. The boy was small, definitely a first year, with mousy-brown hair and staring at Harry in a daze, almost like he was bewitched. As soon as Harry spoke, the boy went bright red.

"Alright, Harry? I - I'm great! Yes, I'm - I'm Colin Creevey." He said breathlessly, taking a small step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think - would it be alright if - can I have a picture?" Colin said, raising his camera up.

"A picture?" Ron and Harry said at the same time. Ron shivered a little, being reminded of Fred and George with their doublespeak.

"So I can prove I met you." Colin explained eagerly, taking another step forward. "I know all about you, everyone's told me. About how you survived when You Know Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead."

Ron saw Colin's eyes rake over Harry's forehead and he stood up, not wanting to let Harry be gawked at any long - no matter how innocent it may be. Ron took his place on the step in front of Harry, he was tall enough that he was almost level height with Harry even while on the lower step. 

Even with Ron as a barrier, Colin still surged on. "A boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move. It's brilliant here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So, I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him and it'd be really good if I had one of you."

Colin must have had lungs of steel to say all of that while barely taking any breaths. Colin glanced at Ron, which got him a raised eyebrow, then to Hermione who was still nose deep in her book. "Maybe your friends could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" Oh, come on, as if this day couldn't get worse.

Ron rolled his eyes as Malfoy strolled up behind Colin and loudly shouted his misunderstanding for all to hear. Crabbe and Goyle were, as always, flanked behind Malfoy like two useless statues, only there to be intimidating.

"Everyone queue up!" Malfoy roared to the starting-to-gather crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not." Harry grit out between clenched teeth. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous." Colin piped up from in front of Ron.

Look, you had to admire the kid for standing up to the three when his whole body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck but now was not the time. The crowd was slowly starting to grow as Malfoy continued to shout.

"Jealous?" Malfoy scoffed. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special."

"Jeez, you're right, Malfoy. Guess being the youngest seeker in Gryffindor history is pretty special though." Ron piped up, all heads snapping to him. "Not to mention catching the snitch in your first official game. You don't know what that's like, do you, Malfoy?"

"Shut up, Weasley." Malfoy sneered. "You'd be begging for a signed photo, it'd be worth more than your whole house!"

Ron's brain shut off, hand flying to his pocket for his wand but, before he could pull it out another hand had clamped around his. Looking down, Hermione had closed Voyages with Vampires and was starting to climb to her feet.

"Look out." Hermione whispered, nodding over to a quickly approaching figure.

"What's all this? What's all this?" Oh great, Gilderoy Lockhart was here to ruin the fight with his airheaded attitude. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Ron stepped forward. "No one, Professor. Malfoy was-"

"Ah! Shouldn't have asked, we meet again, Harry!" Lockhart, not gently at all, moved Ron to the side and wrapped his arm around Harry who looked mortified at the attention.

On the bright side, with the appearance of a Professor, the crowd was starting to wander back to where they came from. The only ones lingering were those trying to get a good look at Lockhart - mainly witches.

"Come on then, Mr Creevey," Lockhart beamed. "A double portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll both sign it for you."

Colin stumbled for his camera before Ron reached out to stop him. "Professor, let Colin join the photo too, please. He'll send it back to his dad, I think it'd be better if his dad could see Colin too."

Ron ignored the beam from Colin and the exasperated sigh from Harry as he focused on Lockhart. The Professor didn't answer immediately, instead his face twitched ever so slightly before he was beaming again. "Right you are, lad. Come then, Creevey, join up."

Colin looked like Christmas had come early as he all but shoved his camera into Ron's arms and sprinted for the other side of Harry. Ron took a step back, looking down at the camera for a second before looking over to Hermione.

"Mione, would you mind?" Ron sheepishly asked.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stepped up and showed Ron how to hold the device and what button to press. With a loud flash, the picture was taken just as the bell rang, Colin profusely thanking Ron, Hermione and Harry as he raced off. With the bell rung, the crowd started to wander off, Lockhart shooing the stragglers off to class and taking Harry under his arm.

Seemed Lockhart was blind to Ron and Hermione who were having to jog to keep up with the two. Ron could hear Lockhart muttering to Harry about taking photos and handing out autographs. Something about starting off his career?

That was dumb, Ron and Harry had decided that Harry would be the best seeker in the world, duh . They'd been brainstorming over the holidays how he could be faster on his broom while trying to catch a snitch.

Amazingly, and much to Ron's surprise, Lockhart had led them to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom without any issue. Ron was sure he would get lost or side tracked by a mirror or shiny piece of armour.

When they finally entered the classroom, Harry all but tore himself away from Lockhart and sat down, head on the desk, at the back of the classroom. Ron and Hermione were quick to join him, taking a place on either side of the red faced boy.

"You alright there, Harry? You look like you could cook an egg on your face." Ron gently held the back of his hand to Harry's forehead only to have his friend slap it away.

Instead of answering, Harry raised his still flaming face and started piling his books up on the desk making a little wall between him and Lockhart's gaze. Ron joined in, adding his own copies to the wall until they had an uneven barrier blocking the blond Professor from view. Hermione elected to ignore their wall making, instead she hid her own pink cheeks in the pages of her book.

The rest of the class eventually poured in, everyone taking their seats while Lockhart beamed from the teachers desk. Once everyone was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly to cut through the general chatter, everyone falling silent. Lockhart reached forward and grabbed Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls and held it up to show his winking portrait.

"Me," Lockhart said, winking while pointing to the portrait. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" 

He paused, waiting for a laugh, only a few people gave weak smiles. "I see you've all brought a complete set of my books - Well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in..."

So Ron was done for then, he hadn't read any of them. They all looked boring! Not to mention insane, no one could have done all this stuff, not unless you were Dumbledore maybe.

When Lockhart came around and handed out the test papers, Ron felt silly for thinking this would be a normal test.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

Ron flipped over the test and scoffed at each and every question even managing an eye roll at the final question.

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?

Ron could care less about any of this and, in protest, filled out anything that came to his mind. Giving up halfway through the test, Ron flipped the paper to the back and started doodling. Halfway through his drawing of Lockhart being eaten by a yeti, the man himself came back around and gathered the tests.

Standing up front again, Lockhart rifled through the papers, shaking his head as he went.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with a Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wandering with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magical and non-magical people - though, I wouldn't say no to a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!" Ron, again, rolled his eyes at this.

If Lockhart really wanted harmony between all, he should do something about it rather than writing about it. Lockhart gave a wink to the class and Ron silently gagged while Dean and Seamus, who were sitting in front of them, were silently laughing.

"...but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition was to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl!" Ron noticed how Hermione jumped at the praise. "In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hand trembling, Hermione raised her hand in the air as her nose dusted with pink again.

"Excellent!" Beamed Lockhart. "Just excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business..."

Lockhart went under the desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto the surface.

"Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind!" Ron sat up a little straighter at Lockhart's exclamation. "You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Ron, like Harry, peered around the wall of books they had made to see what was under the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing and Ron spotted Neville cowering in his seat up the front.

"I must ask you not to scream." Lockhart said in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

The tension in the class could be cut with a knife and, in one swift flick, Lockhart ripped the cover off the cage.

"Yes." Lockhart said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies!"

Within the cage, fluttering around, were little Cornish pixies, all of them about eight inches high and sporting electric blue skin. Their annoyingly high voices had Ron wincing, especially when they started banging on the cage and rattling the bars. Seamus couldn't help himself, snorting with laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream.

"Yes?" Lockhart smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus was snorting in between breaths.

"Don't be so sure!" Lockhart wagged his finger at Seamus. "Devilish, tricky little blighters they can be!"

"Right then!" Lockhart called with a smile. "Let's see what you make of them!"

And, to Ron's horror, he opened the cage.

Ron had never seen a classroom go from organized to pandemonium in such a short time.

Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several of them shot forward and attacked students by tugging on their hair, Harry ended up grabbing one of his books and smacking a pixie that had Hermione's hair. More of them ran rampant through the classroom, shattering glass and shredding books like no tomorrow.

In no time at all, Neville was stuck swinging from the dragon skeleton that hung from the ceiling and Ron had armed himself with one of Lockhart's books, like Harry.

"Come now! Round them up, round them up! They're only pixies!" Lockhart, the blond prick, shouted above the chaos, doing nothing to help.

Ron was too busy defending himself from the blue blighters to even think about spells - not like they knew any that would help. That would require, oh right, teaching them something!

Ron spotted Lockhart taking out his wand, starting to shout a spell before the pixies seized his wand. The flying menaces laughed as they swished the wand around, sparks flying from the top as they did.

"Right, well," Lockhart shakily called out while retreating up the steps to the teachers room. "I'm sure you all have this handled - AH!" Lockhart managed to avoid a pixie aiming for his head and locked himself in the teachers room.

That cowardly prick!

"Can you believe him!" Ron swatted at a pixie that just bit his ear, smacking it to the ground.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience." Hermione said while managing to freeze two of them and throwing them into the cage.

"Hands on?" Harry sarcastically called while trying to grab a pixie from Parvati's hair. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing!"

"Rubbish." Hermione said while watching Neville swing ominously. "You've read his books - Look at all those amazing things he's done...."

"He says he's done." Ron muttered while wrangling two pixies into the cage with Dean.

Neville let out a scream as the skeleton he was stuck on creaked and wobbled from its thick hook on the ceiling. Ron gasped as the skeleton wobbled again, the jaw falling down and jolting Neville.

"Oh, enough of this!" Hermione shouted, wand in hand. "Immobulus!"

All at once the pixies ceased moving, floating in the air like terrible dust particles. Ron, Harry, Dean and Seamus ran under Neville just as the boy fell, landing on them all.

Ron groaned as Neville finally crawled off all the boys, freeing them.

"You alright, Ron?" Harry panted while holding a hand out to him.

Ron groaned and used Harry's hand to crawl to his feet. "Ask me again when Lockhart is fired."

The day continued on, some of their classmates (Neville) ending up in the hospital wing thanks to Lockhart's "lesson". By dinner, Ron was wrung out, sick of Lockhart and just wanted to eat his dinner in peace.

Which of course meant he got into an argument with Hermione over Lockhart's teaching methods.

"He's an imbecile, Mione. I mean, really, I bet you know more than him and could teach the class." Ron grumbled while scooping up some potatoes onto his plate to pair with the roast pork.

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and pouting. "You're just saying that. As I've repeatedly stated, Lockhart's books prove his credentials. Just look at all he's done!"

"Books can lie." Ron proclaimed and the gasp Hermione let out, you would have thought a family member had died.

"How dare you even suggest that! Why would he write about those adventures if he was lying!"

"Did you see him do it?" Ron raised his eyebrow and Hermione scoffed.

"Of course I didn't-"

"Does he say anyone else saw him do these things?"

"No, but-"

"Then it's totally plausible that it didn't happen." Ron shrugged, taking a bite of some veggies. "Simple."

Hermione grumbled more. "By that logic, everything we did last year wasn't real either."

"Sure it was because we all were there. All three of us saw it and that means we have the same story so, boom, there."

Ron's smile turned into a wicked grin as Hermione huffed again and turned back to her own dinner, flicking a pea at him as she did. So Ron did the logical thing and threw a full snow pea at her. Which got him a carrot to the face and a giggle from Hermione.

Ron was gearing up to launch a spoon of gravy at Hermione when Harry came sprinting up to them and shrinking behind Ron, occasionally peeking down the table.

"Uhh, you right mate?" Ron asked as Harry's head peeked out again.

"Shhhh!" Harry harshly whispered while grabbing some of Ron's pork to eat. "Don't look at me. I'm hiding."

Ron met Hermione's bewildered expression and both asked at the same time, "From who?"

"Wood. I think he's gone mental." Harry nodded down the table with his head and Ron followed his line of sight.

Down the long table, sitting with Percy, was Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. While Percy was happily reading one of his textbooks, Oliver was busy fiddling with something on his plate. Peering over the heads of his housemates, Ron was almost amazed at what he saw.

Oliver had built a mini Quidditch pitch out of his dinner, with mushroom caps to represent the goals and various olives and bits of carrot to represent the players. Ron could almost hear the intense muttering from where he was sitting as Oliver moved the pieces of food around.

"I think you'll be fine, Harry." Ron said as he sat back down, Hermione sitting up to peer at Oliver. "Without permission, you can't have Quidditch practice during the week. Gives you some days to stay out of his way."

"I agree with Fred and George, I think Oliver would marry his broom if he could."

Dinner continued and ended with Ron and Hermione doing their best to keep Harry out of Oliver's direct line of sight. When the trio reached the tower, Hermione was eager to make a start on her homework which both Ron and Harry were firmly against.

"It's our first day back." Harry waved off Hermione as he and Ron made their way up to their dorm. "We can start on the weekend."

"Fine, but you'll regret waiting." Hermione called to them, heading up to her own dorm.

Which, sure, they might regret leaving their homework for the weekend but, it was their first day back! Ron just wanted to fall into bed and pass out. Harry was in full agreement as he hit his bed and was out like a light.

Ron, meanwhile, waited up to make sure Harry was really asleep before quietly opening his trunk and pulling out the diary. Grabbing his wand and a quill, Ron went to the bay window and began writing, casting lumos for more light.

Hi Tom,

First day is down and already things are going wrong. Our DADA teacher is an idiot, I know he is! He says he's done all these amazing things but he couldn't even round up some pixies! He's the worst and that's saying something.

As the ink seeped into the page, Ron felt a sense of contentment settle over him. His shoulders loosened, body relaxing and all felt right as the ink fully disappeared. No sooner had the ink vanished then a response was appearing before Ron.

Hi Ron,

I remember my own DADA teacher was never great, my potions professor, however, was most useful. Have you had a chance to explore the grounds? As I told you, I know of many places one can get around the grounds with.

Ron shouldn't, he really shouldn't. The twins got up to enough mischief on a good day and Ron was already on thin ice with Mum. If she found out he was sneaking around the castle it would be all over.

Ron's quill hovered over the page, ready to write that he didn't need to hear anything more but his hand stopped. A feeling pressed on his chest, lightly at first until it felt like the weight of a dragon curling around his heart. The very thought of not writing to Tom for the rest of the night stirred something awful through Ron's being.

With shaking hands, almost as if in a trance, Ron wrote his reply. ' Sure, tell me what you know about the castle.'

It was not the reply Ron wanted to write, he didn't even know why he had, but the damage was done and Tom was writing again. Ron continued to write well into the night, yet that little coil around his heart never left. Instead, it seemed to settle and nestle itself into him.

Ron's dreams that night were not anything significant, just pages of a diary filling up as a snake slithered over the pages. When Ron woke the next day, he could almost feel that same snake slithering just under his skin. 

Chapter Text

The rest of the week continued but with some dreadfully unhelpful new additions than last year. For starters, Harry was so against Lockhart (not that Ron blamed him) that they were always ducking out of the professor's line of sight. Second to that was Harry's new #1 fan, Colin Creevey who seemed to have a Harry radar on him, always knowing where he was.

What didn't help either was the camera Colin always carried going off whenever Harry came into view. It was obviously grating on poor Harry's nerves and Colin was not getting the memo. However, unlike the  Lockhart situation, Ron could actually do something about the Colin situation.

If Colin didn't pick up a hint by Saturday, Ron would be having a chat with Colin about personal space and boundaries. No one likes to have a camera shoved in their face all day.....except maybe Lockhart.

While Harry was dodging people, Ron was trying to improve his wand skills. Last year was fine, Charlie's wand served its purpose, but now Ron had a wand of his own - one that chose him. He'd practiced a few spells with Hermione in between classes but something was wrong.

According to Hermione, his attention was too divided - He wasn't focusing and, as a result, his spells weren't as powerful or effective as they could be. Like on Friday, they were in Charms class with Professor Flitwick, practicing the cheering charm. While Hermione's went off without a hitch, as was expected, Ron could barely make her smile with his.

"What's got you so distracted, Ron?" Hermione had asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know." Ron replied while picking at the wood on his desk.

"That's not an answer."

"Yeah, well, it's the best one I've got."

"Well, you better figure it out. Your spells will never improve if you're distracted, especially your charms-"

"I know, I know!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth, pausing to take a deep breath and holding his hands up in apology. "I'll figure it out just, stop hounding me, please."

Hermione, thankfully, dropped it but not without a well meaning pout. For the rest of class the two worked together on Ron's cheering charm, eventually making Hermione let out a giggle. Their teamwork afforded them five points each to Gryffindor so, at least that was something good.

Friday continued on, not much better than it had started and Ron was beyond thankful when the last bell rang. At least now, Ron could relax- tomorrow being Saturday and his first sleep in of the term.

The trio were making their way to dinner together, when Ron called out. "I'll meet up with you both in the Hall, just gotta go to the loo."

Both waved as he walked off and Ron split down another corridor. He was heading to the bathrooms by the Entrance Hall when a calming feeling washed over his body. Between one breath and the next, Ron had gone from the long corridors of Hogwarts to.....well, nothing.

To put it simply, Ron felt at peace. What was that muggle expression Harry and Hermione used? Floating on nine clouds? They explained to him it meant you were super happy which was the only way Ron could describe this feeling.

He was floating on nine clouds for what felt like an eternity until he was shaken out of it by a giant and gentle hand to his shoulder. "Ye' right there, Ron?"

Blinking away the white fog from his mind, Ron was startled to see Hagrid of all people in front of him. "Ah, fine, Hagrid." Ron blinked. "A-and yourself?"

"Can't complain." Hagrid replied, tilting his head back at his hut....when did Ron get to Hagrid's hut? "Jus' tendin' ter the pumpkins."

Ron peeked around Hagrid's large body and spotted extra large pumpkins, still on the vine, growing beautifully in Hargrid's garden.

"They look great, Hagrid." Ron nodded, head swiveling around to look at the darkened area. "Umm, you wouldn't happen to know the time, would you?"

"Well, I rek'n it's 'bout time fer dinner. Come on then, I'll lead ya back ter the Hall."

"Thanks, Hagrid." Ron gave a strained smile, looking away from the friendly giant and focusing back on the path back to the castle. How did he get so far away?

"What were ya doin' so far from the castle, Ron?" Hagrid curiously asked, giant hand gently on his back and leading him towards the Entrance Hall.

Ron would also like to know why he was so far away. One moment he's about to enter the toilets and the next, he's outside with Hagrid next to him...that doesn't just happen.

"Just got a bit lost." Ron settled on. "Wound up outside and figured it'd be best to find you."

"Well, it's fortunate yer did. Been needin' ter speak with yer."

"Really? About what?" 

"The centaurs." Hagrid answered as they came to the Entrance Hall. "They're tellin' me tha' Mars's impatient. She's gettin' all huffy an' wants ter see her favourite person again."

That brought a smile to Ron's face. "I'll make sure to come down this weekend then, can you let the centaurs know, please? I still remember the code too! Three knocks on the forest trees."

"Course I can." Hagrid replied with his own smile. "I'll let em' know ter expect ya."

"Thank you, Hagrid!" Ron called as he dashed back inside, making a stop to the toilets as he did.

When he finally made it to the Great Hall, it looked like dinner was starting to wind down. Along the Gryffindor table, Ron spotted Harry and Hermione's head's swiveling around like birds. From beside them, Fred poked Harry and pointed down to where Ron was making his way over.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked as he scooted down next to Fred, a gap now between him and Hermione which Ron took. "We thought you'd knocked yourself out in the toilets."

"Ha ha, so funny." Ron rolled his eyes, grabbing a ladle and serving himself some pea and ham soup. "I met up with Hagrid and we got to talking, that's all. By the way, we should visit Mars this weekend and Hagrid while we're at it, say thank you for helping you back in Diagon Alley." Ron poked Harry playfully in the chest getting a playful swat for his actions.

"You're sure that's it?" Fred asked from behind Harry.

"No trolls coming in to sweep you off your feet again?" George startled Ron as he leant on Ron's head with crossed arms.

"Geroff! And where did you come from!? I'm fine, I was just talking to Hagrid."

Fred and George shared a look before their smiles stretched into Cheshire grins. "Whatever you say, Ronnikins."

With a hair ruffle, the two were off to only the ghosts know where with a skip in their step. Rolling his eyes, Ron finished the last of his dinner and quickly stole some ice cream for the road, snagging three spoons as he did.

Ron shared his desert with Harry and Hermione, which is incredibly hard to do while walking up moving stairs. Ron was too unsteady with the bowl, so much so that Hermione used the levitating charm to keep it steady for them all. By the time the ice cream was finished, the trio were making their way through the portrait hole and into the cozy common room.

The common room was a buzz of noise, people cheering, giggling and whispering to each other around the notice board.

"What's going on?" Ron asked his two best friends, not expecting an answer.

Even not expecting one, Ron still received an answer from Colin Creevey who was all smiles and buzzing like a bee. "Alright, Harry? Hullo you two. It's on the notice board, a common room sleepover! At the end of October!"

"Thanks Colin." Harry deadpanned to the younger boy while shifting his way behind Ron.

"We're actually doing that? I thought it was just an idea from last year, nothing more." Hermione whispered, books being held tight to her chest.

"Apparently, it got approved by Professor McGonagall!" Colin answered again, moving around Ron to wave at Harry who half heartedly waved back, one hand gripping Ron's robes.

As Ron shepherded Harry under his arm, between Hermione and himself, away from Colin, Percy made his way over - having overheard the conversation.

"Colin is right, it's all been approved. You don't have to participate if you don't want to, but it would be nice to have most of the house come." Percy explained. "There will be a security charm in place, to keep people in line, and lights out as usual but, otherwise; there will be mattresses for people to share and plenty of space for everyone - Professor McGonagall assured me."

Ron nodded, a smile forming on his face. "I can't believe house sleepovers are actually going to be a thing now."

"You better believe it, you were the one who came up with the idea." Percy said with no small amount of pride.

"So, end of October, right?" Ron asked, which Percy confirmed with a nod tacking on it would be after the Halloween Feast. "Great! Then, we'll be there. Night, Percy. Night, Hermione. Night Colin!" Ron called while pushing Harry up the stairs and away from Colin's overbearing presence.

That talk Ron was thinking about having with Colin? Definitely will be happening now. It was not ok to be that obsessive and in someone's face when they clearly didn't want it.

"Thanks for the save, Ron." Harry called while pulling on his pajamas.

Ron shrugged off the thanks, slipping into his own pajamas. "No need to thank me, mate. What's a best friend for."

With the two changed and snug in bed, Ron did what he had been doing all of this week - waiting for Harry to drift off to sleep so he could write in the diary. When Harry's breathing finally evened out, Ron opened the diary and began to recount the weird experience before dinner to Tom.

No one just forgets that they walked from the bathroom to outside the castle….at least, not like Ron had.

