All right, just some (quick?) notes before we all start.

I've had the pleasure of having a reviewer subtly insult Ron in the reviews for TBA. As some of the recurring readers to this fanfic, you may be aware that I reply to who I can, so of course I did the same with that reviewer. Unfortunately, instead of the debate I was expecting, the attacks became personal on both sides and the main issue—what the hell is your problem with Ron?—was not addressed. And their reasons for Ron not being worthy of Hermione? He left them in DH. Wow. Just wow. Way to characterize a person by just their mistakes.

What I'm saying is this: you don't like Ron? Fine. But why the hell would you read a fanfic about someone you don't like? Oh, and they called me Chuchi Otaku Ronald, as if I'm supposed to find that insulting. On the contrary, I find that to be a huge compliment. I can only wish to be as half as brave, loyal and direct as Ron is.

Another is that I get that this fanfic isn't for everyone, even for Ron lovers. Even if I think the story, world rules and lore is as well thought out as possible, there will always be some who will find holes to poke and expand. Again, that's fine. I might learn something from it. But here's the thing: HP canon (especially in terms of the magic) is not so thoroughly expanded upon that I can't take artistic liberty on some aspects. I try to stick to canon most of the time, but as I have mentioned in the Prologue arc, Ron's new world is not exactly like the one he left behind. Please keep this fact in mind, as well as me being creative on some things. If you don't like my work for it, then I wish you all the best as you go for the next fanfic.

TL;DR: If you're not a Ron fan, that's fine. But don't shit on him in the reviews on a fanfic about him. That's just dumb. And if you don't like me taking artistic liberties on canon, then OK, move on.

On more positive news, I'm happy to announce that TBA officially has a beta reader! Yay! Many thanks to A. C. nelli for all the help with this chapter! You're awesome, my friend!

Thanks also to StarsandSunkissed for their comment on the one vs. multiple fic dilemma. Still haven't decided yet but I'll definitely make up my mind soon!

Chapter 8:

Trouble with a Troll

Just my fucking luck.

Adrenaline coursed through Ron's veins; his whole body taut as a string as he eyed the troll standing in front of him. He cursed himself again for being so bloody whiny and emotional that he forgot that today had also been the day Quirrell let the troll into Hogwarts!

It was a small consolation that it wasn't Hermione who ran into the monster this time. The problem now was that Ron—small, scrawny, and armed with an unstable wand Ron—wasn't entirely sure he'd fare any better than her.

Pull yourself together, Weasley! You're not bloody eleven, you're an eighteen-year-old wizard from the war. FOCUS!

When the troll lunged for him with a roar, club aloft, that veteran in Ron kicked into action, flinging himself to a cubicle with a grunt just before the club could squash him flat.

Bracing a hand on the door halfway into the stall, Ron pulled out his wand, his mind working a mile a minute.

Trolls. What do I know about Trolls? Big, dumb, mean, eats people, skin too thick for low-levelled spells too work… Ron's eyes flashed. Hates light!

When the troll's head turned to him, Ron pointed his wand at the creature. "LUMOS SOLEM!"

But instead of a bright beam of sunlight, what came out was a quick burst of light. Ron glowered at his wand. Now is NOT the time for you to act up, you stupid piece of trash!

But the light was enough to disorient the troll, who cried out in pain and shook its head furiously. Ron took the chance to slip out of the cubicle and bolt for the door, but the monster's club went soaring, shattering the wooden stalls. It was only because Ron felt the wind change that he managed to duck behind the sink, shielding himself from the bombardment of splinters and nails.

When Ron heard the a loud stomp, rightly predicting that the troll had braced itself to head for Ron's direction, the boy readied his wand again.

Trolls don't have good eyesight, having to live in the dark to avoid the sun, but make up for it with sensitive hearing. He saw the glint at his right. Too many ways this could go wrong, but it's not like I have any other choice!

"BOMBARDA!" Ron aimed the spell at the mirrors, blasting them apart into shards large and small, the resulting boom sounding like a combination of a bang and crunching glass. The troll was momentarily winded by both the shock of the loud sound and the glass (its skin may be thick, but the shards can still cut its eyes and nostrils). Ron too felt some of the glass cut his face but he raised an arm to keep most of it covered and channeled all of his magic into his next spell. "CONFRINGO!"