Through most of the night, Tom assured him that Ron had most likely been the target of a prank gone wrong - a forgetfulness potion. As unlikely as it sounded to Ron, something about Tom made it seem like the only option. Compelled to drop the subject, Ron continued to talk nonsense to Tom until his mind and body felt drained and in need of sleep.

With bleary eyes, Ron hid the diary under his pillow and passed out - dead to the world.

The morning light hitting Ron's face is what woke him, eyes still bleary and body feeling extra tired from the long first week....and, possibly, the late night diary writing. Weakly flinging the covers off, Ron spotted a little note on his bedside table in, what Ron can only describe as, barely decipherable chicken scratch. Re-reading the note twice and squinting at it, Ron finally understood what the wonky letters were trying to say.

Down at the Quidditch pitch for practice- Woods orders. Be back when I can. He made us get up at dawn. :(

Harry.

Alright, so Ron was making a detour down to the Quidditch pitch then, easy peasy. Stretching out and abandoning the warmth of his bed, Ron got ready for the day ahead, throwing on his Weasley jumper for extra warmth. The stairs were freezing his feet through his thick socks and shoes as Ron made his way down to the common room.

"Morning Mione." Ron called out to the girl who was nose deep  in another book of Lockhart's, curled up in an armchair by the fireplace. 

"Good morning, Ron." She called out, smiling pleasantly for a moment before her attention turned back to the book in her hands.

Ron raised his eyebrow at the distracted girl. "How long have you been up?"

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "Just an hour or two, I saw Harry leave with Oliver and Colin."

Harry had written that Oliver had made them leave at dawn and it was now - quickly glancing at the clock - 8 in the morning. 'An hour or two', First rule of being Hermione Granger's friend, never believe her when she says she hasn't been studying/reading for 'that long' . Playfully rolling his eyes, Ron gently tugged on her colourful jumper sleeve and pulled her up from the armchair.

"Come on, Mione." Ron said while leading the still reading girl to the portrait hole. "Let's go get some breakfast then head to the Quidditch pitch, we can watch after we eat."

Ron led Hermione by her sleeve, she eventually looked up and they switched to holding hands, making their way to the Great Hall for breakfast together. There were a few students up and about, mingling around the tables and eating their fill. Ron let go of Hermione to grab some toast and spread marmalade over it, grabbing a warm piece of bacon while he was at it.

Eyeing all the glorious food, a thought wiggled into Ron's mind as he munched on the bacon. "Hey, Mione?"

The girl looked up from her piece of toast, tilting her head. "Yes?"

"Do you have any containers on you? You know, so we can carry some food down to the pitch without it getting ruined."

"No, but...I'm sure we could borrow a bowl or two." Hermione looked down to the stacked plates, cups and bowls around the Gryffindor table. “Why?”

Ron grinned, reaching for three of them. "Perfect. Help me fill them up, would you. I want to bring it down for the team."

Hermione shared Ron's smile. "That's a great idea - oh! I have a thermos too! We can use it to bring some tea down."

Ron looked over to where Hermione was sprinting back towards the hallway, dodging other students as they wandered in. Shrugging, Ron continued to load up bowls with breakfast food that could be easily eaten with your hands. Perfect for a team of Quidditch players who were rolled out of bed by an over-enthusiastic Oliver Wood at dawn.

When Hermione returned, she was holding a pink bottle of sorts in her hand. When she placed it on the table, it rattled like it was made of metal and she unscrewed the basic cap on top.

"Wassat supposed to do?" Ron asked as Hermione poured a jug of warm tea into the bottle.

"It's a thermos, it keeps your drinks warm." Hermione answered while screwing the cap back on. "I figured the team would appreciate a warm drink with how cold it is."

"Woah, really? Did you enchant it or something?" Ron asked, stars in his eyes as he eyed the thermos.

Hermione laughed as they made their way out of the castle, arms full of covered bowls, and down to the Quidditch pitch. "No, no, it's a muggle invention. It uses insulation to keep the drinks warm for much longer."

Ron was in awe of the thermos. "That's bloody brilliant. My Dad would love to talk your ear off about it. That's so smart, a container to keep your drinks warm like, woah."

The two continued to talk about the thermos, Ron finding himself in awe at some of the muggle inventions. Seriously, why hadn't the wizarding world caught up with some of this? Like portable music players and pens!

Wild.

Shuffling into the stands, Ron stole a piece of toast and got to watch the thermos in action. Like well… like magic the tea poured out into the cap of the bottle and was still warm when Ron had a sip.

Fucking wild.

"Hermione, that has to be the best invention to ever exist." Ron told her, eyes glued to the magical pink container.

Hermione laughed again and the two continued to talk about the muggle world and their amazing inventions until the tromping of tired feet could be heard. Turning their heads to the pitch, Ron spotted the Gryffindor team ambling out of the changing rooms looking like they'd rather be in bed.

"Aren't you finished yet?" Ron called down to the team, Harry looking up at them with deadpan envy.

"Haven't even started." Harry grouched back. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

"Well, I'm glad we brought these then. Who wants some food!" Ron shouted to the pitch and all heads swivelled to him and Hermione in the stands. "Hermione and I brought food and tea from the Hall, if you want some, fly on up!"

Like a flying stampede, the whole Gryffindor team (except for Wood) flew up to Ron and Hermione at lightning speeds. Harry was first in line, happily grabbing some bacon and a warm muffin, taking a drink from Hermione's thermos. Fred, George, Angelian, Alicia and Katie all happily thanked him and Hermione as well. Fred and George even ruffled their hair, happily announcing that Ron was, now, their favourite sibling.

"Who was your favourite before!?" Ron shouted after his laughing brothers as they flew towards Harry, perched on his Nimbus two thousand.

Oliver, reluctantly, flew over and quietly thanked them as he took a mini pancake and a sip of tea before flying off into the pitch. The effect of the food was near instantaneous, the team springing to life and breaking off into their own groups. Ron watched as Harry raced with Fred and George around the edge of the pitch, his broom quickly picking up speed.

A snapping sound brought Ron's attention away from the pitch and up to one of the boxes. Colin had managed to find his way inside and was snapping picture after picture as Harry, Fred, George and Wood talked on their brooms. 

Ron groaned and started to rise up, clearly his talk to Colin would be now, seriously he has to realize not everyone appreciates the attention. Before Ron could walk off, Fred pointed down to the pitch and Ron followed his arm, groaning when he spotted intruders decked in green robes.

As the Slytherin team announced their presence on the pitch, Oliver bee-lined for them, quickly landing with the rest of the Gryffindor team following. 

"Come on, Hermione. I can smell a fight brewing." Ron said as he gathered the empty bowls.

"They better not." Hermione grouched, following behind. "They might lose us points."

"There are no teachers around, Mione. I doubt we'll lose points if an actual fight breaks out." Ron said as they made their way down the winding wooden staircase and out onto the grassy pitch.

From afar, Ron watched as the Slytherin team moved aside and an, unfortunately, familiar blond head appeared in the crowd. The Gryffindor team looked lost on what to do and Ron hurried his steps just a bit.

"Oh look," Ron heard Marcus Flint say as his sharp smirk met Ron. "A pitch invasion."

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry as he and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor team. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" Ron said with a glare at Malfoy's smug face, decked out in Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasey." Malfoy boasted, thrusting his broom forward. "Everyone's just been admiring the new brooms my father brought our team."

Ron's glare landed on the new brooms that Malfoy was boasting about and - oh.....oh shit. Those are Nimbus two thousand and one's. Those are said to be faster than the Nimbus two thousand by a significant amount and....Ron's gaze landed on Fred and George's brooms. Unfortunately, they blow the water out from the Cleansweeps that were barely new when Charlie was Seeker.

"Good aren't they?" Malfoy's smug tone brought Ron out of his jealous admiration for the brand new brooms. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin's howled with laughter and Ron could feel his anger bubbling and boiling towards the surface.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in." Hermione piped up, head held high and proud.

Ron turned to her, gobsmacked that she could talk smack at all. And her blow was devastating which was amazing! Ron opened his mouth to praise her-

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood." Malfoy spat.

Time seemed to stop, a high pitched ringing echoing in Ron's ears as his world zeroed in, not on Malfoy but to Hermione. One of Ron's very best friends who's face, for just a fraction of a moment, screwed up like she'd eaten a lemon. This amazing and brilliantly talented witch, who was only twelve, flinched away from the words spat at her ever so slightly.

You'd have to be standing close to her to see the subtle changes to Hermione's face and body, how her arms curled ever so slightly and her eyes flicker to the ground. It all happened within seconds, barely noticeable.

But Ron noticed. No one got to talk to Ron's friends like that.

No one got to talk to Hermione like that.

Ron didn't give his actions a second thought.

Ron pivoted on his heel, burning gaze locked onto that head of blond hair that was, cowardly, hiding behind Flint. With accuracy that would make any Beater jealous, Ron flung one of the bowls in his hand at Malfoy's head. With a hard thunk the bowl hit its mark. 

Ron barely heard Malfoy's cry of pain as he flicked the other bowl at Flint's head too.

The bowl hit Flint in the face and he stumbled to the side, Ron took the opportunity to race forward and land a swift punch to Malfoy's unblemished face. There were cries of surprise from the teams before Ron whipped out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy who was wailing on the ground.

It was as if Ron had set off a bomb, instantly the other Slytherin's had their wands out and pointed at Ron. This didn't bother him in the slightest, his burning gaze was trained only on Malfoy below him.

"You're disgusting, Malfoy. How dare you say such a thing to Hermione." Ron spat at Malfoy who was still sprawled on the ground.

Malfoy glared up at him, shaking ever so slightly. "What do you care, Wealey? Your family brings shame to wizards. A disgrace to purebloods for even associating with mudbloo-"

Ron flicked his wand through the air and cast the new curse he'd read about in his Charms and Curses text book. A green beam hit Malfoy dead on (how could it not?) and Malfoy rolled over to his side groaning. Ron had a moment to feel vindictive pride before the Slytherin's surrounding him waved their own wands.

"Protego!" Ron flinched at the shouts from behind him as the curses aimed at him bounced off the translucent bubble around him harmlessly.

Three wands were pointed at him, all from faces he happily ran back towards. Fred and George accepted him with open arms, wands still raised, and Hermione gave Ron a smile.

"You- you'll pay for, ugh, for this, Weasley." Malfoy's threat was severely undercut by the glistening slugs he was puking up.

The Slytherin's were all paralysed by the disgusting slugs while grins, giggles and bubbling laughter swept through the Gryffindor team.

"Well, pick him up!" Flint shouted to one of his teammates. "Get him to Pomfrey."

One of the burly Beaters hauled Malfoy to his feet, nearly dropping him as another slug dribbled put of his mouth. 

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill?" Colin came rushing onto the field, camera held in his hands and watching the retreating Slytherin's with curiosity.

"Nothing, Colin." Harry said, moving away from the boy. "Just Ron showing Slytherin who's boss."

Ron would have boasted about the great curse he had shot, but he found himself tackled into a crushing hug from Hermione. Her bushy hair blocked his vision and her arms were securely wrapped around his neck.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered to him.

Ron wasted no time in wrapping his own arms around her. "No one should ever call you that. You're the brightest witch of our time, don't pay those creeps, especially Malfoy, any mind."

Harry quickly joined in the hug, the two boys keeping Hermione snug between them. Only for all of them to nearly topple to the ground when the rest of the team and Colin piled in.

"Oh, Merlin - get off! You are crushing us!" Ron shouted with a laugh to the Gryffindor team.

When they finally separated, Ron and Hermione dragged Colin back into the stands so the team could continue their practice, gathering the bowls as they went. It was fun to watch, Harry was amazing and lightning quick on his broom. Oliver called out maneuvers and, slowly, the team was able to respond to the commands.

None of the balls were brought into play but it was fun to watch the team go through their new moves. What wasn't fun was listening to Colin's camera snapping every second and hearing him shout for Harry's attention. When they weren't in the middle of practice, Ron would be taking him aside and asking for this to stop.

As the team started to wind down, Ron took the opportunity to wave Colin over. The overly eager boy ran over like an excited puppy, a smile splitting his face. 

“Hello you two!” Colin greeted, excited as ever. “Great practice, right! I can't wait to see Harry in a real game, and the Slytherin's earlier, wow! You were great, Ron! What was that curse you cast? I've never seen it and I didn't get a photo-” 

“Colin-” 

“This place is truly spectacular! If I wasn't worried about my camera, I'd ask dad if we could buy a broom-” 

“Colin, please-” 

“But he's been thrilled with the photos! I got a letter from him just the other day, by owl no less! He was gobsmacked at all that I was seeing-” 

Ron finally had enough and shouted, “Colin, please just stop talking and listen!” 

The boy startled out of his ramble, jolting and going quiet. Ron sighed, already feeling bad about causing that pensive look on Colin’s face. 

“Sorry, but please, I need you to listen.” Ron explained, continuing before Colin could try and say something. “You need to calm down with the photo taking or, at least, stop taking so many photos of Harry.” 

When Colin didn't say anything, Ron hesitantly continued as his confidence dissipated. “Not everyone likes having their pictures taken all the time, ok? Harry doesn't-” 

“But he’s never said anything?” Colin interjected, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy.

“Because he doesn't want to be rude, but, Colin, don't you notice how he moves away from you? Or doesn't respond to your questions?” 

Colin nodded slowly, so Ron continued. “He's saying, with his body, that he's uncomfortable does….does that make sense?” 

“Not really.” Colin’s brow was furrowed in frustration and distress. “I-I didn't know he was uncomfortable. Why didn't he say anything? How was I supposed to know?” 

And that made Ron pause because Colin was right. How was he supposed to know Harry was uncomfortable or upset if Harry never voiced it. Ron was used to reading body language but…maybe others weren't? 

That was a new thought. 

For now, Ron gave Colin a nod. “You're right, how were you supposed to know? Ok, well, I'm telling you now that Harry is getting annoyed and uncomfortable with all the photos so, please, tone it down. Or, better yet, ask before taking a picture, ok?” 

“Ok, but what about other people? If-if I didn't notice with Harry….have I been making other people uncomfortable too?” 

“I don't know.” Ron shrugged, but gave a smile to Colin. “Just to be safe though, how about asking people before taking a photo? And, I'll tell Harry to let you know when he's feeling uncomfortable. Does that work for you?” 

Colin's head whipped up and down in a quick nod, a genuine smile spreading across his cheeks. “Please do! I don't want to make people uncomfortable, but how can I know if no one tells me.” 

“Then it's settled.” Ron decided with a firm nod. “I'll let Harry know to tell you when he's feeling uncomfortable and you ask permission before taking photos of people, that goes for anyone, ok?” 

“Yes! That sounds perfect!” Colin held out his hand for a shake, but Ron opened his arms instead. 

“Do you want-” Before he could finish, Ron was hugging an armful of grateful Colin. The other boy was near radiating sunshine and happiness. 

As quickly as the hug began, Colin darted away with a hastily given “Thank you!” Ron watched him run out of the pitch, holding it back to the castle at breakneck speeds. 

“You're really good at that, you know?” Ron whipped around to face a smiling Hermione. 

He'd kinda forgotten she was there honestly. 

“Good at what?” Ron questioned his friend. 

“Reading people. It's….not something most people can do.” 

Ron waved away Hermione’s praise, ignoring how his ears started to burn. “It was nothing. He just….He really looked so confused that someone wouldn't tell him when they're uncomfortable.” 

Hermione hummed in agreement. “Yes, but I bet you're one of the only people to offer a solution that wasn't just ‘get better at reading people.’ He probably really appreciated it.” 

Ron, once again, waved away Hermione's praise and turned back to the pitch, ignoring how his face was starting to warm.

—------------

When practice finished up, and Harry had gotten changed, the three of them waved to the team and headed for Hagrid's hut. On the trip over, Ron told Harry about his conversation with Colin and their agreement. Ron, once again, found himself crushed in a hug as Harry thanked him profusely, promising he'd tell Colin if he was feeling uncomfortable. 

It was, probably, the happiest Ron had seen Harry all week. 

Once they arrived at the hatched roof hut, they knocked on the door and grumbling could be heard from the other side. When the door opened Hagrid, who was scowling, perked up and gave the three of them a bright grin.

"Hello, you three! Bin wonderin' when you were gonna pop in. Thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again." Hagrid said as he shuffled to the side and let them into his home.

As they sat down, Ron and Harry became occupied with Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, who was happily slobbering over the two of them. Hagrid busied himself making tea, his large kettle already over the fireplace.

"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Harry asked as he traded places with Hermione so she could have a chance to be slobbered on too.

The two friends happily petted Fang as Hagrid moved a half-plucked rooster and set the boiling pot on the table. "Givin' me advice gettin' kelpies out of a well, like I don’ know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he bashed. If one word of it was true, I'd eat my kettle."

Ron's eyebrow rose and he couldn't help the cheeky grin that quietly stretched across his face as he scratched behind Fang's ear. Hermione elbowed him which only made Ron's grin stretch wider.

"I think you're being a bit unfair." Hermione said in a high voice. "Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job-"

"He was the on'y man fer the job." Said Hagrid while offering them a plate of treacle toffee. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. What brings you three here, by the way?"

Ron looked up from Fang's head slobbering in his lap. "We wanted to visit you-"

"After the best Quidditch practice I've ever had!" Harry happily exclaimed. "Ron cursed Malfoy! With slugs!"

Hagrid, however, seemed less than impressed. "Now, why on Earth didja' do tha' for? You know who Lucious Malfoy is?"

"He was standing up for me." Hermione boldly proclaimed before Ron could start to feel even an inkling of fear. "He was....he was defending me from Draco Malfoy.....he called me a Mudblood."

Hagrid gasped. "He didin'!"

"He did." Hermione whispered, losing her gusto and shrinking into herself again.

"It's the second time he's done it. I wasn't able to do much last year but I wasn't going to do nothing this time." Ron growled, throwing an arm over Hermione's shoulder and pulling her into an embrace. "No one should ever use that word against anybody, it's disgusting and pitiful."

"They haven' invented a spell our Hermione can't do!" Hagrid proudly boasted while Hermione turned a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's mad, most wizards nowadays are half-blood anyway. If we didn't marry muggles, we'd have died out. And, I mean, look at other pure bloods. Nevile can barely stand a cauldron the right way up and I'm always coming to you with questions. You're the most brilliant witch, Hermione. Don't listen to idiots like Malfoy." Ron vented, arm still around Hermione in a fierce side hug which turned into a full one once she wrapped her arms around his chest.

"Well, I don' blame ya fer cursing him, Ron. Suspect Lucious will 'ave somethin' different to say on it though." Hagrid said and Ron tried to ignore the twisting in his gut.

Ron would never take back what he had done and, if push came to shove, he had the whole Gryffindor team to back him up but....well, there were repercussions for things. And Lucious Malfoy was not only a representative of the school but also of the Ministry. If he found out about this, and he would, then Ron might have jeopardized more than just his place at Hogwarts.

His family, his Dad, might be jeopardized in a way they can't afford. But, there was no use worrying about the what-if's. What's done is done and Ron would do it again if Malfoy or anyone said that dirty word to anyone else.

"Harry," said Hagrid suddenly, bringing Ron out of his internal spiral. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?" 

Ron cringed and looked away, not needing to see the thunderous look on Harry's face, his angry yelling was enough. "I have not been giving out signed photos. If Lockhart's still putting that about -!"

Harry stopped his angry rant when he heard Hagrid start laughing, Ron and Hermione joining in too.

"I'm on'y joking." Hagrid said while patting Harry on the back. Poor Hagrid didn't know his own strength and Ron dove forward, hands outstretched to keep Harry's face from smashing into he table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn't need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that." Harry sat up, sending a grateful smile to Ron.

"Don' think he did." Said Hagrid, eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go."

"Sounds like him." Ron muttered as he finished off his tea.

Seeing they were done, Hagrid happily shuffled to the door. "Come an' see what I've bin growin'."

Hagrid led them to the vegetable patch behind his hut which Ron had already seen previously. In the daylight, the pumpkins were even more impressive, easily dwarfing Ron. If Hagrid entered them into one of those muggle fairs Ron had seen in his local village, any of them would win first place.

Or maybe they'd be disqualified because they were the size of large boulders?

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" Hagrid happily said. "Fer the Hallowe'en feast....should be big enough by then."

"What have you been feeding them?" Harry asked with a tilt of his head.

Hagrid checked over his shoulder, eyeing the grounds around them to make sure they were alone. "Well, I've bin givin' them - You know - a bit o' help."

Hagrid nodded over the the back wall of his hut where Ron spotted a flowery pink umbrella. Ron had never seen Hagrid use it before but, guessing by his secretive tone and the obviously too-big-for-normal pumpkins, it was safe to say Hagrid's wand might be in there. But that begged the question, why was Hagrid hiding his wand?

"An Engourgment Charm I suppose." Hermione said, bringing Ron out of his musings. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what Ron said too, jus' the other night." Ron cringed a little as Harry and Hermione furrowed their brows and turned to him.

"I told you both I talked with Hagrid, he showed me the pumpkins then." Ron shrugged, looking away from their confused faces.

If he couldn't see them, their concern didn't exist. Simple logic.....except the stares were getting too much - Ron needed a distraction.

"Well, best be off then, Hagrid. I said I'd visit Mars this weekend and we're gonna go do that. I've been missing her." Ron said with a too big smile, grabbing Harry and Hermione's hands in his. "We'll see you later!"

"See you's then!" Hagrid waved them off as Ron held back from sprinting to the Forbidden Forest, keeping up a calm walk. 

When Hargid had disappeared into his hut and there was no one else around, Harry and Hermione let go of his hands with a flurry.

"You said you met Hagrid on the way back from the toilets." Harry quickly accused, nearly tripping over a tree root as he walked backwards. "When did you get down to Hagrid's hut?"

"I just found myself outside the castle, that's all." Ron dismissed, not able to look Harry in the eyes. "It's not a big deal, ok? I went down to Hagrid's hut and he showed me the pumpkins-"

"But why didn't you say so? And why would you go down to his hut? That's not a quick journey, Ron." Hermione said, eyes hard as steel before Ron was avoiding her gaze too.

"I don't know, it was a spur of the moment thing. Hagrid found me and brought me down to the hut-"

"You just said you went down to his hut." Harry pointed out. "Not that Hagrid found you and brought you down."

"Whatever, why do you guys care if he found me or I went by myself? It doesn't really matter, does it?" Ron eyed the two, a fire beginning to churn in his gut at their confused glances.

Hermione hesitantly spoke, taking one of Ron's hands in her own. "It's not a big deal, I suppose, just....don't lie to us, please. We care about you Ron, like you do us. If you found out we had gone out by ourselves you would react the same."

Ron went to rebut her claim but closed his mouth when he realized....well, yeah, he would question them. Hell, he had done it - when Harry found that magic mirror last year. Taking in a deep breath, Ron let his shoulders drop and tried to let go of the unnecessary rage in his body.

"Yeah, you're right, I would question you two. Sorry, I'll keep you both updated. It really is nothing to worry about though. I just wandered outside and Hagrid showed me the pumpkins. I promise, it's nothing serious."

Ron barely startled when his other hand was taken by Harry. "Just....keep us in the loop, ok? Don't know what we'd do without you."

"Probably kill eachother." Hermione said, extremely deadpan.

"Possibly." Harry deadpanned right back.

"As if." Ron rolled his eyes, dragging his two best friends along. "I'd be there to stop you two from doing anything."

The trio continued to banter and chat on the short trek to the Forest, walking along the worn path towards one of its many entrances. The Forest had one 'main entrance' decorated with lovely signs like 'Turn back now!' And 'Death ahead!'. Luckily, it was a Forest so the trio avoided this 'main entrance' and went to a more peaceful side with a creek nearby.

Knocking three times on the wood of a great tree, Ron didn't have to wait long to spot Bane emerging through the darkness of the Forest. Beside him, coat duller but still shining bright, was Mars. Upon spotting Ron the foal whinnied and galloped towards him, slowing to a trot once she was close enough.

Ron laughed and threw open his arms for his dear friend, bracing for an impact that never came. Peeking open one eye, Ron tilted his head at Mars who was still and watching him, her tail flicking back and forth.

"Mars? Come here girl, it's me! You remember me, right?" Mars did not move closer at Ron's call, instead her head bobbed back and forth as if sniffing the air.

Ron slowly lowered his arms. "Mars? What's wrong?"

Slowly, as if afraid to come closer, Mars hesitantly approached Ron. When she was close enough, she sniffed him again, her muzzle inches from his face. Ron let her be, maybe she wasn't expecting him so soon?

Having found whatever confirmation she needed, Mars gently nuzzled her muzzle into Ron's cheek. Her once golden fur was slowly fading into a stunning silver, a sure sign she was growing up.

"Hey girl." Ron gently hugged her head, patting around her growing horn. "I missed you. You alright, now? I didn't think I smelt that bad."

"Maybe she's growing into her caution." Hermione said while slowly approaching Mars and petting her neck. "Unicorns are, usually, more frightened of men than women."

"Yeah, maybe." Ron didn't believe it for a second.

Hagrid had told him how excited the foal was to see him, confirmed from the centaurs themselves. And she seemed alright from the edge of the Forest, so why did she hesitate just before him? It didn't make sense.

As much as Ron wanted to mull over what could have spooked Mars it was hard to keep concentration when the little foal was trying to eat his hair.

"Maybe she thinks you're a carrot, Ron." Harry smirked at him.

Ron waved him away with a half-hearted glare while trying to gently keep Mars from chomping him further. "Shut up - no, Mars! My hair is not for eating!"

Instead of answering, Mars knocked her head into Ron's instead. Ron had to dodge the horn and coped a face full of unicorn instead, rubbing his cheek on her snout.

The trio spent a happy hour together with Mars, Bane watching from afar with his bow resting by his side and observing their surroundings. Mars happily basked in the attention, her slowly malting coat shimmering silver in the sunlight. Ron felt tension bleeding from his body, spending time with Harry, Hermione and Mars was amazing.

Spending time with Mars left Ron feeling like he was on a magical cloud, like he had taken a bath in the purest spring water you could imagine. It felt like his very soul had been purged of whatever had been plaguing him.

Walking back to the school, Ron didn't realize how much he had relaxed until he spotted Professor McGonagall; walking towards their trio from the Entrance Hall and his shoulder was tense again.

"There you are, Potter, Weasley. You will both do your detentions this evening." She said with a stern frown.

"What are we doing, Professor?" Ron questioned.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr Filch." Ron's heart sunk to the bottom of the floor as she turned to Harry. "And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

"Oh no - can't I go to the trophy room too?" Harry desperately pleaded, eyes wide behind his circular glasses.

"Certainly not." Professor McGonagall said, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you specifically. Eight O'clock sharp, both of you."

With a swish of her emerald green robes she was striding back through the Entrance Hall, off to who knows where. Meanwhile Ron, like Harry, was stewing and dreading his detention tonight.

"Filch'll have me there all night." Ron bemoaned, happiness and appetite draining away as the trio took a seat in the Great Hall for lunch. "No magic! There must be about a hundred trophies in that room. I always hate cleaning at home, I'll take cooking everyday before cleaning."

"I'd swap any time." Harry said while poking his shepherd's pie. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail....he'll be a nightmare..."

"Well, at least you're both feeling regret and won't be doing this again." Hermione said with an air of confidence that was undeserving.

Ron raised an eyebrow at her and shot her a look. "I don't wanna hear anything from you miss let's-research-the-one-guy-we've-been-told-not-to-look-up. You watch, I bet you'll be running along with us just to ‘keep us out of danger’ just like you did last year. Nevermind the fact you totally wanted in on the action too."

Hermione's face turned a scarlet red and she turned away from Ron defiantly. "We decided to do that together. It wasn't some brainless stunt pulled when there was a sensible way to go about things."

"One could argue the sensible thing for us to do last year was for us to go to a teacher." Ron argued. "But we didn't, did we?"

"Oh, shut up." Hermione hissed, pointing down at Ron's lunch with her face still scarlet. "Eat your lunch."

At least spending time together helped Ron prepare for his detention that night. The joy he felt at being with his friends only led to a greater dread once he saw the time ticking away. Before he knew it, Ron was pushing away Percy's concern at a late night detention and making his way to the trophy room.

Filch was there and already waiting for him, Mrs Norris sitting at his feet and flicking her tail. He had a chair with him and a slew of polish with cleaning cloths.

His sneer turned into a wicked grin. "Back in detention, eh? Hurry up. Silver for the silver ones and gold for the gold ones. Better hope you don't confuse the polish, boy."

Ron gave a simple nod, grimacing as he grabbed the polishes and cloths, and made his way to the first wall of trophies.

Halfway through the first case, Ron's arm was starting to hurt a little, the repetitive motion of polishing taking its toll. By the beginning of the second case, Ron's fingers and hands looked more like a muddy gold than his usual pale skin. Instead of standing, Ron had taken to sitting on the ground so his legs wouldn't shake while polishing.

All while Filch watched and judged every trophy that Ron finished and the grumpy old caretaker never seemed to be satisfied.

"There's a streak on that one."

"You call that polished?"

"I can see silver on the gold!"

"You smudged it."

On and on, Filch seemed to find every speck of imperfection, even if it wasn't there.

The worst one was the Quidditch Cup, Filch somehow managed to find something wrong with it fourteen times. It was ridiculous! The bloody thing was shinier than a freshly polished diamond by the time Ron was finished with it and yet it still didn't meet Filch's standards.

By the time Ron had finished it was half an hour until midnight and the trophies had never looked better. Yet Filch still scrutinized them and Ron with a judgmental eye.

"They'll do." Filch sneered. "Go, go! Get out of here. Run back to yer little house."

Ron didn't need to be told twice, finally free from the torment that was polishing. Once he was sure he was far enough away, Ron groaned and nursed his right arm.

"Seriously," Ron groaned as he made his way up the moving staircases. "Not even cooking all day hurts this badly."

At least the trophy room was close enough to Gryffindor Tower, it was still far but, when you're living in a castle, a fifteen minute walk wasn't that far. As Ron waited for one of the staircases to come back to his platform his body shivered, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. While watching his skin prickle and bump, Ron felt a familiar calm wash over his whole body again.

All his senses faded, mind going blank as Ron was left staring at nothing but blank space in front of him. It was nothing, just an empty void that stretched for kilometers.

Ron tried to move through the space but his feet and legs felt like they were locked in place, bound to the spot by an unknown force. There was no wind to rustle his hair or even a floor to stand on. The fact Ron was floating in a void should have him more afraid yet....Ron could feel nothing.

Even his own thoughts escaped him like leaves in a breeze. He knew he should have been panicking or questioning this more but...he just couldn't. The second a tinge of fear entered his mind it was blown away by another wash of calm.

When Ron came to, it was abrupt and harsh. One second the void was there and the next, Ron is staring at his reflection in a mirror. Ron watched his own eyebrows furrow and he turned away from his confused reflection to look at the new space he was in.

A darkened bathroom, one he'd never seen before, that was cold and only illuminated by strips of moonlight from a large, circular window. With a quick glance, it was obvious Ron was in a girls bathroom but, that begged the great question.... why was he in a girls bathroom?

Where in the castle was he and how did he get here?

"What is a boy doing here? Who are you?" A shrill voice echoed from the roof.

Ron twisted around, spotting a ghost girl floating above him. She wore an old Hogwarts uniform, pigtails drooping beside her cheeks and gloomy eyes hidden behind pearly round glasses. She was the saddest looking ghost Ron had ever seen and he wasn't keen to stick around.

"Uh, no one! I was just leaving, um, bye!" Ron waved his hand as he bolted for the door, the ghost's shrill voice cried out followed by a loud splash.

Ron quickly discovered he was in the dungeons, which was wild because he was just at the moving staircases. The dungeons were horrible, not only was it the domain of Slytherin and Snape but it was so bloody cold! Shivering, Ron wandered the freezing cold halls, twisting and turning until he finally found a way out.

The Entrance Hall was not where he needed to be and Ron quickly whipped out his wand and whispered. "Lumos."

The wand tip lit up with a white glow, some of the paintings grumbling and groaning at the unwanted light.

"Turn that off!"

"We're trying to sleep!"

"It's past curfew, you know?"

"Are you lost, dearie?"

"Sorry, sorry." Ron apologised as he raced back to the moving staircases and towards Gryffindor Tower. Racing as quietly as he could through the eerily empty halls, Ron chose to do the only sensible thing and ignore the whole event.

Everyone sleep walks from time to time, that's totally what happened. Just sleep walking, who could blame him when Filch had kept him....well, there was no clock around but it was late! Super late even, no wonder Ron had fallen asleep while walking.

It was a totally normal occurrence that could have happened to anyone, Ron decided as he whispered the password to the Fat Lady. She grumbled about it being too late but still swung open to the cozy common room.

The fire was roaring in the fireplace, flames casting a lovely yellow glow to the nearly empty room. By the fire, strewn about on the floors and couches, were Ron's brothers.

George was passed out on the floor, starfished out and one of the couches many throw pillows trapped under his head. Percy, similarly, was passed out in one of the armchairs with his legs dangling over an arm and cuddling a pillow. The only one awake was Fred who turned to greet him with a tired smile.

"Alright there, Ron? Bit late for you to be coming back." Fred whispered, eyes turning back to the fire briefly before his nose scrunched up. "What's that smell?"

"It's me. Filch had me polishing the trophies tonight. I think he was smudging them on purpose just so I'd have to re-polish everything twice." Ron answered, taking a seat next to Fred on the couch he occupied.

Fred snorted, still staring into the fire. "You didn't think to wash off the smell before you came back here stinking like a potions class gone wrong?"

"Didn't wanna test my luck in the Halls if any teachers were around. Bet Snape wouldn't believe I had just finished detention and would give me another."

"Yeah, sounds like something he'd do." Fred agreed.

"What are you lot doing here?"

"Waiting for you, obviously." Fred answered with a yawn. "The last time you were late to the common room you fought a troll and went into the bowels of the school."

Ron had no rebuttal to that and instead nodded while turning to the fire. A calm silence filled the common room, the warm fire pulling Ron towards sleep as his eyes drooped and his limbs grew heavy.

"You sure you're alright?" Fred asked, eyes uncharacteristically scrutinizing. "You're...looking a bit peaky, I guess."

"I just did...what's the time now?"

"Near one in the morning, I'd guess."

"I just did four or five hours of polishing trophies with Filch and Miss Norris. I'd be worried if I looked like anything else." Ron answered, drawing another snort from Fred who leaned over and ruffled his hair.

"Right, right, hadn't thought of that." Fred got up and stretched his lanky arms above his head before letting them flop by his side. "Just let us know if something is bothering you, yeah?"

The request was simple but it hung like a loose noose around Ron's neck. "Yeah, course."

"Cool. Help me wake the dorks up, both of them abandoned me and fell asleep like slackers."

While Ron took to nudging George awake by poking him with his foot, Fred fell back onto Percy's unprotected stomach like he wasn't sleeping on the armchair. His poor older brother let out a painful "Oof!" while starting to slap Fred's shoulder, wheezing as he did.

"You ogre, get off me!" Percy wheezed from under Fred while George startled awake at Ron's poke and Percy's shout.

"Wassat? The wind? I didn't hear anything, did you Forge? Ron?" Fred playfully asked while leaning more of his body weight on Percy.

Percy's retaliation was a hard kick to Fred's back with his knee, Fred yelped and slid down the front of the couch allowing Percy to sit up.

"What the fuck, Percy?" Fred groaned, hand trying to reach the sore spot on his back.

Percy huffed and ignored Fred's pain. "I told you to get off me."

"So you kick me!?"

"You sat on me while I was sleeping!"

"Whatever." Fred wheezed as he crawled to his feet. "Say your goodnights to Ron before he passes out."

Finally noticing Ron, who was held under George's arm, Percy gave him a quick glance before gently grabbing Ron's arms. His hands were still covered in the muddy gold colour and the odour was awful.

"You alright?" Percy asked, eyebrow raised as he scrutinized Ron's face.

"Perfectly fine after polishing all the trophies. Can I go to bed now? I'm bloody tired." Ron groaned, body sagging into George's side and arms falling limp to his side.

Percy scrutinized him a bit more before nodding and giving his hair a ruffle. "Of course, head to bed. I'm sure you'll be sleeping in all morning."

Ron let off a face splitting yawn as he ambled with his brothers up the stairs. "Yeah, definitely, I'm beat. I'll see you three later, goodnight."

A chorus of replies met Ron's ears as he stumbled into his darkened dorm room. When he finally flopped on his bed, all Ron wanted to do was pass out and forget his night ever happened.

Instead he nearly had a heart attack as a voice whispered to him. "You smell awful."

"Bloody hell!" Ron sat bolt upright, nearly headbutting Harry who was peering down at him. "Merlins beard, warn a guy before you scare them in the dark, Harry."

"Sorry, sorry." Harry sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "But you really do smell awful."

"Yeah, well, I'm too tired to bother with a shower. I don't know if my arms would even work with how sore they are." Ron moaned, head flopping back on his pillow. "How was Lockhart?"

Instead of the typical grumbling and groaning Ron had come to expect, Harry instead told him about a mysterious voice. Whispering words around the room, bone chilling and murderous in nature. Whatever was whispering in Harry's ear it was not there for friendly banter.

"And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" Ron asked Harry, the other boy shaking his head. "D'you think he was lying? But, I don't get it - even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know." Harry said while starfishing out on his bed, staring up at the canopy. "I don't get it either."

Ron stared at his best friend who was looking at the ceiling like it would give him all the answers he needed. "Maybe you could ask Sirius or Remus? Maybe they would know."

"And risk them thinking I've gone insane? No way. Who knows, maybe it was nothing." Harry said, not turning to look at him.

Ron gulped as he thought back on his own night and his missing memory. Yeah, there was no way Ron was telling his family about his own troubles anytime soon either.

"Maybe you're right." Ron quietly agreed, tucking himself under his covers. "Just...at least tell Hermione and me if you hear anything else."

There was a brief pause from Harry. "Sure, Ron."

That night, Ron drifted off with missing memory, his best friend admitting to hearing voices and his own hand clutching the diary still under his pillow.

Chapter Text

October arrived as it always did, bringing a damp chill to the air and sickness around every corner. Kids were dropping like flies with flu symptoms, sneezing, coughing and the like, all around the castle. Madam Pomfrey had her work cut out for her, constantly making and administering her pepperup potion.

Ron had heard it tasted something awful but worked instantly. The only issue was the side effect, anyone who drank it was left steaming from their ears for hours afterwards. And the proof was in the pudding.

Ron had spied more than one student steaming from their ears, faces redder than mum's ripe tomatoes. Some were teased, others were laughed at good naturedly....but many were teased.

Unfortunately, Ron didn't have to dream about what it tasted like as Percy cornered him one evening in the common room with a vial of the potion in his hands.

"Watcha need that for, Perce? Are you feeling ok?" Ron asked as he looked away from his astrology charts.

The golden trio, as they had been nicknamed by Fred and George, were studying together. Study was a strong word, Harry was half concentrating as he doodled brooms and snitches on his spare parchment and Ron was lost in thought, quill unmoving on the star charts. The only one actually studying was Hermione as she flipped through a potions textbook that was thicker than her arm.

Percy shook his head and thrust the potion at Ron with a frown on his face. "It's not for me, it's for you. Drink it."

"What? Why?" Ron moved his head away from the, seemingly, innocent vial that was thrust at his face. "I'm fine, I don't need a potion."

Percy's glare had Ron withering in his seat. "Your face is pale, but your nose is red, and your eyes look baggy and bloodshot. If that wasn't enough, you've been staring off into space for the last 5 minutes doing nothing."

Ron felt his face heat up as he avoided eye contact with Percy. "That doesn't mean anything-"

"Just take the potion before I have Fred and George hold you while I force it down your throat."

"Whatever." Ron snapped, snatching the potion from Percy's hand as he uncorked it. "I'm not sick, there's no reason to fuss."

Percy crossed his arms. "Take the potion and I won't fuss."

With a scowl, Ron downed the potion with a grimace and felt the effects instantly. The sluggish feeling evaporated from his body and billowed out his ears with the steam that rose in his head. When Ron could open his eyes again (when had he closed them?) Percy gave him a content smile while Harry and Hermione grimaced.

"You alright, mate?" Harry asked while nodding to his head. "Your head looks like it's on fire."

"It's just the red hair and steam, Harry. Nothing to worry about." Percy assured his two friends. "Ron'll be right as rain in a few hours. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have duties to attend to."

Once Percy had wandered off, probably to check on the first years, Ron turned to Harry and Hermione.

"I don't look that bad, right?" He asked them desperately.

Hermione cringed. "You look like your head is actually on fire."

Ron groaned and tried to focus on his astronomy chart again, dutifully ignoring the steam he could feel pouring out his ears. And when Harry let off a little snicker as more steam billowed out Ron's ears?

Well...Ron took great satisfaction in the yelp Harry let out as he clutched his shin that Ron had kicked.

"Git." Harry grumbled under his breath, swatting Ron's shoulder.

"Muppet." Ron hissed back, jabbing his hand into Harry's hip.

Harry doubled over with shock and aimed a kick at Ron's foot. "How do you know what that is?"

"I don't have to know what it is," Ron fended off Harry's attempts to swat his head, retaliating with his own swat. "To know it's an insult!"

"Enough, both of you!" Hermione's harsh whisper made both Ron and Harry pause their little fight, both boys staring wide eyed at the scowling, bushy haired girl. "If you're not going to study then leave!"

Ron had Harry's robes bunched in one hand and was trying to grab his best friend's hair. Meanwhile, Harry's glasses were askew and he had a fistful of Ron's own robes, his own hand holding back Ron's from grabbing his hair. Both boys turned their gaze from Hermione to each other and stared for a moment.

"Quidditch talk?" Harry questioned.

"Quidditch talk." Ron concurred, both boys quickly releasing each other and rushing to pack up their things.

"W-what!?" Hermione loudly questioned as Ron grabbed his star charts and shoved them I to his arms, not bothering to fold them.

"We'll finish homework later!" Harry called with a laugh as he scooped up his parchments and raced for the stairs to the rooms.

"Wait - no - get back here you two!" Hermione yelled after the two boys who laughed as they raced upstairs and away from their fuming friend.

The days marched on and rain started to fall, turning the school gardens into muddy slop that stuck to everything. The rain and mud didn't deter Oliver Wood who dragged the Quidditch team out to practice again and again. This left Ron and Hermione together on Saturday mornings.

Ron didn't mind at all, Hermione kept her eyes glued to her books while Ron would play chess by himself or someone else if they asked. Hermione, when she managed to focus on anything else other than her books, would even offer to verse him. So far, Ron was the undisputed wizard chess champion in Gryffindor, a title he wore with honour and dignity.

It definitely didn't make him giddy beyond belief adding to his late nights with the diary....not at all.

On one memorable morning, Ron was practicing while Hermione had her nose in another one of Lockhart's books. However, instead of the starry eyed look Ron was used to seeing, Hermione looked more....scrutinizing while reading. She would stop every once in a while, reeling back as if reconsidering what she was reading before continuing on.

It was interesting to watch, even if Ron wasn't paying full attention as he commanded his chess pieces around the board. Today he was playing a sixth year, Pepper Spindle. She was good, really good, and Ron found himself having to defend while strategically setting up attacks.

However, as the two students traded pieces, Ron skillfully led his opponent into a swallow's tail mate. By the time she realized, it was too late and Ron's white Queen was preparing her swords for the finishing blow.

As Ron shook Pepper's hand, the sixth year declaring a rematch later on as she wandered away, Professor McGonagall approached Ron and Hermione's table.

"P-Professor McGonagall! Uh, good morning." Ron stammered out as his chess pieces collected themselves.

Hermione gave her own greeting as Professor McGonagall approached and smiled at them both. "Good morning Mr Weasley, Miss Granger. Do you mind if I sit?"

Ron shook his head, both him and Hermione sitting up a little straighter as Professor McGonagall swished out her robes and gracefully sat in the spare seat. She watched Ron's chess pieces collect themselves with a smile before turning her kind gaze to Ron.

"Mr Weasley, I have to congratulate you. If rumours are to be believed, you are the undisputed chess champion of Gryffindor, am I correct?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Words had left Ron's being, thankfully Hermione was able to articulate what Ron couldn't. "That's right Professor, he hasn't lost a match yet."

Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched into a proud smile. "Fantastic. Mr Weasley, would you be open to playing me in a match? I quite enjoy wizard chess myself."

Ron could honestly say he was gobsmacked.

Professor McGonagall was asking if she could verse Ron in chess? Professor McGonagall was possibly the smartest person Ron had met, next to Professor Dumbledore, and she was asking to verse Ron?

"Yes! I-I mean, yes, please, that would be awesome Professor McGonagall." Ron almost shouted, quickly correcting himself.

"Perfect. Meet me in my office tomorrow morning, we'll have some morning tea while we play."

Quick as she had entered she made her exit, green robes shimmering as she ghosted out of the room and into the portrait hole. Ron could only blink in astonishment at her retreating figure.

"Mione, pinch me. There's no way that just happened." Ron said in awe to his friend.