Energy coursed through Ron's fingers to the point of burning, causing a huge blast of fire as big as the troll's upper torso that went straight for the its face. The troll's skin may be impervious to most charms and curses, but even it will feel some pain when faced with a full-powered blasting curse. It howled again, taking a step back and waving its free hand frantically when its crude animal hide vest caught fire. Ron took the chance to run for the loo exit, but was slowed by his stumbling as some of the shards may have cut his face, close to his right eye.

Shite! Shite! It burns! Ron kept his bad eye closed in case some glass did get into it, pressing a hand to the bleeding part of his face. He pushed out of the loo and took off to some random direction as steadily as he could.

This hall's too narrow to properly fight a troll. And on my own too. Either I find someplace wide enough and fight it myself or—better yet— run into the Professors.

"RON!"

That familiar voice made Ron's heart drop to his feet. Oh bollocks!

Forcing his good eye forward, the time traveller nearly lurched in horror when he saw, "Harry?! Neville?!" He choked. "H—Hermione?!"
Neville's face turned ghost white. "Oh Merlin, Ron, what happened to you?!"

"What—?! No, what are you three doing here?! There's a fucking troll on the loose!"

Harry's eyes widened. "You—you know about the troll? But you weren't at the Feast—!"

"I know about it because the bloody wanker right is behind me!" Ron pushed his friend forward.

"Oh God, Ron, your face—!"

A loud roar and a slam ripped through the quiet hallway. "NOT NOW, HARRY!" Ron yelled fiercely. "RUN!"

The four then hurried onwards as fast as they could, stumbling and gasping along the way. But the troll, despite its heavy build, had somehow caught up with them. An irritated Ron flicked his wand again. "LUMOS SOLEM! CONFRINGO!"

There was a burst of light, and then of fire, but both were too weak to stall the creature chasing them for long.

Hermione's eyes were wide with fright, only able to keep up with the group because of Neville pulling on her arm. "Wh—what on earth was—?"

"Me trying to keep us alive!" Ron snapped angrily, furious at the fact that despite his best efforts, his spells weren't as strong as the amount of power he was channeling to cast them. I swear to Merlin, once I get enough Galleons, I am replacing this wand! How am I supposed to save anyone if I can't even save myself because of this stubborn piece of bull—?!

There was another roar, much louder than the last, and Ron's insides went cold.

It's right behind us! He took a quick glance. And it's bringing down its club! "GUYS, LOOK OUT!"

Harry turned at Ron's warning and quickly pushed Hermione who was in front of him to the left, while Ron pulled Neville to the right, just in time to avoid the attack that instead crushed the stone where the four of them had been.

But the impact of the striking club and the force of his jump made Ron hit the nearby wall, nearly knocking the boy out of his wits.

"Ron! Ron, come on, get up!" The eighteen-turned-eleven was now dizzy on top of hurting because of his wounds, and would have succumbed to unconsciousness if it weren't for Neville's incessant shaking. "No, no, no! Ron, the troll! It's going after Harry and Hermione!"

…FUCK! Ron's good eye widened before bolting up. Several paces away, the mountain troll noisily lumbered to Harry, his thin face pale and hard, standing with wand aloft but clearly at a loss on what to do, and a terrified Hermione who stayed frozen and trembling on the floor.

The red head flicked his wand with a sharp cry. "REDUCTO!" But Charlie's old wand must really, really hate him with a vengeance, because it chose now to produce a Reducto that popped on the monster's back like a mere bubble. Not even turning to Ron's direction, the troll let out a grunt, its mean little eyes fixed on Harry…

"Harry! Hermione!" Driven by desperation and the thought that his wand was now close to useless, Ron did the only thing he could think of: he propelled himself onto the troll's wide open back.

The smell of trash and swill assaulted Ron's senses as he clawed on the monster's head and ears, somehow managing to drive his wand into one of the beast's nostrils. It roared in pain, stumbling back as its free hand reached frantically for Ron, who was hanging on for dear life.

"RUN!" The time traveller shouted at his friends. "GO AND GET THE PROFESSORS! HURRY! I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG I CAN KEEP THS UP!"

Harry's face turned ashen. "But we can't leave you—"

"BLOODY HELL, HARRY, JUST G—WOAH!" Ron felt something rough and big pull at his robes. One second, he was on the troll's back, the next he was in the air, soaring, meeting Harry's and Hermione's horrified eyes before his back hit the wall with a crack.

"RON!"