Hermione's smile almost split her face. "Ron, you get to play chess with Professor McGonagall! That's amazing! You have to tell Harry when he gets back!"

As Ron rode a wave of astonishment throughout breakfast, he jumped when Harry finally made it back from Quidditch practice. Ron and Hermione were nearly stumbling over each other's words trying to explain what happened while he was gone. While Harry wasn't interested in wizard's chess like Ron was, the proud smile he sent Ron made the boy giddy.

Come Sunday morning, after breakfast, Ron made his way into Professor McGonagall's cozy office that was attached to the Transfiguration classrooms. When he arrived, a plate of assorted biscuits was waiting on the table along with a marble chess board.

Professor McGonagall invited him to the table and poured them both tea, offering the biscuit plate where Ron happily indulged in a jammy biscuit. Quickly moving past pleasantries, Ron soon found himself forgetting about his tea and half eaten biscuit as he threw himself into the chess match.

Ron's black pieces moved efficiently as did McGonagall's white pieces. Both players refused to back down, for every trap Ron attempted McGonagall would retaliate tenfold. It was challenging, it was a struggle.

It was thrilling.

Ron hadn't been challenged like this for ages, not since his grandfather stopped visiting so much and playing with Ron. McGonagall was, predictably, cunning in her moves. What Ron was not expecting was her aggressive attacks against his moves and traps.

Even as McGonagall's white pieces cornered his black King, Ron couldn't help the large smile that spread across his cheeks. Once the final blow was dealt, the pieces smashed on the board, Ron quickly sat up and asked (near demanded) a rematch.

One match turned to two which lead to three which lead to McGonagall ushering Ron out of her office after the two set up weekly matches. Sure, Ron hadn't won a single match, but McGonagall had complimented his skills! He'd already beat her chess board once, granted he was fighting for his and his friends' lives, but Ron was sure he could do it.

He will best McGonagall, he will.

Hermione practically jumped on him once he came back to the common room, demanding details which Ron was all too happy to give. Harry happily listened, not adding to the conversation, but that didn't matter. Just having his two friends here and interested in Ron's achievements was more than enough.

Weeks and many chess matches passed, Ron was improving with each match, much to his enjoyment. Last Sunday Ron had managed to corner McGonagall, nearly successful in trapping her king. It didn't work, but Ron was excited to try again tomorrow.

However, this particular Saturday morning, a few days before Halloween and the first Gryffindor House Sleepover, Harry came tumbling back into the common room, tracking in mud as he did. When he came to their table and explained his odd morning, Hermione immediately perked up.

"A Deathday party?" Hermione lifted her head from her potion textbooks. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those - it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" Ron didn't mean to sound snappish but his potions homework was killing him. "Sounds dead depressing to me."

As Harry was about to continue his tale he was rudely interrupted by a loud bang and a cacophony of sparks. Fred and George, who were chilling in the common room too, were the cause of the explosion. Them and their "rescued" salamander which was now whizzing around the room while belching sparks.

Ron watched on, highly amused, as Percy bellowed at the twins for experimenting on animals and in the common room again. The little salamander, finally not spitting sparks, scurried away from all the commotion and disappeared into the walls. With a smile, Ron leant his head against his potions homework and just listened to the sounds of the common room.

"Ron? Are you alright?" Hermione quietly asked, leaning closer to him over their shared table.

Without raising his head, Ron gave a thumbs up to the bushy haired girl. "Fine, just tired. Haven't been sleeping well lately, too cold I guess."

"...I think I saw a spell that allows the user to warm up an object. Do you want to try it on your blankets?"

"Will it warm them up or set them on fire?" Ron questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"We could test it on something smaller first."

Ron gave a nod. "I'm in, I'm sick of being cold."

By the time Halloween rolled around, the castle was fully decorated for the amazing night. The Great Hall had been decorated with live bats, Hagrid's pumpkins had been carved into lanterns and were large enough for three men to sit in. There was even a rumour that Dumbledore had booked a live skeleton band for the entertainment.

However this was all overshadowed by two things. One, Ron was still sluggish and feeling drained. No matter what Ron tried he always woke up feeling like he'd taken ten of Fred and George's pranks head on.

Two, Harry had agreed to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party invitation which was to be held on Halloween. So, while people were anticipating the grand Halloween feast, Ron was dreading a Deathday party. This will mark two years in a row that Ron's missed the glorious and renowned feast.

At least Harry didn't look any happier than Ron did, Hermione even had to step in on Halloween to remind the other boy. "A promise is a promise. You said you'd go to the Deathday party."

At seven O'clock, when everyone else was heading towards the Great Hall for the feast, the golden trio were making their way to the dungeons.

"Oi!" A loud shout startled the three, turning around they spotted Fred shouting for them with the other Weasley brothers following. "Where are you three off to?"

"A Deathday party for Nearly Headless Nick." Harry answered them. "It's tonight and being held in the dungeons."

Ron's three brothers shared a look, which...ok? When were those three able to communicate telepathically? Ron thought that was a skill only the twins possessed.

Percy turned to them. "I've got to stay with the House, Prefect duties and what-not, but Fred and George will come with you three-"

"Guys, you don't have to come along. It's just going to be a boring ghost party in the dungeon. Seriously," Ron said while grabbing Harry and Hermione's hands and turning around. "Just head back to the Great Hall for the feast."

Fred and George stepping in their path stopped them from leaving.

"If it's just going to be some boring party-" George began.

"Then there's no reason we can't come along." Fred finished.

Ron rolled his eyes as Percy gave the twins a nod and walked back into the Great Hall. "Why do you two want to come along?"

As the group of, now five, people resumed walking, George answered. "Because last Halloween you were nearly flattened by a troll which, by the way, came from the dungeon. Did you really think we weren't going to notice when you and the other two trouble magnets walked past the Hall?"

"Kinda, yeah." Ron answered, eyes focused forward as they descended the steps into the frightfully cold dungeons. "None of the teachers have noticed so why would you two?"

"First of all, ouch." Fred said, faking a hurt expression. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Secondly," George continued. "We're family, of course we'd notice before the teachers."

So Ron may have underestimated his brothers and their ability to worry, no big deal. It wasn't like this was a totally new side of the twins Ron was experiencing for the first time ever....or was it really?

They seemed to worry enough last year with the troll and the trial of Pettigrew. Maybe Ron was just noticing it now because he was less worried about someone trying to kill his friend.

The group continued into the dungeons, oblivious to Ron's inner thoughts, and came upon the decorations leading to the party.

The already gloomy dungeons became depressingly spooky as thin, floating, jet black candles lit the path to the party. Blue flames casting an eerie glow really set the Deathday mood. To make matters worse, the temperature, already frightfully cold, continued to drop the further the group descended into the dungeons.

Everyone pulled their robes closer to themselves, Ron bringing his shaking hands up to his quivering lips in an attempt to blow warm air on them. This helped absolutely nothing and only made the place feel colder.

Before the group could continue further, Fred abruptly thrust out his hand and stopped everyone in their tracks.

"What in the world is that?" Fred questioned in the echoing dungeon.

George raised an eyebrow, shaking hands held under his armpits. "What's what?"

"That." Fred emphasized, gesturing down the ghostly lit hall. "Do you not hear it?"

Straining his ears, Ron listened for whatever had set Fred on edge. Luckily he didn't have to listen for long before the god-awful sound of thousands of fingernails scrapping on chalkboards met his ears.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered to the group, Fred ushering them forward but keeping a step ahead.

"Sounds more like when Mrs Norris fell in that toilet." George whispered back.

Ron furrowed his brow, turning to George as they rounded a corner. "When did Mrs Norris fall in a toilet?"

"First year prank." George nonchalantly waved off. "Tell you later."

Rounding the corner, they found Nearly Headless Nick floating in a doorway decorated with flowing, black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," Nick said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome....so pleased you could come..."

He swept off his plumed hat and ushered them inside.

Ron had to admit it was an incredible sight to behold. The dungeon was filled with hundreds of ghosts, their pearly white, translucent figures drifting around a crowded dance floor. They waltzed to the god-awful sound of thirty musical saws played by an orchestra on a black draped platform.

A chandelier overhead blazed midnight blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

"Shall we have a look around?" Harry suggested, already shuffling towards the edge of the dance floor.

"Careful not to walk through anyone." Ron said while gently tugging George's sleeve, saving him from bumping into a ghostly woman in a frilly frock.

Seeing all these ghosts in one room is....there's no denying that it's cool. As the group skirted around the edge of the dance floor they passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost; The Fat Friar was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his head.

It's undeniably cool.

Ron didn't even know the castle had so many ghosts, sure they float around, but after a year to get used to them they just become a part of Hogwarts. It's no stranger than seeing portrait people moving around, suits of armour pointing them to classes or befriending a real life unicorn.

Ron manages to reign in his laugh at seeing the Bloody Barron, a gaunt staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver blood stains, being given a wide berth by the other ghosts as well.

"Oh no." Ron jolts at Hermione's quiet and frantic whisper, whipping around to face his friend who was ushering them the other way. "Turn back, turn back. I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle-"

"Who?" Harry questioned as the three friends were ushered back, Fred and George taking up the rear and acting as a wall between them and the ghosts.

"She haunts the girls' toilets on the first floor." Hermione elaborates.

"She haunts a toilet?"

"Yes. It's been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it, it's awful trying to go to the loo with her wailing at you-"

"Look, food!" Ron didn't mean to interrupt, really, but he hadn't eaten since lunch and all these ghosts were putting him on edge.

The least this party could offer them was some good food.

With a new fixation acquired, the group hurriedly made their way through the translucent crowd and towards a long table decorated with black drapes. They approached eagerly, Ron practically salivating at the mouth, but all abruptly stopped in their tracks, horrified.

The smell was putrid. Large rotting fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous grey cake shaped like a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words:

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington

Died 31st October, 1492

Ron felt his gut churning while looking at the display of food, one hand pinching his nose and the other covering his mouth. The group watched as a portly ghost approached the table; crouched low with his mouth open wide and walked through the table and a large, dead salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk through it?" Harry curiously questioned the ghosts.

"Almost." The ghost replied sadly while drifting away. "I expect they've let it fester for a while to give it a stronger flavour."

Ron had to fight back the bile crawling up his throat as he turned away from the ghost, the table and tried not to gag.

"Can we move? I feel sick." Hermione asked, voice sounding funny with her nose pinched.

"Way ahead of you. You guys enjoy the party, I need some fresh air." Ron said, already bee-lining for the black draped exit.

Ron barely even noticed George following behind him, too focused on exiting the party and getting away from the rotten smell that was following him. Managing to stumble out of the entry, Ron desperately rushed for one of the cool stone walls and leaned back against it. Slowly lowering to the floor, he barely noticed the hand on his forehead, too busy trying not to lose his stomach.

"Merlin, you really are peaky." George mumbled and Ron could feel his hand on his forehead. "You had more pepperup potion?"

Just the thought of...well anything related to food made his stomach churn harder. "Ugh, don't. Any food is bad right now."

"Well, you're not fevered, from what I can tell anyway, but you are pale - probably could fit right in with the crowd in there." George's attempt at humour was appreciated enough that Ron gave his brother a half smile.

For a while it was just Ron and George sitting quietly together against the cool stone. Ron breathing heavily through his nose while George took to gently rubbing Ron's shoulders.

But even the cool stone and the smell of wet bricks wasn't enough to ward off the rotten stench now leaking from the party.

"Ugh, I gotta go." Ron mumbled while crawling to his feet. "I can still smell it. Tell the others I'm sorry, but I’m heading back to the tower."

"I'll come with you-"

"No." Ron cut George off with a grimace. "I'm just heading back to the tower, maybe turn in early for the night. My stomach is not settling and being at the party is not helping. I'm just gonna sleep."

If anything Ron's dismissal only seemed to increase George's hesitancy, his older brother getting a look on his face. "And as much as I trust you, totally don't by the way, I can at least bring you back to the tower-"

"That's dumb." Ron argued back, already walking down the corridor slowly. "I can make my way back by myself. I'm not five."

"Yeah, but you could find trouble while standing still-"

"That's an exaggeration. Besides, you always say that I'm a part of a trouble trio. The other halves of the trio are still inside, so I'll be fine."

George narrowed his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he pointed at Ron. "You were by yourself when that troll attacked last year-"

"Oh my days, just - go!" Ron furiously pointed back at the party. "I'll be fine, bloody git. Seriously, what's with the hovering just-" Ron grunted as he attempted to shove his brother back towards the entry. "Go!"

George, the prat, got a wicked smirk on his face and Ron felt his brother's body slowly sagging as his weight dropped into his arms.

"Oh no!" George dramatically cried. "I've been hit! Hit with a heavier than bricks spell!"

"That doesn't exist!" Ron cried while attempting to hold up his ox of a brother.

George scoffed. "Course it does, I said it and I'm older so it exists. Whatever will I do!"

"Ugh!" Ron cried and promptly dropped his brother, uncaring, onto the stone floor with a loud thump . "You bloody shit! You're crushing me! Why do you all act so weird!"

Without a glance back, nausea momentarily forgotten, Ron stomped his way back up the corridors and out of the dungeons. The way was still freezing, Ron wrapping his arms around himself once the nausea churned again in his stomach.

"Rotten brothers." Ron grumbled to himself, gently holding his stomach and slowing his stomp to a gentle walk. "Stupid gits, why do they do that shit? Just bothers, the lot of them."

Ron's steps echoed and the halls got lighter with warm candle light, distant chatter from the Great Hall could be heard echoing faintly. Passing one of the large gothic windows, a gentle calm settled over Ron.

The fury he had felt? The churning nausea? The bone weary tiredness?

It all faded away as a gentle cloud of bliss settled over Ron's mind. There was no worry, there was no missed Halloween feast, no rotten smells or worry of homework. There was only calm and bliss and peace.

Distantly, Ron could hear echoes around him, faint noises that hinted at... something happening around him.

He could feel his steps on the stones of the corridors, he could feel the nip of the cold air from outside. There was...a warm and soft texture under his fingers at one point but it wasn't there long. It was replaced by warmth, slippery and wet warmth running over his fingers and hands.

He could hear splashing, like stepping in puddles from rain. There was a shock of cold on his fingers at one point but the warmth remained. Ron only felt panic once in his haze, when there was a lull in movement and sound. There was something by his ear, a hiss, and something slimy but smooth at his feet.

Ron felt dread wash over his body but it faded as soon as it appeared, hushed and washed away like ripples on a lake.

The slimy feeling disappeared and the echoes came back, hollow and distant while Ron continued to float. The nothingness was calming, there was no yesterday or today or tomorrow only this, here and now. There was no worry, just vague feelings and echoing noises.

Ron wasn't sure how long he was gone, it felt like a lifetime between where he was and...where ever he was now.

Ron was so confused by the soft drapes and red colouring- wait, no, this was the boys dorms in the tower. It was dark, barely a flicker of candles lit the room and the moon was covered by clouds now.

....How did he get here?

"Ugh." Ron groaned, feeling so sluggish like he'd woken up from the best and deepest sleep of his life.

As he brought a hand to rub his forehead, something wet and slippery rubber there and across his cheek. Ron rubbed his forehead and cheek again, hoping to collect the slippery substance on his fingers. It was hard to see in the dark but, judging by the feeling on his fingers, Ron could tell it was all over his hands.

With another groan, Ron rolled up his sleeves, hoping to save his robes from the substance, and made his way to the bathroom. The candles lit themselves, always automatically sensing the presence of people, and Ron squinted at the assaulting light. He padded over to the mirror, hoping to see what covered his hands and...fingers...

There is a difference, Ron had once been told by Mum, between a scream of shock and a scream of fright. The twins constantly drew screams of shock from him with their pranks, the worst one being the teddy they had turned into a spider.

The scream Ron let out, one that seemed to echo in the tower, was a pure blood curdling scream of terror. Covered head to toe in blood, smeared on his face and robes while the red liquid dripped from his fingers and face. Brown feathers were stuck in his robes, matted with drying blood from something.

Ron looked at himself and only saw a monster.

Chapter Text

Scrub, scrub, scrub , scrub, scrub, scrub-

Ron didn't know how long he was there nor did he care. There was too much blood everywhere, on the floor, on the sink, on him-

A stuttered breath left Ron's mouth as tears splashed on the bathroom tiles and watered down the- the- Ron nearly retched, again. Ron's bedding, pillows and all, laid in a bathtub along with his robes. Once Ron was finished scrubbing those would all be burned to ashes.

Ron choked on his breath, again.

Skin red, angry and irritated, and now in his pajamas, Ron swiftly took his wand and cast a spell - Incendio. Ron had been reading up with Hermione and practicing his wand movements in his free time, the spell worked. Sparks of fire danced from Ron's wand tip and caught on his sheets and robe.

Tears still streaming from his eyes, Ron watched the items burn in the bathtub. When the flames started to climb, Ron hastily turned on the shower head and bath tap dousing the flames. All that remained were scorched ashes and a blackened bathtub.

Quickly grabbing the wet and flaky pile, Ron chucked the ruined items in a nearby bin before washing off his arms again.

His arms were trembling.

His breath was short.

Ron retched again but nothing came up, stomach emptied long ago.

Taking a deep breath through his mouth, Ron shakily made his way out of the bathroom and back to his bed. Along the way he snatched up another bin and left it by his bedside, a precaution, and sat on his new sheets. Ron closed his eyes only to shoot them open when all he could see was red.

Another deep breath in and out.

Ron starfished out on his bed, not bothering to crawl under the covers, and stared up at his canopy. The red above him, to the side of him, around him , tormented Ron - a constant reminder. Rolling onto his side, Ron closed his eyes tightly, hands white knuckled on his sheets and pillows, and cried.

Ron jolted up in bed when his shoulder was roughly shaken, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness to see, "Harry?"

"Hey." The other boy greeted, face grim. "Where were you?"

"What?" Ron intelligently replied.

"After the party, the Deathday Party, where were you?"

It took a moment for Ron's brain to catch up with what Harry was asking so suddenly, even longer to remember what he had been doing earlier that evening. The Deathday party felt like a lifetime ago, such a foggy and nauseating memory.

His already queasy stomach at the rotten food, the calm fog and then he was standing in front of the mirror-

"I came here." Ron quickly omits. "I wasn't feeling well from the rotten food, so I came back to the tower." 

"And that's it?" Harry asked, face still twisted in worry.

"I mean, I went to the loo but I don't think you wanted to know that. What's this all about?"

Harry bit his bottom lip, eyes darting around the room before hesitantly landing back on Ron.

"There was an attack." Harry whispered and Ron felt his stomach simultaneously flip and drop. "On Mrs Norris, Filch's cat, and weird writing on a wall. Seems like everyone was there - we almost got blamed!"

"Really? What for? You were at the Deathday Party?" The change of topic comes too easy from Ron, drawing away from his own strange behaviour for the night.

"It was Filch and Snape who blamed us." Harry told, flopping onto his own bed. "Well, Snape actually helped us....sorta. He said we might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, which was true."

"We? Who's we?"

"Hermion, Fred, George and myself, obviously."

Harry didn't need to say anything more before Ron was up and jogging for the stairs. Racing up the winding staircase and barging into the fourth year dorms, Ron found the boys huddled around his brother's beds.

All eyes snapped to him and Ron jogged for his brother's sides, standing between their beds. "You two-"

"So, Harry snitched huh?" George asked, a smile ticking up on his face.

"Look at him," Fred said, a grin stretching on his face. "All worried about his bwig bwothers. How sweet-"

"Stop it!" Ron scolded, brow furrowed and sweat beading on his forehead while his hands shook. "Are you two ok, yes or no?"

Fred and George shared a look, eyes holding a conversation only they were privy to. When they faced Ron again, they answered in tandem. "Of course we're alright, we didn't do anything."

"The most worrisome thing is McGonagall thinking we should post-pone the house sleepover." Fred lamented.

"I think the writing was pretty strange." Ron jumped as Lee Jordan's voice came from one of the four posters on Fred's bed. "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware. Pretty fuckin' ominous. What is the Chamber of Secrets anyway?"

A murmur rang among the boys in Fred and George's dorm, yet Ron's eyes stayed trained on his brothers. Both of them shot a glance at the other, nothing more than a twitch of their eyes and a slight movement in their hands. Yet Ron couldn't help but wonder what they were silently talking about.

With the looks on their faces it was nothing good.

"What writing?" Ron questioned Lee Jordan, choosing to ignore his brothers for now.

Lee Jordan looked at him like he'd grown an extra head. "The writing on the wall? Out in the Entrance Hall, everyone saw it after dinner. Looked like it was written in blood."

Ron's stomach churned once again, eyes going wide as he shakily sat down on Fred's bed. Ron could almost feel phantom rivets of red dripping from his fingers.

A hand on his forehead startled Ron out of his waking nightmare, Fred giving him a worried look as his hand traveled to his cheeks.

"You alright, Ron? You've gone pretty pale." Fred pointed out, furrow between his brows.

Ron could only swallow past the lump in his throat and shake his head 'no' at the question.

"You weren't feeling too good were you?" George piped up. "You came back here before the party was even over, still not feeling well?"

Finally, Ron nodded and shakily rose to his feet, Fred and George quickly following. Fred placed his hand, guiding and surprisingly gentle, on Ron's back while George called out behind them, "We're gonna get him back downstairs. Don't wait up."

When no one was looking, Fred moved his arm and pulled Ron in for a side hug, guiding him down the stairs with George. When they entered Ron's dorm, Harry was still wide awake, sitting at the window. Harry's head swiveled and he stared at them like an owl would, large eyes and glasses shining in the moonlight.

"Ron." Harry gently whispered, speed walking over to the trio of Weasley's. "You alright mate?"

"Mind looking after him for us?" Fred whispered back, gently pushing Ron into Harry's arms. "He's still looking...Well, he actually looks worse now-"

"We already told Percy when he cornered us after the meeting with the teachers." George continued. "He'll come by in the morning with something, we're sure. But, for tonight, d'you mind watching him? We'd do it-"

"Or pawn him off to Percy." Fred interjected.

"But we need to stay in our rooms." George continued. "McGonagall will have our heads if we're out of our rooms. She'll know too."

"How does she always know?" Fred whispered.

George rolled his eyes. "She's McGonagall, been teaching Weasley's since Mum and Dad were here, probably other family members too. She always knows."

"I'll watch him." Harry promised, Ron could feel Harry's arms tightening around him in a hug. Ron could only let his head thunk down onto Harry's shoulder.

It was awkward, what with Ron being taller than Harry, but he didn't care; not when his world was shifting too quickly. Not when splatters of red were seared into his closed eyelids.