The young Gryffindor hit the floor, gasping and choking like a fish out of water, white hot pain coursing through his veins.

Shite, did I break something? This is bad. Real bad. Ron coughed, forcing himself up with an arm, only to feel hands on his back and shoulders.

"C—Come on, Ron." A shaky voice from somewhere in front of him. Hermione. "Come on, get up! Up!"

"Ron," Despite their situation, the time traveller couldn't help his smile. "You called me Ron…"

From behind him, another voice, more urgent and commanding. "Come on, mate! Hang in there! Don't you faint on me!"

"H—Harry—" Ron heard a thud, then another. In his swimming vision, he saw the troll heading for them.

"N—no! Harry, Hermione, the troll! It's heading this way!" He pulled at someone's robe. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! RUN! GO!"

The brown-haired girl looked frightened as ever, but kept her grip on Ron's arm tight, while Harry faced the troll, his body over Ron's as if he could somehow shield the red head.

Ron tried to find his wand, only to remember that it was stuck up the bloody troll's nostril. Shite, no! Please! This can't be happening! Where the hell are the Professors?! SOMEONE, ANYONE, DO SOMETHING!

THUNK!

A chunk of rock flew into the troll's face, right at one of its eyes. The grey beast shook its head, snorting in irritation, only for another rock to hit it square on the nose.

"OI! PEABRAIN!" From about five feet away, Neville, scowling despite being white as a sheet, stood with an armful of rocks, chucking piece after piece at the monster's head. "YEAH, YOU, BOGEY FACE! WANT SOME MORE OF THIS?! THEN COME AND BLOODY GET IT!"

"Neville!" Ron's heart clenched with affection for his obviously scared but very brave friend, who was now in the troll's line of sight as the creature went for Neville, its club swaying as it went. Wait…club…

The massive, stone studded piece of wood swayed again, once, twice, until it finally clicked in Ron's mind.

Of course! Of fucking course! Why not? That's how we beat the troll the first time around!

"H—Harry—" Green eyes met a pained blue one. "Club. Use…club."

Harry was openly confused for a second by what Ron meant until the time traveller swished and flicked his wrist. The bespectacled boy's eyes then narrowed in determination and understanding before getting up, wand aloft.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

The club jerked for a bit before it flew out of the troll's grasp, making it pause in confusion three feet away from Neville who looked dangerously close to fainting. There was a moment of quiet before Hermione shrieked, "Go for the head!"

Harry waved his wand again, and the club plummeted straight for the troll's small noggin.

BLAG!

The monster let out a sound, a cross between a growl and being sick, its legs swaying unsteadily. The group watched with bated breath as it went left, right, left again, arms swinging like massive tree branches, before careening forward. Neville barely managed to back away far enough to avoid getting flattened by the monster's torso as it fell face first into the ground with a loud crack.

A few breathless seconds passed before Hermione broke it again. "Is it…is it dead…?"

Ron tried to force his blurring vision to work, to see if the troll had indeed been knocked down and out for the count, but his head was pounding too hard, and it was getting harder to breathe. He tried to speak, but could only cough out something that tasted like rust.

Rust? That's weird. I don't remember swallowing a pipe—

"Oh my…Harry! He's…!"

"…Ron! Ron…stay…! Come on…!" His friends' frantic voices swam in and out of his consciousness. Ron desperately wanted to assure him that he was fine now that the troll has been dealt with and his friends are safe, but…

"Oh my Merlin—!"

"Professor…help…he's…!"

"Is that…? How did…?"

"Hear…? Mr. Weasley…Weasley…?"

…The blackness…was too…overwhelming…

"Ron…up! RON!"

"…take…Poppy…now!"

"Professor…my fault…I'm so…!"

"Ron, hang in there!"

Give me a minute, Harry. The time traveller thought wearily. Just need to…shut my eyes for a bit…

"…RON!"

"Ron? What are you doing up so early?"

The red-haired boy jumped from the couch in the Common Room on hearing Hermione come down from the girl's dorm. The girl looked like she slept well enough, considering their encounter with the troll from last night. She already had a couple of books under her arm, probably for a bit of light reading, Ron thought.

"Err, morning, Hermione." He coughed awkwardly. "Nothing too important, really. Just wanted to have a quick word."

Hermione raised her brow before tilting her head. "Where's Harry?"