The boys didn't stay up long after Fred and George left. It was already late when Harry got back and now it was approaching what someone could consider early. Harry kindly helped Ron into his bed, grabbing an extra throw blanket for him too.

With a bin already placed near his bed and a croaky promise to wake Harry if things got worse, Ron drifted into a frightful sleep. More horrors flashed in his mind's eye, slithering and sinking fangs into his very soul. Ron nearly punched Percy in the morning, his brother leaning over his bed to feel his forehead and waking him with a start.

The near collision was enough to frighten Ron who jumped back only to groan as his back hit hard headboard. Percy, watching with open worry, handed Ron another pepperup potion and watched as he downed the whole thing. The steam pouring from his ears did nothing to lighten the load on his head or heart.

Days passed and nothing improved for Ron. It didn't help when everyone was silently on edge during the House sleepover. Everyone was distracted and theorising about one thing or another. 

It did nothing but make Ron's stomach churn as he curled up with Harry and Hermione. 

He refused to let even a hint of what had happened that night slip to anyone. What he had done. Walking past the corridor with the writing was a test to Ron's power of will as his stomach churned dangerously at the writing on the wall.

Clear as day and dark red staining the stone walls, Ron could clearly read the message.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE

Even as they saw Filch furiously scrubbing at the words with 'Mrs Skowers All-Perpous Magical Mess Remover' the words didn't even scratch. Harry and Hermione, thankfully, didn't mention his clear aversion to the corridor, instead they followed him down the long way to the dungeons.

Ron knew he must have been in bad shape when, on one chilled morning, Errol came screeching into the Great Hall with multiple letters along with Hedwig. There were three letters dropped into Ron's barely touched porridge, all sealed in brown envelopes. Each one was addressed to him, one from Mum and Dad, one from Bill and one from Charlie.

Mum and Dad's letter made his shoulders hunch.

Ronald,

Are you feeling alright, dear? Percy's written to us, not unusual since one of you boys had to keep us informed, but he's said you've been ill. Not even the Pepperup potions are helping, he said.

Oh, I wish I could send you the whole stock of family remedies we have, but, for now, I've packed some tea leaves and turmeric for you. It's an old witches tale, a bit muggle really, but it does the trick according to our book of remedies. Add some honey to help, dear, I know you prefer things a little sweet.

If it gets worse, go to the hospital wing, you hear me? I won't even be upset if I get a letter from them just, feel better soon, you hear?

Or, so help me, I'll march into Hogwarts myself and drag you there.

We love you, Ron.

Love, Mum and Dad.

Accompanying the letter was a small packet of dried tea leaves and, what was probably, turmeric shavings. Ron gently tucked the gifts into his robes before unfolding Charlie's letter.

Ron, are you really sick?

Don't get me wrong, being sick is fine, it's just, well, you haven't been sick since you were, what, 6? Maybe 7? I blame all the weird shit you ate as a kid or that the twins forced down your throat.

Seriously, do you know the heart attack Bill and I had when we thought little Ronnie was just making mud pies in the garden, only to look out and see you eating them? I think Bill nearly broke the back door that day, probably why it still scrapes on the wood now.

Sorry, major side track aside, are you ok? Word's been traveling on the grapevine that you're not feeling well. And by grapevine, I mean the twins. You know how weird it was to receive a letter from them?

Spooky is what it is, they never send letters.

They're worried, Ron. Everyone is.

If you need a few days off, just go to Madam Pomfrey, she may seem mean, but she cares, trust me. Just, don't do what you did last year, ok?

Tell someone when something is bothering you or if you're not getting better.

Or I'll write to Percy and he's awful about this stuff, you know he is.

Wishing you a dragon's luck (It's a saying! Trust me, they have great luck),

Charlie

Charlie's letter at least made him smile, if only a little.

Bill's letter....Ron quickly remembered why it was so hard to hide anything in the Weasley family.

Ron, I swear to Merlin and whatever Muggles believe in,

The twins wrote to me, THE TWINS! Seriously, if you're sick just head up to the medical wing and Madame Pomfery can help. There's no use to try and tough something out when you've got people willing to help.

Seriously though, are you alright? You don't have to write to us, obviously, but I thought you would have sent a letter by now. Instead my first letters are from Percy and the Twins to tell me you're sick. Promise me you'll reach out if it gets worse?

To anyone, not just me.

You've got a whole family looking out for you, Ron. And friends too, I bet Hermione and Harry are worried about you too.

Just, don't be a reckless idiot, ok? People want to help you, you just have to reach out.

Love you, idiot.

From, Bill.

Ron pocketed each letter in his messenger bag, carefully placing them so they wouldn't wrinkle while letting Errol eat his porridge. It wasn't like Ron didn't want to reach out, he did! Waking up covered in.... red.... that was scary.

Terrifying actually.

The first thing he'd wanted to do, besides having a shower, was run and find his brothers or Harry or Hermione or...anyone who could help. He didn't want to burn his robes or hide anything, but the thought of going to someone....there was something stopping him. A physical force, like a barrier blocking him from even thinking about going to anyone.

That was terrifying.

Magic was amazing, Ron and everyone knew that, but it was also frightening. That's why classes like Defense Against The Dark Arts existed, because there was bad magic. Just like there were bad wizards and witches.

Ron was missing memory, he couldn't remember leaving the castle the day he visited Hagrid or how he got to that bathroom after his detention. He couldn't remember what he did on Halloween after leaving the party and then he was covered in feathers and...other stuff. It was too freaky, way too freaky, to be a coincidence.

If this was the result of dark magic, Ron had to figure out the cause and fast before anything worse happened. Mrs Norris was already frozen or, what was the word Hermione used... petrified. If Ron was the cause of that, well, he could kiss any hope of living a normal life out the window.

But how could you find out if you were affected by Dark Magic? Ron would ask the DADA professor, but, unfortunately, the current one was an idiot. Quirrel from last year was no help either, not to mention the man was sharing a body with you-know-who.

"Hey, Ron." Jumping a little, Ron swiveled his head to face Harry who was holding out a small bag of lollies to him. At Ron's questioning eyebrow raise, Harry explained. "They're from Serius and Remus, they sent me a letter and asked I give this to you. There's some for Hermione and myself too."

Accepting the gift with a small smile, Ron asked. "I didn't know you were writing to those two."

"Serius insisted. It's been really nice to have people to write to who, you know, read my letters." Harry smiled, full of content.

A major improvement from last year.

"That's great, mate." Ron gave his best friend a smile, gently bumping their shoulders together. "Give them my thanks, please. These look really nice."

The day wore on and Ron found himself dragged into the library with Hermione, Harry having been kept back after potions by Snape. Ruler in hand, Ron sluggishly measured the length of his parchment, groaning and rubbing his head when the parchment was still too short.

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches too short." There was some snickering from some older boys before they made themselves scarce. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing is tiny. Stupid Bins, stupid History of Magic homework."

"Where's Hermione?" Ron startled, turning to face Harry who was pulling out his own homework, desperate to make the 3 feet minimum Bins had set. "We could ask her for help."

Ron waved over to the area Hermione had disappeared to. "Somewhere over there. Looking for another book, I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas. And don't even think of asking her. I did and was turned down faster than Seamus when he asked for Flitwick to drop his water spell in charms."

Harry grimaced before mentioning his little run in with Justin Flinn-Fletchy. Well, not a run in because the other boy, whom they'd only interacted with in Herbology, ran when Harry waved.

"Just ignore him." Ron whispered to Harry. "It's like last year. I think people are assuming things just because of....the writing."

Ron didn't have to guess about that, he knew. He'd heard whispers in passing, mumbles under breaths about Harry, Hermione, Fred and George the night Ron was in the tower. Whispers about who could have done something like that.

Whispers about a monster.

It made Ron's skin crawl and fear, now an ever present parasite in his life, boil in his gut. He would usually fight back against accusations like that, especially directed to his friends and brothers. Instead of rage, Ron was ashamed to admit he would cower and duck his head; unwilling for the attention to shift to him.

"But we didn't do that-!"

"I know." Ron interrupted Harry's surprisingly loud shout. "But the Hogwarts rumour mill is turning as it always does. Just ignore them. Justin was a bit of an idiot anyway, all that stuff about how great Lockhart is-"

Hermione emerged from the expansive bookshelves, grumpy pout and hair frizzled more than usual.

"All the copies of Hogwarts: A History have been taken out." She grumbled while plopping into the seat next to Ron. "And there's a two week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockheart books."

Ron and Harry shared a confused look before Harry, the brave soul, asked. "Why do you want it?"

"The same reason everyone else wants it." Hermione answered curtly. "To read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?"

"That's just it, I can't remember." Hermione whined, slumping and letting her head rest on Ron's shoulder. "And I can't find the story anywhere else."

"You could always send an owl." Ron suggested while rolling up his parchment, ignoring the barely there guilt at not having the full three feet. "You can borrow Errol or I could ask Percy if you can borrow Hermes. Hey, you could ask Harry. Might give Hedwig something to do."

Harry gave a shrug. "I don't mind, if you need it that badly."

The joy that lit up Hermione's face was contagious and Ron found himself feeling lighter as the bell for class rang. Even if he hadn't finished the homework, could you blame Ron? He's been plagued by nightmares and visions for days, a bit of missed homework wasn't the end of the world, especially History of Magic homework.

Didn't mean he didn't feel guilty turning in his two inches too short parchment to Professor Bins, the ghost barely offering a disapproving tut before shooing Ron off to his seat. He wasn't the only one to turn in short homework, didn't mean it felt good though.

Moving past the scathing looks of disappointment, Ron didn't even try to hide his boredom as class started. Professor Bins was easily the most boring teacher at Hogwarts and his lectures were dull enough to put even Hermione to sleep. Ron was desperately looking at the clock, begging it to hurry up so he could escape this class when, half an hour in, something new happened.

Hermione raised her hand.

Professor Binnes, glancing up in the middle of his deathly dull lecture about the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looking amazed. "Miss - er -"

"Granger, Professor." Hermione said, lowering her hand. "I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Ron, like everyone else in the room, seemed to jolt awake from the mention of something interesting. Ron snickered quietly at Seamus who nearly slipped out of his seat from the shock. The Irish boy sent a glare towards him before all attention snapped back to Binnes and Hermione.

"My subject is History of Magic," Binnes said in a dry wheezing voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat, voice cracking like snapping chalk and tried to return to his lecture.

"In September of that year, a sub-committee of Sardeenian sorcerers-" He was interrupted again by Hermione's hand shooting straight up.

"Miss Grant-?"

"Granger." Head's snapped over to Ron who was staring down Professor Binnes with a bored glare.

"Pardon me?" Binnes stuttered.

"You're excused and her name is Granger, Hermione Granger, not Grant. Please respect her name - all of ours." Ron was too bored to put up with people, a teacher, not remembering the students' names. Especially when Hermione had already corrected him once not moments prior.

"Granger," Binnes enunciated, returning to his conversation with Hermione. That was fine, Ron could put up with another teacher's ire if it meant his friends were respected. 

Hermione sent him a grateful smile before continuing her question. "Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in facts?"

The class, and Binnes, stared in amazement as Hermione continued to ask. This must be a Hogwarts first, a student willingly asking a question and interrupting Binnes' lecture.

"Well," said Professor Binnes, slowly. "yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you seek is a very sensational tale, ludicrous even-"

Ron could see the exact moment Professor Binnes realized everyone in the room was actually paying attention, for once. Every head in the room was up, eyes open, and hanging off Professor Binnes words.

His resolve crumbled like a wet paper towel.

"Oh, very well." He conceded with a sigh. "Let me see...the Chamber of Secrets. You all know  of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago?"

Multiple heads nodded and Professor Binnes continued. "It was founded by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

As Professor Binnes continued his story, people were taking notes or listening with rapt attention. "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others."

'Seemed that rift remains', Ron thought bitterly.

The story continued. "Slytherin wished to be more..." Binnes threw a wary glance around the room, eyes lingering on a few muggle students. " Selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magical families. He disliked taking students of muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy."

"After a while," Binnes ghostly form gently floated in place. "there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school. Reliable historical sources tell us this much, but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

It was like everyone moved forward slightly in their seats, all on edge and ready to hear about the fanciful legend.

Professor Binnes gratefully continued. "The legend goes that Slytherin built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to legend, sealed the Chamber so none would be able to open it until his one, true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber, unleash the horror within, and purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

An uneasy silence settled over the room, heads spinning with that awful knowledge. If that legend was true, then nearly the whole student body would fall victim to this 'horror', whatever that meant.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course." Binnes continued with a scowl on his face. "The school has been searched for evidence of such a Chamber, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale to frighten the gullible."

Ron felt his own stomach turning and quietly admitted to himself that he was ok being gullible. Especially after Halloween.

Hermione gently raised her hand and Binnes nodded to her. "Sir - what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the heir of Slytherin alone can control." Professor Binnes answered to more deathly silence.

The silence barely lasted a moment before more questions and concerns were being raised but Ron tuned the wall of noise out. The writing on the wall had not faded, and Ron's memories had not returned of that night. A horror within the school?

Ron's toes curled and his fingers dug into the old wooden desk. This was too much, too many coincidences to be gently brushed aside.

....Was Ron....did Ron release that horror?

Or was Ron the horror?

Either thought was just as bad as the last and had Ron's fingernails digging in the wood of his desk, barely noticing the splintering pain from  the old wood.

The end of class was just as bad as class had been, now Ron had time to stew over the new information about the Chamber. He replayed Halloween over and over in his head, trying to remember anything from his departure at the party and waking up in the tower. Nothing stuck out, all shrouded in a hazy fog of forgetfulness before it was stained red.

Ron barely registered that he briefly passed Collin Creevey, giving a half-hearted wave to the bouncing boy.

"You alright, Ron?" Harry's voice and a gentle hand on his elbow startled Ron horribly, he would have dropped his books if it wasn't for Hermione's quick hand.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Ron brushed off their concerns, getting a hold on his books again. "Just...thinking about all that. I mean, I knew Slytherin was a loony, but - that's...what he wanted to do was awful."

Hermione and Harry nodded along, both falling silent as the trio parted from the main crowded halls and ducked into a, seemingly, abandoned hallway. However, the hallway wasn't abandoned, it was being avoided . The bold, red, dripping letters being a clear indicator as to why.

They'd wound up back at the crime scene.

"D'you think there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked Hermione, trying his best to avoid the glaring, red words.

"I don't know." She answered, both her and Harry focused on the stained letters. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well, human."

Ron shuddered at the implication, wishing beyond hope that it was true; The monster. 

....Did that make him a bad person? To wish there really was a monster lurking around the school rather than...him? Ron shuddered and turned away from the letters, hoping to focus on anything else-

"What's that?" Ron asked, making his way over to a nearby wall and rubbed at a black mark seared into the stonework.

"What's what?" Harry asked from behind him.

"This." Ron pointed to the mark as Harry kneeled next to him.

Harry gently ran his fingertips along the mark, brow furrowing. "It's a scorch mark, but why's it here?"

"You two! Look at this." Hermione called out.

Ron twisted around and found Hermione next to one of the gothic windows. Harry wasted no time in jogging over, but Ron was frozen in place, hands braced on the wall behind him.

Spiders. Thousands of spiders.

The disgusting creatures were moving in a scattered pattern, all rushing to escape through a tiny crack in the windowpane. The little menaces were scuttling around like a black cloud of dust with too many legs.

"Have you ever seen spiders move like that?" Hermione asked Harry.

"No." Harry said, looking completely unphazed standing so close to the horrors. "Have you, Ron? Ron?"

Harry had twisted around to face him, Hermione too, as they both watched him questioning his place at the wall.

"I - don't - like - spiders." Ron forced out, eyes glued on the little monsters, watching to be sure they wouldn't come close to him.

"I never knew that." Hermione sounded genuine, but Ron could spot the hint of a smile twitching on her face. "You've used spiders in potions loads of times..."

Ron swallowed past the lump in his throat, eyes locked on the menaces. "I don't mind them dead....I just....don't like the way they move-"

Hermione giggled and Ron's face bloomed in a furious blush. "It's not funny!"

"This is because of your brothers, right? Fred and George?" Harry, the traitor, was also giggling into his fist. "When they turned your toy into a spider?"

"It was my favourite stuffed bear, thank you very much. And you'd both be scared of them too if you went through what I did!" Ron shouted, eyes darting from his friends, to the spiders and back again. "One minute I'm hugging my bear and the next there's too many legs and..."

Ron shivered in disgust while the two giggle buddies continued to smirk at him, at least, that was until Harry's brow was furrowing and he was looking to the floor curiously.

"Remember all that water on the floor? Someone's mopped it up. Where did it come from?" Harry questioned Hermione.

Hermione stepped lightly forward, following imaginary puddles. "It was about here, level with this door."

Without giving it a second thought, Hermione pushed open the door and waved both Ron and Harry in. Ron gave Harry a look, both boys wondering when Hermione would notice. They didn't have to wait long before her bushy haired self popped out the door again.

"Well?" She asked impatiently. "Are you coming?"

"We can't go in there. That's the girls' toilets." Ron said, pointing to the sign on the door to which Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in here. This is Moaning Myrtle's toilet. Come on, let's have a look."

Ron was dragged into the bathroom by Hermione's grip on his wrist. The bathroom was horribly gloomy with depressing and dark corners, chipped sinks and damp, stone floors. The few candles in the room did nothing to lighten the atmosphere, instead making the gloom more present.

It was dark, it was depressing and it was.... familiar.

Ron took in the chipped and rotting wooden cubicles, the cracked sinks and the smell of old water. This was too familiar, like Ron had been here before.

When he saw Myrtle's ghostly visage sitting on the cistern of the toilet, Ron had an awful wave of recognition wash over him. The night of his detention, Ron had found himself in a bathroom with a gloomy ghost girl. Myrtle was that ghost girl, he had found himself in her bathroom all those nights ago.

Cold dread pooled in Ron's stomach as he quickly hid behind the rotting cubical wood, using Harry as an extra, sort of short, shield.

Harry gave him an odd look but never got to question him as Hermione greeted Myrtle. "Hello Myrtle, how are you?"

"This is a girls bathroom." Ron's stomach twisted at the familiar voice, the same one he'd heard that night too. "They're not girls."

Ron could barely listen to Hermione's reply, didn't want to for that matter. Instead of taking his chances, Ron quietly moved away from Harry and Hermione and made his way deeper into the bathroom.

Why was his stomach doing somersaults? Why did his breath feel short? There was no reason to panic here.

OK, so what? He'd ended up back here a while ago after his detention, it wasn't that big of a deal. So why did it feel like a catastrophic event to him? Ron was sweating worse than when he was at Peter Pettigrew's trial last year, a convicted murderer.

Why was the thought of telling his friends he'd been here before causing such horrid fear through his being?

Ron found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror above a sink. He was still himself, still a shock of red hair, freckles, lanky limbs and round face. So why did he feel so...so...

Monstrous.

A piercing wail, directly followed by a splash shocked Ron out of his staring. Turning around, he found both Harry and Hermione soaked in, what he could only assume was, toilet water.

"You right there you two?" Ron asked, a small smile tugging on his lips.

The deadpan look Harry shot him made that smile into a splitting grin.

"Peachy." Harry bit out, flicking water off his hands.

"Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle....come on, let's go." Hermione said, already making her way to the door.

"What were you doing over here?" Harry asked him as Hermione opened the door.

"Nothing." Ron replied, thanking Hermione as he stepped out of the bathroom. "Just looking for clues, you know. Blimey, there's water everywhere in that bathroom-"

"RON!" The shockingly loud shout had Ron jumping, even Harry and Hermione startled.

Percy was there, Prefect badge gleaming and face contorted into shock-horror. Ron could honestly say that they, or he, was in deep shit.

"That's a girl's bathroom." Percy harshly whispered, marching up to their trio. "What were you-?"

"Investigating." Ron shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Having a look around for clues, you know...?"

In times like this, where Percy's face swelled and contorted in barely hidden rage like mum's did, Ron was reminded how alike mother and son were.

"Get away from there, all three of you!" Percy fiercely whispered, flapping his arms like he was herding cats or chickens. "Coming here after all this. Now I've got to worry about you, the twins and these two-"

"Hey! None of them did anything!" Ron shouted back, flapping his own arms back at Percy. "What happened to Mrs Norris wasn't any of their faults!"

Ron yelped when Percy pinched his arm through his robe. "What the hell!"

"I know that!" Percy hissed to Ron, leaning down to be eye level with him. "You think I don't believe our own brothers? They may be pains in the arse, but they're not killers, or...petrifiers I suppose....whatever. The point is, this is bad Ron."

Percy stood back up, turning to face all of them with grave expressions. "The fact of the matter is, something did harm Mrs Norris that night and only Harry, Hermione, Fred and George were seen with her. I know you didn't do anything, but the rumours circling are worse than the ones from last year."

"Just..." Percy blew out a harsh breath, shoulders sagging and looking older than he ever had. "Don't go causing trouble at the moment, please. I've got enough on my plate trying to keep whispers about Fred and George to a minimum, don't go giving anyone a reason to make more."

Ron quickly lost his fire at the clear turmoil Percy was going through, looking like the weight of the world was resting heavy on his slumped shoulders. Or, at the very least, the weight of being the oldest Weasley sibling at Hogwarts.

Swallowing past the guilt clogging his throat, Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, Percy. Wasn't really thinking about that..."

Percy's deadeye stare made Ron's shoulders bunch further in guilt. "Is it really that bad?"

"Worse." Percy whispers, gently grabbing Ron's shoulder and herding the other two to follow them. "It's so much worse. No one liked Mrs Norris, but you don't just declare a threat like that and expect nothing to change."

Ron let himself fall into step with Percy, bringing his brother in for a side hug as they walked, Ron tucking himself under Percy's arm. "Sorry, Percy. We...we just want to clear this whole mess up."

Nothing was said for a moment, the only sound being all their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

"Then, for the love of Merlin, be discreet with your investigating." Percy whispered. "And maybe learn a stealth charm or two, idiot."

With a quick squeeze, Percy quickly darted off towards the Great Hall leaving a stunned trio in his wake.

Ron gently tugged on Harry's robe. "Mate, pinch me. There's no way I'm living in a world where Percy just encouraged us to sneak around."

"I think we've all gone mad." Harry unhelpfully supplied.

That night, after a hearty dinner, the trio were working on their quickly multiplying homework pile. The teachers were giving no leniency or mercy even with all this drama now circling the school. Ron's skin felt itchy, prickling with a need that he was now familiar with, the need to write in the diary still hidden under his pillow.

The itch was too distracting and Ron slammed shut his book of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and flopped back on the carpeted floor. Surprisingly, Hermione followed suit.

"Who can it be though?" Hermione whispered, biting her lip. "Who'd want all the Squibs and Muggle-born's out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," Ron said, sarcasm bleeding heavily into his words. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-Born's are scum?"

Hermion peered over him, face pinched in exasperation. "If you're talking about Malfoy-"

"Of course I'm talking about Malfoy!" Ron nearly shouted, quickly sitting up and nearly headbutting Hermione. "Just look at what he's always doing, he's not shy about his dislike of anyone Muggle-Born or anyone not in Slytherin."

"Malfoy, the heir of Slytherin?" Hermione still questioned.

"Look at his family," Harry helpfully mentioned. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin, he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could have had the key for centuries, passing it down from father to son." Ron continued.

"I suppose it's a possibility." Hermione agreed.

"But how would we prove it?" Harry asked, finally closing his Charms textbook.

"Well...there might be a way." Hermione quickly shot a look around the room, leaning towards them and dropping her voice into a near inaudible whisper. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect."

"Would it be discreet?" Ron questioned, thinking back to Percy's advice earlier.

"Mostly." Hermione shot another look around the room. "What we'd need to do is get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realising it's us."

"But that's impossible." Harry stated the obvious.

"No it's not." Hermione refuted. "All we'd need is a polyjuice potion."

"What's that?" Ron and Harry said together.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago-"

"You think we've got nothing better to do in potions than listen to Snape?" Ron questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Ron's been showing me the Quidditch teams in potions." Harry admitted happily, both boys sharing a high five.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but powered on. "It transforms you into someone else. Think about it! We could transform into three Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."

"This polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me." Harry whispered. "What if we get stuck looking like three Slytherins forever?"

Hermione waved off his concern. "It wears off after a while. But, getting a hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Most Potent Potions and it's in the Restricted Section of the library."

There was only one way to get a book from the Restriction Section, you needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"Hard to see why we'd need the book." Harry said, head in his palm. "Unless we were going to make a potion."

"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance..."

"What if we didn't ask for it?" Ron said, chin in hand and looking around the common room. "What if we had someone else ask for it."

"And who would be willing to ask for a book from the Restricted Section for us?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ron's eyes drifted over to Percy who was telling off some third years from harassing a few first years.

"You can't be serious?" Harry asked. "Really?"

"He just told us to be more sneaky. I....I don't think he'd be against this. Fred and George'd probably help too."

"Are you sure we can ask?" Hermione questioned.

"He'd be more believable than us asking. Percy's a Prefect and known to the teachers. I doubt anyone except Snape would even think twice about him asking." Ron said while his eyes followed Percy as he circled the common room like a prowling lion. 

Chapter Text

"You want me to what?" Percy's incredulous voice had Ron's shoulders hiking up to his ears.

"We want you to borrow the book Most Potent Potions from the Restricted Section and give it to us-" Ron re-explained.

"So we can make the polyjuice potion-" Hermione interrupted.

"So we can sneak into the Slytherin Common Room and see who opened the Chamber." Harry finished.

The longer Percy stared at them the more nervous Ron felt about all of this. Sure, it was his idea, but standing in front of Percy and asking was a lot different than talking about doing it. Percy had certainly changed from the hardass he knew, but he was still Percy.

Why on Earth would he ever-

"If I do this for you three," Percy began, the trio's eyes locking onto his own. "You absolutely can not tell anyone about this. No one....except Fred and George if it's needed. Am I clear?"

"Crystal!" Ron tried desperately not to shout as his brother caved.

"Good. Once I have the book, where am I meeting you? I can't just hand over a restricted book to 2nd year's."

"The bathroom you found us at the other day, the one near the writing." Hermione said. "No one ever goes in there, so no one will see you handing it to us."

Percy gave a nod and nodded towards his dorm room door. "I'll be there after lunch, now get out of here."

Ron fought back the grin that wanted to split across his face at Percy's acceptance and he followed Harry and Hermione. That went much better than what Ron was expecting.

But, when your expectations are for your brother to yell at you then immediately tell a teacher, anything is better than that outcome.

Before Ron could get far, he jerked to a stop as his wrist was grabbed. Looking back, Percy had a worry to his brow again, a common occurrence recently.

"How are you feeling today, Ron?" Percy cautiously asked.

"Me? I'm good, why wouldn't I be?" Ron questioned.

"You've got bags under your eyes again." Percy pointed to his own face, finger scratching his under eye.

Another late night session talking to Tom in the diary will do that. Ron had even started writing to Tom in the dormitory bathroom just to be sure no one would wake up and see him. Tom was one of the few beings able to make the worry of school melt away.

There was something about the diary, as soon as Ron's quill met the pages it was like all his worries bled out of him with the ink as he wrote. It was like nothing Ron had ever experienced before, even his worries about Tom bled away as they talked for hours.

Ron's relaxation and tranquillity came at the cost of precious hours that could be used sleeping, unfortunately.

"I'm fine." Ron brushed off, rubbing at his own undereyes. "Just trouble sleeping with all this going on. I'll feel better once we get that book."

Percy's brow furrowed further, mouth twitching into a grimace before he nodded and released his wrist. "OK, just...let us know if it gets worse. We're all worried, Ron."

"I know. Just get that book and I'll feel better."

"Right. Oh, and Harry? Good luck for Sunday. Knock those Slytherin's off their brooms."

Harry gave a grin and an enthusiastic shout as Ron raced back over to them. The trio made their way downstairs, through the corridors and to their first class Defense Against The Dark Arts.

Lockhart had been banned from bringing live creatures to class after the pixie incident. Instead, he bored them all by reading from his books himself, and constantly calling Harry up to be his acting buddy. Lockhart subjected Harry to performance of his written deeds, casting Harry as any and all manner of creatures.

Look, Harry was Ron's best friend in the whole world tying for a solid first with Hermione, but Harry was Ron's best friend first.

So, as designated best friend, it was Ron's sworn duty to laugh in his face at all of Harry's sarcastic and lacklustre performances. The glasses wearing boy would shoot a glare at him whenever Ron let out a particularly loud snort. But, come on, watching poor Harry try to imitate a werewolf was too funny and perfect of an opportunity to laugh at his friend.

If it helped distract from Lockhart's awful lessons too? That was an added bonus.

"Thanks for the support, best friend." Harry hissed out as they packed up their books.

Ron snickered again. "You'd be laughing too if you saw yourself. Seriously, the drooping shoulders and that little awoo? Priceless."

"You're the worst."

Ron's grin stretched wider. "Hey, I'm not that bad. Afterall, I could tell Remus and Sirius about these performances-"

Ron was cut off with peeling laughter as Harry took one of Lockhart's books and smacked his arm with it. Ron would be worried if he couldn't see the hint of a grin creeping on Harry's own face.

"You wouldn't dare." Harry hissed again, grin stretching.

"Try me, Potter."

Both boys broke into joyful giggles at Ron's exaggerated Malfoy accent. It had become a joke among their year level recently, so many people had heard the hissed name it became funny.

Stubbed your toe on a wall? You'd hiss "Watch yourself, Potter."

Dropped your quill? "How dare you, Potter."

Even just hissing Potter was enough to have their grade snickering quietly.

"What's going on here boys?" The smiles and laughter quickly stopped as Lockhart approached the trio. "I sure hope that's not one of my books. Honestly, Gadding with Ghouls is a much better read than a weapon."

Without anyone prompting him, Lockhart leant against the desk Hermione had been using and began another 'Harrowing tale'. The self-absorbed git launched into a tale where he'd bested some other fantastic beast in combat.

With a wistful sigh, Lockhart turned his dopey grin to Harry. "So, Harry, tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the national squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a bit of private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players..."

Ron rolled his eyes at Lockhart while quickly ushering Harry out the classroom door before him. Best not stick around Lockhart too long, lest he think Harry's actually interested.

—---------

That afternoon, the trio raced down to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and, upon reaching the corridor, found Percy waiting diligently for them. In his arms, held close to his chest, was a large and mouldy looking book. Percy gave them a nod and quickly ushered them into the bathroom before he hastily closed the door.

"Alright, here." Percy passed the large book to Hermione. "As promised, Most Potent Potions."

"Thank you, Percy!" They all said together, the call echoing in the room while Hermione tore open the book.

"Who'd you ask?" Ron questioned while Hermione skimmed through the brown and damp spotted pages.

"Lockheart, of course. He's an imbecile, didn't even look at the book I wanted to borrow." Percy scoffed.

Ron gave a snort of laughter as Hermione called them both over, she'd found the potion they needed.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen." Hermione said while Ron studied the, frankly horrific, drawings of people half way through transforming into others. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed and knotgrass. Those are easy enough, they're in the student store cupboard, we can help ourselves."

Hermione continued. "Powdered horn of a bicorn - no idea where we're going to get that...Shredded skin of a boomslang- that'll be tricky too - and, of course, a bit of whoever we're changing into."

Ron startled at that last bit. "Excuse me? What d'you mean 'a bit of whoever we're changing into?' I'm drinking nothing with Crabb's toenails in it."

"It won't have to be toenails, Ron." Percy waved off while reading over Hermione's shoulder. "Just a hair or something. And, anyway, we don't have to worry about that for a while. The hardest part will be brewing the potion."

Harry shook his head. "No way, have you seen the ingredients list? Most of this isn't in the student store cupboard, it'll be in Snape's private storeroom-"

"Well, luckily, you have three people willing to grab those ingredients then." Percy smiled.

The golden trio looked at Percy in shock.

"You," Ron pointed at Percy. "Are going to steal...from a teacher?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "No, Ron. When you get in the older years, you're allowed into Snape's storeroom for specific ingredients, used for assessment purposes. I could grab the ingredients or we can ask Fred and George. Merlin knows they have to have a way into that cupboard."

"So we're really doing this then? We're really going to brew this potion?" Harry asked.

Hermione, for once, seemed excited. "I think it's inspired. This is threatening muggle-borns, I think brewing a difficult potion is the least of our worries at the moment."

"Ok, then back to what Percy pointed out earlier, how long will this take to make?" Ron asked.

"A month at least." Percy and Hermione answered easily, Hermione continuing. "You have to pick the fluxweed during a full moon and the lacewings need to be stewed for twenty-one days."

"A month! Malfoy could have attacked half the muggle-borns by then." Ron moaned. "It's the best plan we've got though, so full steam ahead."

Percy gave Ron a nod before turning to Hermione and devising a list of ingredients they would need and where to find them. While they discussed the potion, Ron turned to Harry and quietly whispered. "It'll be a lot less hassle if you can knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."

Harry gave him a nod and a subtle thumbs up.

-----------------

Ron groggily woke on Saturday to Neville gently shaking him.

"Wassat? Go 'way" Ron groaned, head foggy and the tempting pull of sleep cocooning him.

Neville shook his shoulder harder. "Come on, Ron. It's the Quidditch game today, where we're gonna beat Slytherin!"

Ron shot up like a stalk. "Shit! Are we late!?"

"Not yet. The others have already gone to the Great Hall-"

"Merlin's beard, thanks Neville!" Ron shouted while running to his trunk and pulling out his robe and clothes for the day.

As Ron rushed around getting ready in record time, Neville stayed with him until he was ready to go and they both left for breakfast. Hermione met them at the portrait entrance with a stern look.

"Fine day to sleep in, Ron." She grumbled as they raced for the Great Hall.

"Hey, it's not even eleven yet! We've still got time." Ron puffed as they ran past portraits complaining about them running on the staircase. "Just be thankful Neville woke me up."

"I don't blame you for sleeping in. It looked like you had a rough night." Neville said, puffing beside them. "You were tossing and mumbling in your sleep. It was really weird."

"Really?" Ron asked the other boy as they entered the Great Hall. "I've never talked in my sleep before. What was I saying?"

Neville shrugged. "Don't really know. Sounded super weird though, like...well, kinda like when a snake hisses."

Ron's eyebrows furrowed. "So, what, I was talking to snakes in my sleep?"

Hermione sighed. "You were probably so excited for today and connected Slytherin to snakes, or something. Honestly, who even knows how your mind works."

Ron shrugged as they wandered down the Gryffindor table, the Great Hall already crowded. "No idea. Look, you two go find a seat, I'm gonna go wish my brothers good luck."

Hermione and Neville nodded, wandering off together while Ron scanned the sea of people for two familiar red heads. Spotting his two victims, Ron took a running start at them and leapt at them.

What he did not anticipate was Fred turning around and catching him, pinning his arms to his side and laying on top of him.

"No!" Ron screamed out as Fred proceeded to hold him in place, using all his weight to trap Ron in his arms. "Get off me! You weigh as much as a car!"

"You hear something George?" Fred asked as Ron screeched again.

George wiggled a finger in his ear. "Not sure, Fred. Must have been the wind."

"Gits! The both of you!" Ron thrashed in Fred's hold. "Why do I bother-"

"Will you three quit it!" Percy's voice startled them so badly Fred ended up dropping Ron who rolled off his brother.

George was quick to pull Ron up, who brushed off his brother with a smack. "Last time I come to wish you two good luck."

"As if!" George smirked while aggressively ruffling Ron's hair. "How're we supposed to be the best without wittle Ronnikins wishing us good luck!"

"Come on, Ron. Let's leave these two to get their heads into the game." Percy said while pulling on Ron's arm.

"We'll see you two later!" Cried George.

"Yeah, when we've beaten the snot out of Slytherin!" Fred added with a laugh.

Ron managed to wave to Harry before he was fully dragged away from the team by Percy who sat him down with Hermione and Neville.

"Eat." Percy demanded. "We don't have long until eleven and you slept it."

Ron rolled his eyes while digging into the breakfast buffet. "Yes, mum."

Percy shot him a glare and got his revenge later as they were walking to the pitch, shooting Ron with a tripping jinx. Ron would have thrown a dirt clump at Percy and his smug smile, but Hermione grabbed his hand and led him to the team's locker rooms. The two of them wished Harry good luck properly, giving their friend a big hug before they raced off to the stands.

When they got to the stands and joined their year mates, Dean threw him a flag with the Gryffindor colours. A 6th year, Audrey Atwood, painted red and yellow stripes on the group's cheeks, heading off to the next group to do the same. When the Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch, a great roar of cheers and applause erupted from everyone but Slytherin.

Madam Hooch called for the two team captains to shake and took the Quaffle in her hands.

"On my whistle!" Madame Hooch called out, silencing the crowd. "Three...two...one..."

When the sharp tweet pierced the air, the teams mounted their brooms and shot into action. Ron's gaze locked onto Harry as he flew higher than anyone, scanning the pitch.

"Looking for the snitch." Ron said outloud. "With Harry, this game is as good as ours."

There was an 'ooo!' In the crowd as Harry avoided a bludger barrelling at him. George flew past Harry, smacking the bludger towards Slytherin's team, Adrian Pucey if Ron was seeing correctly. However, before the bludger could reach Adrian, it pivoted and came barrelling back at Harry.

"What in the world?" Ron mumbled, watching as Geroge smacked it away only for it to come flying back again at Harry. "Hermione, what's happening? That's not normal for a bludger."

Hermione shook her head, watching as Harry flew towards Fred at the other end of the pitch. "I don't know, bludgers are meant to unseat as many players as possible, right?"

"Right." Ron nodded, eyes glued to Harry as Fred gave the bludger an almighty thwack.

"Then it has to have been tampered with." Hermione theorised, watching as the bludger swung around again and shot towards Harry.

Rain began to fall, thick drops splattering onto the stands as students began to pull out umbrellas or ponchos. Ron huddled under an umbrella Hermione conjured with her wand, the two watching as the bludger was batted and returned to Harry.

"This is ridiculous!" Ron cried as the game continued, Fred and George having bracketed Harry between them for his safety. "That bludger has obviously been tampered with! How can the teachers be allowing this?"

Just as Ron said that, a sharp whistle blew from Madame Hooch as Gryffindor called a time out. Ron watched anxiously as the team huddled down on the pitch, George pointing at Oliver angrily at one point. Arms flailed and stern looks were passed from the Gryffindor team as Madame Hooch made her way over.

"What are they gonna do?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Ron eyed Madame Hooch warily. "I'd be calling for an inspection of the equipment, I think the teachers are actual idiots if they can't see that the bludger's been tampered with. But, if they do that they'll be forfeiting the game to Slytherin."

"Why?" Hermione demanded harshly.

"Because it would be the end of play. That's the rules in Quidditch, once a game is stopped the team with the highest score wins."

"That's the silliest rule I've ever heard of. Are there no exceptions?"

Ron sadly shook his head. "Not even while a game is happening. But it shouldn't matter, I'd rather the game end and Slytherin win than have Harry hospitalised or worse, killed."

The two watched as Harry gestured harshly to the Gryffindor team just as Madame Hooch asked something to Oliver.

Hermione cringed. "How likely is it, do you think, that Harry was able to convince them to keep playing?"

Ron's hopes fell to the wet ground as the teams rose back up in the air and Harry was back to flying on his own. "I'd say more than likely, unfortunately."

Ron and Hermione watched anxiously as Harry went from upside down on his broom to zooming around like a crazed bat. He was on the edges of the stadium, narrowly avoiding the bludger while the rest of the game played out. The rain was falling heavier than before and obscuring the players, thankfully they had Lee Jordan's colourful commentary to keep them up-to-date.

Ron was just able to make out Harry and Malfoy up in the air, hovering near each other-

WHAM!

The crowd gasped as the bludger barreled into Harry's elbow, the limb appearing to be useless by Harry's side now.

"It's broken." Hermione anxiously whispered. "Those bludgers are heavy and traveling at that speed-"

"He'll be OK." Ron swallowed nervously, even as his own heart thudded in his chest, and he took Hermione's free hand in his. "We'll go straight to him once this game is over." 

The end of the game came sooner and worse than Ron could handle as Harry made a mad manoeuvre for Malfoy and grabbed something from the air. Assuming it was the snitch, the crowd roared with cheers which quickly changed to cries of fright.

Harry, who was barely hanging onto his broom with his legs, slipped off his broom and thudded on the ground in a wet, muddy heap.

"Harry!" Ron cried out, pulling Hermione with him as they sprinted for the pitch, barely noticing as the whistle blew for the end of the game.

Ron lost Hermione's hand at one point, the rain making her hand slip out of his, but he was too focused on Harry. He nearly jumped over people to make it to the pitch where mud kicked up behind him like a horse as he ran for Harry. Before he could reach him, a strong force tackled him, strong arms wrapping around him firmly.

"Let me go!" Ron cried as he wiggled and squirmed with all his might. "Let me go! He's hurt, he fell off his broom!"

"Ron! Stop, you need to calm down!" A familiar voice shouted over the rain as the arms tightened around him.

Huffing and puffing, Ron finally noticed the gold and red Quidditch robes donning the arms around him. Following them up, Ron met the deceptively calm face of Fred who's hold was still too strong. It didn't stop Ron from trying to kick at his brother's legs in an attempt to get to Harry.

"Let me go!" Ron cried again, clawing at Fred's arms. "He needs help! He fell!"

"They're already there!" Fred shouted in response.

Finally losing his tunnel vision, Ron looked around at the gathered crowd and noticed all the teachers and students on the pitch. Harry had been rolled over and was groggily sitting up, Hermione and Lockhart next to him. Behind the crowd, George and Angelia were wrestling the rouge bludger back into the ball case.

Ron's breath slowed gradually, a heavy pain resting on his chest and legs from his mad sprint down to the field. He slowly sank back into Fred's embrace as his legs began to feel like jelly.

"They're already there, the teachers are there." Fred soothed, gently lowering them to the ground so they both could rest. "Harry's gonna be OK."

Ron's heart still thumped loudly in his ears as he watched Lockhart do something to Harry's arm, the poor thing looking like a lump of useless flesh. Gently giving Fred a pat to his arm, Ron weasled his way out of his hold and over to Harry's side. When Lockhart asked Hermione and Ron to take Harry to Madame Pomfery, Ron all too quickly agreed.

While they trudged off the pitch, ignoring the clicking of a camera and student mumbles, Ron could feel eyes boring into him. Not needing to look to know his brothers were watching, Ron subtly sped up his friends to the hospital wing.

----------

Madame Pomfery wasn't pleased.

"You should have come straight to me." She raged as she held up Harry's limp, noodle arm. "I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back -"

"You will be able to, won't you?" Harry asked desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful." Madame Pomfery said grimly as she threw Harry a set of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the night."

Hermione waited outside the curtain while Ron helped Harry into his pajamas. The poor bloke didn't have any control of his arm and Ron had to stuff the limb into the top.

"Still think Lockhart's the greatest thing since sliced bread, Hermione?" Ron teased the girl through the curtain.

Ron heard Hermione sigh from the other side. "Everyone makes mistakes, Ron. Even teachers. And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"

Harry grimaced as he looked at his useless arm. "No, but it doesn't do anything else, either."

Harry swung himself up onto the bed, his arm flopping around like a noodle that Ron quickly caught so he wouldn't accidentally break something. Ron drew back the curtain allowing both Hermione and Madame Pomfery through. The elderly nurse had a bottle of Skele-Gro in her hands which Ron tilted his head at.

Madame Pomfery poured Harry a glass of the liquid which spewed steam as it was poured.

"You're in for a rough night." Madame Pomfery grimaced. "Regrowing bones is nasty business."

Harry coughed and spluttered as he drank, Ron passed him a cloth to dry himself with once the whole cup had been emptied.

"Well, what did you expect? It's not pumpkin juice." Madame Pomfery grumbled as she wandered away, mumbling about dangerous sports and inept teachers.

"Well, on the bright side, we won." Ron smiled at Harry. "Your catch had the whole stadium screaming. Malfoy looked ready to kill!"

"I want to know how he fixed that bludger." Hermione grumbled darkly.

"We'll add that to the list of questions we ask him when we drink the polyjuice potion." Harry mumbled as he settled back into the bed. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff..."

Ron scoffed. "If it's got bits of Slytherin in it, how good could it be?"

At that moment there was an almighty BANG from the main entrance. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team trudged in, leaving muddy footprints in their wake.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry!" George exclaimed as he ran up to the bed. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."

From under muddied robes, the team produced cakes, pies, pumpkin juice; gathering around Harry's bed for a little party.

Before anything could happen, Madame Pomfery came bustling over shooing everyone away, including Ron and Hermione. "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

Before anyone knew it, the doors behind them were firmly shut with a loud BANG and they were left alone in the corridor.

"Well!" Shouted Angelina. "Let's not let all this go to waste. To the common room!"

With a cheer, the team raced off, managing to drag Hermione into their bright cheers as they raced back to Gryffindor tower. Before Ron could join them, an arm was firmly draped over his shoulder.

"Nu uh, Ronnikins." Fred tutted, leading him away from the team. "We gotta talk."