Even when he's the only bloke in the room right now, everyone would rather ask about Harry. Ron stomped the bitter thought away. "Still sleeping. Was a bit worn out after yesterday and it's a weekend so why not?"

"Oh, it's just," Hermione paused. "You and Harry are like two peas in a pod, you know? I'm just so used to seeing you two together. Anyway, did you need something?"

The ginger wizard took a deep breath. OK, Ronald, this is it. Remember what you've practiced last night. Smooth, calm and easy…

"I'm, err, I reckon I owe you an, ah, that's to say—"

Hermione blinked. "Pardon? I didn't quite catch that."

Smooth, Weasley, very smooth. "—look, I'm sorry, all right?"

Hermione's face slackened in surprise, nearly dropping the books she had been holding, but Ron carried on.

"I'm sorry, y'know, about what I said before after Charms? About you not having any friends and being an insufferable know-it-all? It was rude, and mean, but it's not like I meant for you to hear it." Ron winced. "Err, not that that makes it OK, but I…"

The bushy haired girl's face turned rather pink. "You got up this early just to tell me this?"

"It wouldn't feel right if I didn't. I owe you at least that."

"You saved my life, Ron. You and Harry," said Hermione. "If anything, I owe you."

"You wouldn't have run into that troll if it weren't for what I said, I reckon." Ron shrugged. "So sorry."

Hermione's brown eyes studied him carefully, making Ron feel like he was one of McGonagall's complicated notes she needed to decipher or something, before she spoke again. "You know, Ron, I always thought of you as loud, lazy, rude and inconsiderate—"

Ron's brows twitched but he clenched his jaw shut anyway. He figured he deserved to hear that, after all the mean things he said about her.

"But you're quite nice underneath all that." Hermione concluded. "You're not the first person to have said those things about me. Frankly, it shouldn't have hurt the way it did but…" She looked away. "I thought Hogwarts would be different, yet I still ended up being the same friendless know-it-all back in primary school…"

"Now that's not true!" Ron countered quickly. "You have friends now! You have me and Harry!"

Hermione looked stunned for a moment at the declaration before smiling softly, her buck teeth showing a bit. But for some reason, though, Ron found that…rather nice. Unusual but nice.

"Thank you, Ron."

Said ginger cleared his throat, eyes averting to the floor. "Err, no problem."

"Really, Ron, thank you. While you're not the first person to say rude things about me," Hermione said after a short pause. "You're the first one to say you're sorry about it. I can see now why you're Harry's best friend."

Ron ignored the heat on his cheeks in favor of holding out his hand. "Friends?"

Hermione shook his hand tightly. "Friends."

The first thing Ron noticed when he first regained consciousness his face stinging like hell. The second was that there was something slightly rough all over his face, pulling at his head and neck but not in an oppressive way.

The third was that there was something warm and firm nudging at his right arm, and what felt like fingers brushing on his left. He cracked his good eye open and saw a somber looking ginger standing next to his bed.

He was able to tell who almost immediately. "F—Fred?"

Fred's gaze went from Ron's hand to his blue eyes. "…Ronnie?"

Ron smiled lazily and was about to add something when he heard more voices. "Ronnie!"

The boy had to turn his head to see who the ones on his right were. "Perce? George? What are you guys doing here?"

His two older brothers looked just as haggard as Fred had been, with their faces pale and their hair mussed up. And, Merlin help him, it looked like George was close to tears.

Percy was the first to speak. "Oh Ronnie, I'm so sorry."

Ron's visible brow rose in surprise. "Sorry? For what?"

"You don't remember, Ron?" Fred said in a strained whisper. "Professor McGonagall said you ran into the troll."

The troll… Ron inhaled sharply when the memories came back, forcing his body upright. "Right, the troll! It went after me, Harry, Hermione and Neville! Did we beat that blighter? Are the others OK?"

"Oi, take it easy!" George gently pushed Ron back on the bed. "The troll did a number on you, Madame Pomfrey said you shouldn't push yourself for a while."

"Besides, those three are back at the tower. Shaken up by the incident, no doubt, but fine." Percy swallowed thickly. "You're…you're the only one who had to go to the Hospital Wing."

"Good. That's good." Was it him, or did Percy sound a tad bitter? Ron frowned but decided not to comment. "Err, anyway, when did Madame Pomfrey say I could leave?"

"In two days. You hit your head pretty hard, broke some bones and hurt your eye, but she said you'll make a full recovery."