Ron could honestly say he's never seen Fred look more serious in his life. So shocked, Ron was, that he barely noticed when George broke away from the team and circled back around to them.

"What in the world would I have to talk with you two about?" Ron demanded as the twins led him to a giant map where George secretly whipped out his wand.

"Depulso." George cast the spell at an object above the giant map which activated a switch and the map parted into a hidden room.

"Woah. How'd you know how to do that?" Ron questioned as he was shoved into the room by his brothers, the door closing behind them.

"Trial and error." George said, taking a seat in a dusty chair.

"And a lot of oranges...and apples, probably anything that could be thrown really." Fred laughed until his gaze turned serious. "But we gotta talk, Ron."

"What was that on the pitch?" George questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Ron scoffed. "What are you two talking about?"

“We're talking about how you were so worried about Harry that you nearly broke my leg trying to get to him." Fred said, gesturing to his legs which had molting bruises littering the skin.

Ron grimaced, slowly walking closer to his brother and whispering. "I did that?"

Ron missed the look Fred and George shared, his attention fully on his brother's legs. It wasn't anything worse than they might get while roughhousing or from Quidditch...but Ron caused that? Seriously?

"You did." Fred quietly said. "What happened, Ron? You've seen people fall off brooms before, so why the dramatic reaction?"

"What? Is it a crime to care when your best friend falls off his broom, now? Why are you two so odd?"

"Oi," George pointed his finger at Ron. "We prefer the term eccentric geniuses."

"Whatever. Why do you two care so much?" Ron questioned with a pout and crossed arms.

"Because you're the one who's being an oddball." Fred said, arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh really? Name one time besides today-"

"Your never ending fever." George pointed out.

"You're distancing yourself from Harry and Hermione." Fred added.

"You've been sleeping in odd places-"

"Neville said you fell asleep on the floor the other day."

"You're staying up so much later than usual."

"You look dead, Ron." The two finished in tandem.

Ron's pout turned into a scowl as he shrunk away from his brother. "Well, so what? None of that stuff is permanent and I don't look that bad-"

"You do." The two spoke in tandem again.

"Whatever! It's not your concern, so just, leave me alone!" Ron shouted. "Why do you care so much?! You never have before!"

"You really think that?" Fred asked, a venom to his tone.

Ron deflated, not sure where that flash of anger came from. "No, of course not. Sorry..."

Ron kept his gaze focused on the floor, not daring to look up as a pair of shoes entered his vision and arms hesitantly wrapped around him.

"What's going on, Ron?" George whispered, voice calm and gentle.

The want, the need, to tell his brothers about Halloween was choking him. They were right there.

They could help!

But Ron bit his tongue, the words held back and strangling his throat. He was barely able to gasp out a poor excuse. "The Chamber and the monster...I can't sleep. I'm too worried it'll attack my friends. Hermione's a muggle-born...what if she's next?"

Ron knew he wasn't fooling his brothers, those two had been lying professionally since they could talk. But, he also knew they could see his exhaustion and the threat against Hermione was a very real one.

"That's not gonna happen, Ron." George said firmly.

Another hand joined George's, Fred, on his shoulder. "George and I'll find that Chamber if it exists."

"No one's found that Chamber in the past."

"Well, lucky we're not just anyone. Right, Forge?"

George snickered. "Right you are, Gred. We'll have it found in no time."

"You just gotta calm your farm for now, Ron. Hey, maybe if you find the kitchen, the elves in the castle might let you do some cooking with them?" Fred shrugged while turning them back towards the hidden door.

Ron rolled his eyes as the door opened to an empty corridor. "I don't need to bake. I'll be fine."

"Sure you will." The two spoke in tandem, shrugging and grinning like the smug pricks they were.

"Come on then, we'll be fashionably late for the party." George said, throwing his arm around Ron's shoulder.

"What party?" Ron asked as they walked up the winding stairs to Gryffindor tower.

"You daft? The party for winning the Quidditch match obviously." Fred playfully rolled his eyes while rattling off the password to the Fat Lady. "I think those friends of yours, Dean and Seamus, are taking party pointers from Lee."

"Watch, each year now the parties are gonna be wild." George cackled as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open to the expected party.

The tower was in high spirits as pumpkin juice was passed around, some spilling on the carpets, and food was handed out generously. The Quidditch team was pulled into the center, everyone shouting and cheering. Plenty of games had been brought out, a large group of first and third years having made an intense game of gobstones. Someone had grabbed the Every Flavour Beans and a game of dare had broken out.

Ron found and joined Hermione who was showing off some basic paper folding enchantments to a mixed year group. In no time little paper birds and dragons were flying in the air while horses and cats ran through party goers legs.

"Didn't expect you to join the fun." Ron said, voice almost lost in the cheers and shouts of the tower.

Hermione shrugged. "It's not a crime to learn spells for fun...usually. Where have you been?"

"Talking with them." Ron nodded over to where Fred and George were pulling out their Filibuster Fireworks. "Nothing important."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "You'll excuse me for not believing you when you say it's 'nothing important' if it involves Fred and George. Those two are always causing trouble."

Ron waved her off. "They just told me about the kitchens and where to find them. Teased me about cooking with the elves."

"You cook?" Hermione asked, genuine curiosity lacing her voice.

"Yeah, and bake. Mum's had me in the kitchen since I could walk."

"I...didn't expect that. How very domestic for you."

"I like doing it and I like good food. Helps if I know how to make good food too." Ron shrugged, while grinning bashfully. "I made Harry his birthday cake this year."

"You made his cake? Ron, that's impressive!"

Ron sheepishly shrugged. "Like I said, I like doing it. Plenty of people cook-"

"Hey, stop that." Hermione grabbed Ron's hand that was reaching to scratch his neck. "Don't put down your own talents. You can cook and bake and that's amazing. That's yours to own."

Ron startled, not used to the sincerity and kindness. Well, no, Hermione was kind, she was a very kind individual. It's just...she was usually a lot more critical than she meant to be.

The genuine sincerity was a little startling.

Ron gave her a smile as she delved into quiet whispers of tomorrow's plan of gathering what ingredients they could for the potion. There was a debate on where to set up a cauldron and who would gather what.

With the party picking up, his brother's far away gazes always lingering and Hermione's quiet chatter, Ron found it easy to ignore his thoughts.

Thoughts that were tinged red, with curling green scales and quiet hisses. Thoughts that sounded suspiciously disarming while hissing at Ron to push and prod at his friends. Thoughts that had him hellbent on keeping tabs on Harry while fooling the rest of the student body.

Fooling them about what? Ron wasn't sure and he didn't want to focus on it as the party died down and he was writing to Tom again. The inky messages from Tom were becoming something consistently concerning...if Ron paid attention to them. For now, they soothed his ever growing worries, they soothed an ache Ron didn't know was growing in his heart and mind.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

Chapter Text

Sunday morning had Ron waking groggily to the sun pouring into the empty dormitory, hand under his pillow and clutching the diary. Ron sat up with a groan, clearing his eyes of crusty sleep and glancing back at his pillow. With a quick glance around the room to see if it was empty, Ron quickly grabbed the diary and flicked it open.

Ron had written so much in the diary, ink was slowly fading from the pages, but multiple lines, some smudged, filled the pages. For weeks, months, Ron had been talking with the diary - to Tom. Ron still wasn't sure who Tom was, not really anyway.

Ron knew both Harry and Hermione's birthdays, their favourite colours and meal along with their favourite subjects. Idle chatter had revealed how proud Hermione was of her parents, the dentists, and how Harry was beyond excited to get to know Sirius and Remus. Ron's pages and writings to Tom revealed nothing.

The most he knew was he was a previous student, no specific graduation date was ever given, and he liked his old Potions teacher. Ron had tried to ask who the teacher was, but Tom had been tight lipped, instead asking about the attacks.

All Tom talked about were the attacks ever since Ron had told him about the one on Ms. Norris, Filch's cat. Ron had revealed his worry for the other muggle-borns, for Hermione, Collin, Alicia, Seamus, Dean, Lavender - for all of Gryffindor. Everyone who wasn't a pure-blood was on the chopping block, which only made an extremely select few safe in the school.

Even Harry was a half-blood, according to one of Sirius's letters, Harry's mum, Lily, had been a muggle-born.

Tom assured him it would all be over soon, that something had to give and action would be taken soon. Ron wasn't sure if Tom meant the Chamber would be found or if the monster would be killed.

Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione had been privy to a hushed conversation between Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall. They hadn't heard much, but the most important part - that Collin Creevy had been petrified last night. Ron felt his stomach drop to his feet as Hermione's hands flew to her mouth to stop any sounds escaping.

They hadn't heard much more, just that his frozen body had been carted off to the hospital wing. Having heard more than enough, Ron and Hermione had made their presence known, acting as if they'd just walked up, knocking on Professor McGonagall's classroom door. They were greeted as if nothing was amiss, but they were now all too aware.

Hermione had spouted that she was just walking with Ron for his chess matches, but that she had homework to attend to. One look from her had Ron guessing she was on her way to do more than just her homework. Professor Flitwick had quickly taken his leave too, waving merrily to Ron as he left and wished him luck.

It was all so distracting and a contributing factor to Ron's current predicament while facing Professor McGonagall in a game of wizards chess. While his mind was in shambles, hers was sharp and calculating, easily decimating his flimsy defences.

"Again?" Ron huffed in disappointment as Professor McGonagall's forces cornered and decimated his king.

As Ron went to wave his hand, an order for the pieces and board to reset themselves, McGonagall gently spoke, halting his wave.

"Prehaps, we can continue next week, Mr Weasley? You seem...distracted."

Distracted was beyond an understatement.

Ron waved her off. "Just tired I guess. Yesterday was so exciting with the Quidditch match and all."

Professor McGonagall nodded, a faint smile twitching on her kind face, shaking her head fondly. "Yes, all thrilling even if I'd prefer Mr Potter avoid the daring stunts. Honestly, catching the snitch while falling off his broom."

"Yeah, but he's an awesome Seeker. Thank you for giving him his broom, he loves it." Ron smiled as he began to help pack up the chess set.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, still smiling with a twinkle in her eyes. "I surely have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just glad to see he's using his mysterious gift well."

Ron nodded, grabbing the board while Professor McGonagall waved her wand and floated the remaining tea and biscuits into her office. She gently took the board from Ron before floating it away too.

As Ron made to wave goodbye, her sharp and calm voice cut him off. "You'll tell a teacher if you are struggling won't you, Mr Weasley? We're here to help with all aspects of your schooling afterall."

Ron was momentarily stunned.

"A-all aspects of school, Professor?" Ron stuttered.

She gently nodded. "Academics, social, future careers, worries. We're here to help as much as we are able."

Ron had never thought of that, he'd never really viewed his teachers as more than that - his teachers. Ron couldn't see himself approaching them for anything more than asking when lunch would be or when the homework was due. To be fair, three of the teachers he's had have been useless.

Snape would rather destroy his students as much as possible while killing was still illegal. Lockhart is a buffoon and Quirrel turned out to be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in disguise. Not great examples to go off, if he's being honest.

Then there's Dumbledore who Ron would rather not think about.

Ron gave a slow nod, hand scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure, Professor. I'll make sure to ask if I need it."

Professor McGonagall's smile dimmed slightly, her eyes losing their sparkle as they turned reminiscent - lost in a memory. "That's all I can ask."

Ron nodded, fully intending to race off until Professor McGonagall stopped him again. "Have you spoken to Remus Lupin? The man who...dropped you off at the beginning of the year."

Ron turned and nodded. "He's living with Sirius Black at the moment."

"Do you know what he's up to?"

Ron shook his head. "No, but I can ask Harry to write a letter? He's been talking to them quite a lot recently."

Professor McGonagall waved his suggestion away. "No, no. No need to bother Mr. Potter with that, I'll send him one myself. Thank you, Mr Weasley. Have a good rest of your day."

Ron nodded, wishing her the same as he tried not to rush out of the classroom. As he was debating where to go - Moaning Myrtle's bathroom or the tower - the decision was made for him. Emerging from the stairs leading to the dungeons Hermione and Harry appeared.

Once he was spotted, Harry sped up and quickly met him with a playful punch to the arm. "Where've you been? Did you know where Hermione's got the cauldron set up?"

Ron playfully slapped Harry's arm back as Hermione finally caught up to them. "Course I do. We discussed it last night while you were growing bones which, by the way, seem to have grown back too well. That bloody hurt."

"Did you know about Dobby?" Hermione whispered urgently in lew of a greeting.

Ron tilted his head at her, looking between Harry and her. "The house elf that tried to get Harry and I expelled this year? Who was the one stopping our letters? Yeah, I've heard of him, why?"

Similarly to when Ron rescued him from his Aunt and Uncle, Harry launched into a retelling of his night in the hospital as they walked to the tower. From Colin being brought in to Dobby's sudden appearance and his apparent 'help'.

"He was the one who tampered with the bludger!?" Ron cried, only to be hushed as they made their way into the common room.

"Aparently he was trying to help me." Harry groaned, subconsciously rubbing his, previously, de-boned arm.

"Help you or kill you?" Ron questioned as Harry shook out his arm.

"Did you two miss the most important part?" Hermione butted in, wild hair appearing even more frazzled. "He said the Chamber has been opened before!"

"That settles it though." Ron said as the trio took a seat by a cushioned window. "Lucious Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there though. I want to know how come no one's noticed it sneaking around the school."

"Maybe it can make itself invisible." Hermione theorised, holding her chin in hand. "Or maybe it can disguise itself - pretend to be a suit of armour or something. I've read about Chameleon Ghouls-"

"But a Ghoul can't petrify people...I think? The one above my room never has anyway." Ron said, suddenly very aware how little he knew about the Ghoul in the attic.

"Well, all we know is that it's moving near invisibly around the school, it lived in a hidden chamber and it can petrify people. That's not a lot to go on." Hermione grumbled.

Ron thought for a moment. "Have you looked through Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?"

Hermione waved him off. "Already tried. Nothing in there matched what we were looking for."

"We have to be missing something then." Harry groaned, leaning back on the cushions and crossing his arms. "I mean, really, how hard can it be to find a monster?"

---------------

The news that Collin had been attacked spread like a wildfire through the halls of Hogwarts, all the students talking about it come Monday morning. The first-years were moving in groups together, bunching and huddling as if they would be next if caught alone. The only one seemingly unaffected was Ron's wispy haired neighbour, Luna Lovegood.

Ron would wave to her in the halls, offering for her to walk with them which she would either accept or decline at her own whim. The other two seemed wary of her, but would politely accept her when she came with them. She even offered them all a charm or two that she had made.

"To help with the wrackspurts." Luna offered them each bracelets with several beads and colourful strings. "Hermione, I added an extra charm for you. You've got quite a full head, I'm hoping this can lighten your load."

Hermione was openly offended while both Ron and Harry had to cover their snorts as Luna waved goodbye to them.

--------------------

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names for those who would be staying for the holidays. Ron found his name already on her sheet next to his brother's. Hermione and Harry quickly added their own names after hearing that Malfoy would be staying - very odd for him.

The holidays would be the perfect time to use the polyjuice potion and get the confession they needed. Unfortunately, the potion was only half finished. They still needed the Bicorn Horn and the Boomslang skin, both of which only lived in Snape's private stores.

And, unfortunately, Percy was no help.

"Sorry, I can't help with this part." Percy cringed while filling out his parchment with Arethmacy work. "Snape's already on my case about the book we borrowed. He'll suspect me even more if I suddenly ask for supplies when we've already done our potion assessment."

"Percy! You were our secret weapon!" Ron groaned, leaning back into Harry's shoulder. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Percy's eyes flicked over to the fireplace where Fred, George and Lee Jordan were making a killing selling 'protection charms' for the students. Ron groaned as he fully leant on Harry who yelped and tried to, unsuccessful, shove him off.

"The twins are gonna wanna bargain and I've got nothing they want." Ron groaned.

Hermione looked at him quizzically. "Wouldn't they be OK just knowing you need help? That seems rather rude if you have to trade something."

"Spoken like someone who has no siblings." Ron grumbled as he finally sat up, letting Harry shove him lightly. "Everything's a trade with siblings. Even Percy trades things when we need help-"

"I'm not helping you for free." Percy grumbled with a pout.

"And what they could want," Ron pointed over to Fred and George. "Could range from chores for a week to taking the fall for one of their experiments gone wrong. Major red flag right there."

"Well, we're out of options, Ron. You'll have to ask them." Hermione said, crossing her arms in defiance.

With a roll of his eyes, Ron let Harry up and made his way over to Fred and George who were haggling with Lee Jordan.

"You're sure this'll work?" A boy with a thick Scottish accent asked the twins, holding up a red sachet tied with gold ribbon.

"Absolutely!" Fred grinned.

"Garenteed to protect you from something." George continued.

"And, if all else fails, you can throw it at someone if need be." Lee Jordan grinned as he pocketed more sickles from a fourth-year girl.

Just as the boy hesitantly handed over his sickles and took the sachet, Ron reached his brothers and tugged on their robes. The twins waved him off, already taking more sickles from another student for another sachet.

Rolling his eyes again, Ron tugged harder on their robes. "Oi, you two, come off it. I need your...I need your help-"

Ron could almost see their ears perk up in interest, heads automatically swiveling and their eyes seizing him up. No matter how much he wanted to retreat from their all seeing stare, he stood firm and faced them down. The twins gave a wicked grin.

"You mind the shop, Lee." George started, wrapping his arm around Ron's shoulder.

Fred came up to his other side and continued. "An urgent matter just came up."

The twins dragged him away from their little black market spot and towards a corner close to the stairs. Before they could ask, Ron took charge and dragged them towards Harry, Hermione and Percy.

"You know, secret meetings tend to be more...secluded than this?" Fred said, eyebrow raised in judgement.

"Well, it's done us well so far. You two didn't even notice until I brought you over." Ron grumbled.

Both twins grew a face of shock before eyeing each other.

"Did I just hear that right, Fred?" George asked while cleaning his ears.

Fred smirked. "I believe it was, George."

"Ronnikins, who came to us for our help-"

"Giving us attitude! The audacity!" Fred dramatically threw his hand to his forehead.

"The pain!" George egged Fred on.

"Maybe we shouldn't help-"

"No!" Ron harshly whispered. "Will you two get a grip! We need your help to get potion ingredients."

That had both Fred and George stopping and properly eyeing their group, Percy crossing his arms and glaring at them. The twins turned back to Ron in perfect sync. "What's the job?"

Ron nodded over to Hermione who quickly explained what ingredients they needed and why. Ron got to watch as the twins' faces grew shocked that Percy had been helping with their schemes. When Hermione had finished, they eyed each other, the group then back to each other.

"So?" Ron asked with his arms crossed.

Fred shrugged. "I mean, sure, we can help."

"But there's gonna be a cost, naturally." George finished.

"Naturally." Ron scoffed. "So, what do you two want?"

The twins eyed each other before George started. "Well, stealing from a teacher is a big task-"

"Not to mention it's Snape we'll be stealing from." Fred interrupted as George nodded as well.

"Right you are, Fred. This job's gonna cost big time."

The twins held up one finger each before speaking in tandem. "We want one favour for each of us from you and Percy."

Now it was Percy who scoffed. "You're kidding yourselves. That means you would get four favours for one job."

"We can be individuals, Percy." George smirked. "I know we're amazing as a dynamic duo, but we do separate."

"When?" Ron asked.

"Whenever it suits us." Fred grinned, Cheshire and cunning.

"Besides, it evens out," George continued. "Since we'll also be helping Harry and Hermione too. So we're helping four people. Four people, a total of four favours-"

"Just split between you two." Fred interrupted, pointing at Ron and Percy.

"So, do we have a deal?" The twins asked in tandem, holding out their hands for a handshake.

Ron turned to Percy who was also eyeing him. They didn't have much choice if they wanted the Boomslang skin and the Bicorn Horn, plus the twins knew about their plan now. If they wanted to keep their secrets, they would have to be involved.

With a nod, Ron turned back to the twins as Percy did. The four brothers exchanged handshakes, locking their fate.

Fred grinned and clapped his hands. "Pleasure doing business with you. Now, when do you need the goods?"

Hermione jumped to action. "As soon as possible-"

"Before the holidays." Ron interrupted. "The sooner the better, but early December at the latest."

Fred and George grinned. "Perfect. Consider it done."

And they were off, back to their little shop that they scrambled to pack up when someone announced McGonagall was on her way.

"Why'd you interrupt me?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit put off.

Ron turned to her, apologetic. "Sorry. They would've asked for a time frame anyway and the sooner they want something, the more destructive they get. I once asked for a toy they'd hidden from me immediately and they threw me on the roof where I was. Their excuse was 'you said you wanted it now'."

Hermione's face was still screwed in annoyance. "Ok, just...warn me next time."

Ron nodded, wincing at his blunder.

------------

Later that week, Ron found himself cornered by Fred and George who were grinning like the cats that caught the canary. They had the ingredients and demanded Ron show them where all the magic was happening. With a fond huff, Ron led his brothers to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom where Harry and Hermione were currently waiting.

"Where's Percy?" Ron asked as he closed the door tightly.

Harry shrugged from where he sat leant back against the rotting wooden stall. "Dunno. Said something about duties and stuff."

"He's performing his Prefect duties and helping Snape do an inventory count. Apparently he's down a few ingredients, wonder why?" Hermione smiled conspiratorially as she looked at Fred and George behind him.

The twins grinned like Cheshire cats as George pulled the Bicorn Horn and Boomslang Skin from under his robes. Hermione quickly snatched them up, added them to the bubbling pot and began to stir feverishly.

"So," Fred asked as he leant against the wood and watched their potion bubble and froth. "Who decided on the bathroom?"

"Hermione." Ron and Harry answered together, deadpanned.

"It works doesn't it? No one's found the potion, yet. And no one comes in here anyway."

Fred nodded, George taking a seat on the tiles next to Ron. "You're quite the devious one, Hermione. How's about you ditch these two and join George and I? You'd be a great asset."

Hermione scoffed, slowing her stirring as the potion began to twist and swirl. "No thanks. I'm only just coping with those two. How would I manage you two?"

Ron felt justified in the slap he gave to George as him and Fred burst into uproarious laughter.

----------------

A week later found Ron, Harry and Hermione walking through the Entrance Hall when they were slowed by a knot of students. They were all gathered around the notice board and reading a piece of parchment that had been pinned up. Ron spotted Seamus and Dean waving them over and quickly helped his two friends weave through the growing crowd to them.

"What's going on?" Ron asked as he let go of Harry and Hermione's hands.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" Seamus exclaimed. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons, they might come in handy one of these days..."

"You think the monster can duel? Or...that we could fight it?" Ron asked, reading over the parchment with interest.

Being a bit taller than other kids had its advantages when needing to see over a sea of head. Having read and noted the important information, Ron took Harry and Hermione's hands again and led them out of the growing crowd.

"It could be useful." Ron told them as they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. "I think we should go."

Harry and Hermione readily agreed, so at eight o'clock, after dinner, they left the tower together and made their way back to the Great Hall. The long tables had disappeared and a long, golden stage replaced them. Most of the school seemed to have come, all year groups and all ages in attendance.

Ron even managed to spot his brothers and Luna through the crowd, although Luna appeared to be looking for something.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" Hermione asked as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young. Maybe it'll be him?"

"As long as it's not-" Harry's sentence was cut off by both him and Ron groaning at the one person they didn't want appearing on stage.

Gilderoy Lockhart. The pompous prick was wearing the most garish outfit Ron had ever seen. Robes a deep plum and swaying around him like he was a rich aristocrat.

Ron felt like his world plummeted when Snape followed behind Lockhart, black robes billowing like a bat's wings in flight.

"End me now." Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione as Lockhart called the Hall to silence.

"Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me?" A round of nods waved through the crowd at Lockhart's question. "Can you all hear me?"

Another round of nods and the prick happily clapped. "Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves, as I myself have done on multiple occasions - for full details, see my published works."

"We're trying to learn to duel and he's promoting his books?" Harry whispered to him and the two shared a round of giggles, broken when Hermione shushed them.

"Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape!" Lockhart gestured to a scowling Snape who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. "He tells me he knows a tiny, little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

Ron raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Harry who was mirroring his expression. Leaning towards his best friend, Ron whispered, "Wouldn't it be good if they just finished each other off?"

Ron watched as Snape's upper lip curled into that too familiar scowl and growler the more that Lockhart talked. For once, only once, Ron felt the same as Snape, wishing for Lockhart to shut up.

The two teachers separated and walked down the stage, giving their own versions of proper bows. Snape's looked more like an awkward jerk of his head while Lockhart added too many twirls while attempting to show off. When they were ready, they raised their wands in front of them like swords.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the acceptable combative position." Lockhart informed the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

Ron glanced at Snape's twisted scowl and highly doubted Lockhart.

"I wouldn't bet on that." Harry whispered to him, also eyeing Snape.

"One - Two - Three -"

Both teachers swung their wands up and over their shoulders.

Snape cried, "Expelliarmus!" And a brilliant flash of scarlet light shot towards Lockhart, blasting him back off his feet and sending his smashing into a wall, sprawling on the floor. His wand had gone flying somewhere in the crowd.

Malfoy, the Slytherin's and a few of the other houses cheered. Even Ron and Harry watched, impressed with the spell Snape had cast. None of them liked Snape, but it appeared a good portion of the school liked Lockhart even less. A most impressive feat since everyone, except the Slytherin's, hated Snape.

"Do you think he's alright!" Hermione fretted, gaze lingering on Lockhart.

"Who cares?" Ron harmonise with Harry.

Lockhart was getting, unsteadily, to his feet; robes ruffled and hair looking like he'd splattered to a wall. Ron wished Colin was here to capture the moment with his camera.

"Well, there you have it!" Lockhart cried, tottering back to the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Snape shot a glare at Lockhart that could kill, and Lockhart, amazingly, noticed because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."

Both teachers moved through the crowd and matched up partners as they went. Lockhart paired Neville with Justin Flinn-Fletchley, but Snape reached their trio first. Ron had already latched onto Harry's robe, and Harry had done the same to him, but Snape clearly had other plans.

"Time to split up the dream team." Snape sneered at them. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter-"

Ron watched as Harry automatically moved towards Hermione, but Snape nearly hissed at him. "I don't think so. Mr Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger, you can partner Miss Bulstrode."

Ron cringed as he watched with Seamus as the two Slytherin's came over, Malfoy and a heavy set girl with an almost square jaw. Hermione gave the girl, Blustrode, a weak smile which was not returned.

"I'd hate to be them." Seamus whispered to him in his thick, Irish accent.

Ron nodded. "You and me both. Say, mate, how're you doing with the whole fire thing?"

Seamus cringed and Ron feared for his life and his robes.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart cried once all the pairs had been sorted. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents. One...two...three!"

Ron swung his wand over his shoulder as Seamus did and cried, "Expelliarmus!" At the same time Seamus did.

The same jet of red light shot from Ron's wand and shot straight for Seamus' wand. Unfortunately, Seamus had done something odd with his cast or his movement because Ron was faced with a jet of fire flashing towards him. Ron yelped and dropped to the floor, hands covering his head as a hot flash flew over his head.

When the heat went away, Ron shot a look over to Seamus who was pale and staring at him with panic.

"Ron!" Seamus jumped and flailed his arms in his general direction. "The - your robes! Ron, your robes! Fire!"

Ron whipped his head around to his back and spotted a flash of burning orange and he yelled, quickly unclasping his robes from his neck. Scrambling out from under the burning garment, Ron ran to the other end of the stage at the same time as a voice cried, "Aquamenti!"

A jet of water shot at Ron's burning robes and put them out. Ron looked up and nodded thanks to his saviour, Percy, who had abandoned his own duel against his year mate.

"You alright, Ron?" Percy asked as he helped pull him to his feet."

Ron nodded as Seamus ran over. "I'm so sorry, mate! I really thought I had the hang of that..."

Ron waved him off as he looked around at the aftermath of the other duels. The only ones still going were Hermione and Millicent, the bigger girl had Hermione in a headlock. Hermione was whimpering and Ron spotted Harry already running over.

Ron waved off Percy's arm and quickly joined Harry in prying Millicent off Hermione, the bushy haired girl gulping air when she was released. Lockhart was fluttering through the crowd, observing the aftermath of the duels as well.

"Sorry, Ron. I think they're totalled." Percy said as he joined their trio and held his burnt robes. Millicent having glared and lumbered back to the Slytherin's.

Ron cringed at the singed and soggy lump that was once his robes. "How mad d'you think Mum'll be?"

Percy grimaced. "Maybe we could shrink one of my robes? Or the twins?"

"Thought so." Ron nodded.

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells." Lockhart tutted from the middle of the dispelling chaos. "Let's have a volunteer pair. Longbottom and Flinn-Fletchley, how about you?"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart." Snape nearly spat the word Professor out as he glided over. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Flinn-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville went pink with embarrassment and Ron's hate of Snape grew stronger. "How about Malfoy and Potter?"

Oh, perfect. The ounce of respect Snape had earned from sending Lockhart into the wall? Gone, absolutely obliterated.

"Excellent idea!" Lockhart cried at the insane suggestion, ushering Harry and Malfoy to the centre of the stage.

"We'll be ready if you need it." Ron whispered to Harry while gesturing to his pocket where his wand sat.

Harry gave him a grateful smile and made his way to the stage where Malfoy was already waiting. Harry and Malfoy each got whispered words from the Professors, Ron watching Malfoy like a dragon stalks prey. Charlie said they stalk, apparently - instincts or something.

When the teachers left the stage and Lockhart cried the beginning of the match, Ron could only watch as Malfoy raised his wand and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of Malfoy's wand exploded in bright lights and a large, black snake shot out of it, landing heavily on the floor between them. The whole crowd gasped, some screamed, and moved back. Percy tugged on his and Hermione's wrists to pull them back from the stage.

"Don't move, Potter." Snape called lazily from the crowd and Ron readied his own wand to throw up that protection charm Fred and George had used on him at the Quidditch practice. "I'll get rid of it-"

"Allow me!" Lockhart shouted and made his way to the stage through the crowd. He brandished his wand and there was a loud bang as a stream of light shot towards the snake. Instead of vanishing, the snake shot a few feet into the air and smacked back down onto the stage.

Ron had shaken off Percy's hold on him and was running to the stage, shoving past people and moving Justin Flinn-Fletchley out of the way. Unfortunately, Ron misjudged where the snake would land, only focused on getting to Harry, and nearly screamed when the snake landed in front of him. Ron heard Percy shout his name, distantly hearing Fred and George too, as the enraged snake reared up and prepared to strike.

As Ron prepared for the worst, arms crossing over his  face, a loud hissing garble echoed through the Great Hall except...it wasn't garbled to Ron. Looking up through his crossed arms, Ron found Harry looking at the snake with a glare that could kill, having shouted at the snake to, "Leave him be!"

The snake slumped like one of those muggle garden hoses Dad kept in his shed, docile and no longer hissing. Ron felt a shock of cold go through his system as he looked up at the smiling face of Harry before him.

Ron knew Harry had hissed at the snake, he could hear him hissing at it before the snake had backed down. What shocked Ron was that he could understand what Harry had said. There was only one wizard in history who could understand snakes and Ron hated what that meant for him.

Snape stepped forward and made the snake disappear in a small puff of black smoke. Ron spotted Snape, no, everyone, staring at Harry as if he'd just murdered a unicorn. There was muttering starting to bounce off the stone walls, steadily growing louder and louder.

There was a firm tug on his robes and Ron was stumbling over his feet, pulled along by a rushing Percy.

"Come on - quickly." Percy rushed, pulling Hermione along with them.

Ron looked behind him and found Fred and George following quickly behind them, Harry wedged safely between them. People parted for them like they would be cursed if they touched any of them. It made their escape from the Great Hall easier, allowing them to all but run up the moving staircase and rush further up to the Gryffindor tower.

They didn't stop moving until they were all safely through the portrait hole and sequestered in the common room. Harry was forcibly sat into an armchair by Fred and George as Ron was shoved into the lounge in front of the fireplace. An eerie silence falling over their group, even rendering Fred and George silent for once.

Ron swallowed past the lump in his throat and turned to Harry. "You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" Harry asked.

"A Parselmouth. It means you can talk to snakes." Percy explained, sitting heavily between Ron and Hermione on the lounge.

"I know." Harry shrugged as if that was normal. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Duddly at the zoo once - long story - but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was before I knew I was a wizard..."

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron asked breathlessly.

"So?" Harry pouted, leaning back in the armchair. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"No, Harry, they can't." Fred said grimly.

"It's a very uncommon gift, Harry. This is...kinda bad." George finished with a grimace.

"What's bad?" Harry sat up, Ron could see his temper flaring and arms crossed. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told the snake not to attack Ron-"

"Oh! That's what you said?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"What d'you mean? You were there...you heard me."

"We heard you speaking Parseltongue, snake language. You could have been saying anything. It...well, it sort of sounded like you were egging the snake on, but I'm sure you weren't!"

Ron felt Percy wrap his arm around his shoulder as Harry gaped at them. "I spoke a different language? But - I didn't realise - how can I speak a different language without knowing I can speak it?"

Ron shared a look with his brothers and Hermione. A cold sweat was breaking out on the back of Ron's neck the more they spoke about it.

"D'you wanna tell me what's so bad about stopping a dirty great snake from biting Ron's head off?" Percy's arm squeezed him gently. "What does it matter how I did it as long as Ron doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent." Hermione explained to Harry in a hushed voice.

Ron's breath stuttered when the truth was spoken aloud, heart hammering in his ribs at the thought. Harry was in a similar state, his jaw having fallen open.

"Exactly." Fred nodded.

"Now, the whole school's gonna think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something." George sighed.

Harry jumped to his feet. "But, I'm not!"

"You'll find that hard to prove." Hermione said grimly. "He lived about a thousand years ago. For all we know, you could be."

Ron watched as Harry paled and couldn't help but agree with his panic. Ron was in a totally different boat, he knew he wasn't related to Salazar Slytherin, the Weasley family had a long history unrelated to the man. But, that begged the biggest question screaming in Ron's brain.

How had he understood what Harry was saying to the snake?

Ron had heard it clear as day, like they were talking now. He'd heard the underlying hiss to the words, but he had understood what Harry was telling the snake.

What in the name of Merlin was wrong with him?

------------

Ron was sent to bed with Harry, Percy promising to check on them both in the morning while Hermione, Fred and George waved them off. However, sleep would not come and Ron wasn't game to go downstairs this late at night. He didn't want to see the looks people would shoot him or hear the ill spoken words about Harry.

No doubt this would be top news come morning.

With a quiet sigh, Ron sat up and pulled the diary from under his pillow, opening the pages and flipping to a new one. His quill and inkwell were grabbed from under his bed and he began to write to Tom about the encounter. He wrote about the fear, the snake, Harry's talking and Ron's understanding.

Yet, for once, the writing was slow to appear - almost hesitant before new ink appeared on the pages Ron had written on.

I think you're overthinking this all. Salazar Slytherin was...someone for sure, but understanding Parseltongue is not the end of the world. The applications alone are fascinating. Have you always been able to understand Parseltongue?

Ron wrote back an immediate NO, capitalised so hopefully Tom would understand the severity of this development. However, for once, he wrote as if this was a great development, that Ron was different and evolving. For once, ever since his first time writing to Tom, Ron felt panic.

Slamming the diary shut, Ron hid it under his pillow again and tucked his quill and inkwell back under his bed. Ron heard Harry pummelling his pillow in the bed over and cringed.

-------------

As if the weather was responding to the turmoil in Ron's being, the light snowfall from the past days had picked up into a full blizzard. The whipping winds hurled snow past the windows in a flurry and made it impossible to see past your nose outside. Because of the blizzard, their morning Herbology class had been cancelled and Ron was left wondering what to do.

"Come on, Ron." Hermione poked him as the trio sat at the fireplace. "Verse me in wizard chess, I think I'm improving, honestly!" 

Not seeing any reason to deny her, Ron ran back upstairs and grabbed his board and men. The game was set up on the rugged floor and Ron gave Hermione the white pieces. Percy appeared as they were setting up, making good on his promise to check on them. 

He questioned why they were in front of the fire and left them alone when they explained the cancelled class. Ron and Hermione's game began and went on, Ron calling out orders half-heartedly and his chessmen obeying.Just as Ron's bishop wrestled Hermione's knight off his horse and dragged him off the board, Harry appeared beside them.

"Morning." Harry mumbled to them, head in his hands as he sat cross legged next to Ron.

Ron nodded to him, eyes focused on the board while Hermione called out her move to the Rook. Harry sighed from beside him and knocked his shoulder to his. "Come on, Ron. You know me. You know I wouldn't keep...you know what, a secret on purpose."

Ron nodded absent-mindedly to Harry, eyes never leaving the board as he called his Queen to move, forcing Hermione into a retreat. There was a poke to his side and Ron waved at Harry again.

"Don't worry, Mate." Ron said distractedly. "Just...thinking s'all."

There was a groan from beside him and Harry rushed to his feet and stormed off, exiting the common room in a huff. Ron finally pulled his head away from the board and stared at where Harry had stormed off.

"What's up with him?" Ron asked Hermione as his Queen took her Rook.

Hermione huffed at him as she was forced into check. "Did you not hear him? Oh, honestly, Ron. Tell me a word that Harry just said."

"He said morning?" Ron shrugged as the chessmen reset.

"You're impossible. He was trying to talk to you about last night."

"What about last night? We sorted it out, didn't we? He knew he was a Parselmouth, but didn't realise what it meant...what's more to understand?"

Hermione shook her head. "You surprise me, you know that? He thinks you hate him because he saved you-"

"What! No, that's stupid!" Ron quieted his shout when Hermione shushed him, instead harshly whispering, "Why would I hate him for that?"

"Because you just ignored him and you weren't very talkative last night after the whole...snake incident."

"Well, yeah, I was almost bit by a snake." That was only one tenth of the issue that had been on Ron's mind. Instead he was trying to figure out how in the world he could understand Parseltongue as well. "That would make anyone a bit quiet, I'd think."

"Just go find him." Hermione shooed him off. "You know what he's like. I'll pack up your chess set."

"Yeah, thanks Mione. Wouldn't want him challenging Malfoy to another duel...well-"

"Just go." Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron smiled at her and shot off towards the portrait hole, shouting that the chess set lived in his trunk.

Ron rushed out of the portrait hole and paused for a moment, stumped on where he could find Harry.Repeating the password to the Fat Lady; Ron sheepishly re-entered the common room to an exasperated Hermione when she noticed him.

"I have no idea where he could have gone." Ron rubbed his neck. "So, I'm gonna grab his books for Transfiguration and meet him outside the classroom."

"Sounds like a plan." Hermione nodded, handing the chess set back to Ron.

"Are you gonna come along?"

"No way. You caused this, you fix this. I'll see you at the classroom and if you're both talking about Quidditch like it's your lifeblood, I'll know you're both OK."

Ron chuckled and waved Hermione off, racing up the stairs and tucking his chess set back in his trunk. Grabbing both his and Harry's books for Transfiguration, and grunting at the weight in his arms, Ron made his way back to the portrait. The moving staircase was annoying as ever, more so now that Ron had a ton of books to carry in his arms.

When the staircase deposited him on a floor above the Transfiguration rooms, Ron groaned and waited for the stairs to come back. They missed his landing twice before Ron decided they were too much.

"Oh forget this. I'll go the long way." Ron grumbled and adjusted the books in his arms.

Ron shivered at the cold that seeped into the hallways, the blizzard outside still raging. He was about to enter a darkened corridor; the torches having been extinguished by a harsh wind, when a mop of brown hair popped up from a staircase.

"Harry!" Ron cried out and the mop of hair perked up before scowling.

"What d'you want, Ron. I thought you weren't speaking to me?" Harry grumbled.

"I wanted to apologise. I didn't mean to ignore you in the common room earlier, I was focused on the match - barely even realised you were there, sorry, mate. And I was a bit out of it last night. Being nearly bitten by a snake will do that." Ron quickly explained. "I'm sorry, Harry. And thank you for saving me from the snake."

Ron gave Harry a sheepish smile, hoping Harry would understand the genuine sincerity in his long winded apology.

"You mean that? You don't...hate me?"

"Hate you!? Why would I hate you?" Ron asked, genuinely confused.

Harry scowled at the ground, kicking at dust. "Was walking around and everyone's talking about it. Saying how I was goading the snake into biting you. Something about being jealous of your family being magical and my aunt and uncle being...them."

"Well, that's stupid." Ron declared, hoisting the books up again. "What do those tossers know about us? Ignore them Harry, they don't know anything. As if I could ever hate you, you're my best friend. Hate you, what a load of rubbish."

Harry laughed, smiling at Ron and pushing his glasses up his nose. "Yeah, they are tossers. Thanks, mate."

Ron grinned. "Anytime. Now, you mind taking these books from me? They're yours by the way and bloody heavy."

"Oh! Yeah, sure." Harry quickly grabbed the books from Ron's arms and he shook out the soreness. "Thanks for grabbing them...Ron? What's wrong?"

Ron couldn't look away from it - them now that he'd noticed them, it was like his stomach had dissolved. Ron couldn't respond, only pointing down the corridor towards two still figures. Harry gasped when he noticed, dropping his books in shock.

Down the darkened corridor, Ron had spotted the still forms of Justin Flinn-Fletchley crumpled on the floor and Nearly Headless Nick floating in place. Nearly Headless Nick was no longer transparent, instead he was black and smoky, floating listlessly and face frozen in shock. Ron couldn't see Justin's face from here, his back was towards them, but his yellow robes and hair gave him away.

"Harry-"

"Go get help." Harry said quickly, shoving Ron's arms in the direction of the stairs. "Professor McGonagall's classroom is downstairs, go get help!"

Ron didn't question him, dropping his things and sprinting for the stairs, flying down them in his haste. He slammed open the classroom's heavy door, several students jumped at his entrance. Professor McGonagall glared from the front of the room.

"Mr. Weasley-" Professor McGonagall began.

Ron took several harsh breaths, heart beating rapidly in his heart when an almighty bellow echoed from above them. "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATAAACK!"

McGonagall was racing for the door in a flash, green robes billowing behind her and managing to avoid Ron in the doorway. The other students didn't bother to dodge Ron, instead they barrelled him over and sent him tumbling to the floor. Ron hissed as his hands scraped along the floor, already feeling the sting of skin ripped away.

"Come on, Ron!" A hand was tugging him up from the floor. "Come on! Hurry!"

With stumbling feet, Ron followed along, finally spotting Hermione's bushy head of hair tugging him up from the floor.

"What happened?" She asked as they ran up the stairs where students were flocking like birds.

"Another attack. It's Justin Flinn-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick." Ron said as they shoved through the growing crowd. "Harry told me to come get help."

Together, they shoved their way through the crowd of students and teachers, Ron's head was swiveling and looking for Harry when a loud bang went off. Everyone screamed before seeing it was a spark from Professor McGonagall's wand. She yelled for silence, managing to reign in the student body, and sent everyone back to their classes.

As the hallway cleared, Ron and Hermione remained until they found Harry nearly flat against a wall. They rushed over, Ron tugging him to his feet and hissing at the sting in his hands.

"Alright, Harry? What happened? I was gone for less than a minute!" Ron cried.

Harry nodded over to the two frozen bodies. "Peeves happened."

Looking behind them, Ron spotted the grinning poltergeist dancing in the air and singing a song as the last few students trickled away:

"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done?

You're killing off students, you think it's good fun-"

"That's enough Peeves!" Professor McGonagall barked and the poltergeist, still grinning, made himself scarce.

Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra, she worked in the Astrology tower, used the floating charm to levitate Justin up the stairs and towards the hospital wing. However, Professor McGonagall seemed stumped on what to do about Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, she conjured a fan with her wand and set it on the ground.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, please take Nearly Headless Nick to the hospital wing." Professor McGonagall asked, pointing to the fan.

"But, Professor-!"

"Mr Weasley, now is not the time to argue with me-"

"But-"

"Off with you! Go!" Professor McGonagall pointed to the stairs and Hermione sullenly tugged Ron over to the fan.

"Come on, Ron." Hermione said as she grabbed the fan. "We can get your hands healed by Madam Pomfery while we're there."

Even while being tugged along by Hermione, Ron shouted behind him where Professor McGonagall was leading Harry away. "He didn't do anything, Professor! I was with him! We were just talking!"

That had Professor McGonagall pausing in her stride, her head turning back to Ron. "You were with Mr Potter?"

Ron nodded and ran over when Professor McGonagall waved him over. She led them up more winding staircases, Ron gingerly locking fingers with Harry while his hands stung. When he saw a familiar stone gargoyle, Ron hesitated.

"Professor, we didn't do anything!" Ron cried as they approached the hidden staircase.

Harry nodded beside him. "I swear, we were just-"

"I'm sorry, you two. But, this is out of my hands." Professor McGonagall spoke curtly before turning to the gargoyle. "Sherbet Lemon!"

Ron gulped as the familiar spiralling staircase was revealed, leading up and up towards Professor Dumbledore's office. At the very top they were met by an oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon. Ron drew in a breath, took Harry's hand in his and waited for Professor McGonagall to knock.