The youngest Weasley boy nodded. "That's a relief. Got me scared for a minute that I'll be one-eyed for the rest of my life."

Percy frowned heavily. "That's neither funny nor appropriate, Ron!"

"Oh lighten up, Percy, it was just a joke!"

"And it's not funny!" The older male exploded, much to Ron's surprise. "You could have gotten yourself killed, Ron! A fully grown mountain troll! Older wizards had died fighting one off! You're beyond lucky to have made it out in one piece!"

Ron had seen his third oldest brother angry before—had an epic row with him about Harry even—but never had he seen Percy this furious; and over being worried about him, of all things! He looked to Fred and George for help, hoping that they'd lighten the mood, tell Percy that he was worrying too much or even poke fun at Ron wrestling a troll.

Instead, Fred, with a trembling hand to his face, whispered almost painfully. "Bloody hell, Ronnie, when George and I told you that you'd have to wrestle a troll in your first year, I didn't think you'd take it this seriously."

Ron scoffed with an eye roll. "I didn't go looking for that wanker, Fred."

"Language, Ron." Percy said sharply.

"Look, it's not that I don't know I'm lucky to get away from that troll alive! Mountain troll, the biggest, meanest, and stupidest of their kind, stinks like all sorts of awful shite. What I don't get is why you lot are still being such worry warts over it!" Ron gestured at himself. "Madame Pomfrey said I'll make a full recovery, right? I'll only be like this for two days so can you please stop looking at me as if you're gathering 'round my funeral or—"

"Stop talking like that, Ron!" That was George this time, shouting so loudly and so close to Ron's ear that it made the youngest Weasley boy flinch.

Geez, what's his problem? The twins used to make morbid jokes all the time, so why can't I? So OK, maybe they're loads funnier at it than me but still… Nevertheless, the utterly disturbed expression on George's face was enough to guilt Ron into another diversionary tactic.

"All I'm saying is that I'm. Fine. Not yet in tip top shape, but I will be, so stop looking so glum about this! You have other stuff you should be worrying about," Ron pointed at Percy, "Like, say, badges to clean, rounds to do," then at Fred and George, "Bludgers to beat, pranks to plan," before finishing with a bright smile. "You know, bigger and better things."

Ron always thought that he was the least funny guy in the family, but bloody hell, could they please give him a little credit? He was trying his best here! He wasn't expecting all out laughter, but honestly, did his brothers' faces have to visibly fall with every word?

Bloody idiot brothers not making any lick of sense, that's what they are.

But just when Ron was ready for another attempt to lighten the mood, the curtains next to his bed parted to reveal Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, good you're awake." The Mediwitch said kindly to him before setting down a covered tray on Ron's bedside table, nodding to the older Weasley boys. "I understand that you wish to stay with your brother, but it is getting rather late and Mr. Weasley needs his rest."

His brothers, in a surprising show of unity, looked like they were going to voice out protests, but McGonagall's stern glare shut them down. "This is not up for negotiation. You may see Ronald tomorrow morning if you are so truly inclined, but for now, he needs rest."

"The troll has been removed from the premises, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore added softly, his twinkling gaze on a stiff looking Percy. "I promise you, Ronald will be in good hands here."

Percy's jaw closed with an audible snap, Fred's lips twisted in a deep frown while George's eyes turned misty, somber and pained. It made Ron curse himself for causing his brothers to look so unlike themselves, and over something as small as this!

"Perce, Fred, George, it's fine, really." He gave them a weak smile. "I'll see you all tomorrow?"

It took a few seconds before the older Weasleys finally seemed to relent, with George giving Ron a gentle pat on the head before leaving the time traveller with only the three adult wizards for company.

"Now that that is settled," Pomfrey began after bringing out her wand. "How are you feeling, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron paused contemplatively. "Still sore, especially around my face, and my limbs feel twitchy. My eye also itches like he—err, crazy. How long have I been out?"

"About four hours since you were found. The soreness and itching are to be expected, and the latter is a good sign. Means your wounds are healing properly." The Mediwitch flicked her wand around the red head a few times before nodding. "Now I suppose you're feeling rather famished about now. Your friends said you missed the Feast. And given the extent of your injuries, you will need as much nutrition as you can get."

Ron's stomach let out a pitiful growl as if on cue. "Thanks, Madame Pomfrey. Err, speaking of my friends…"

His hopeful gaze fell on McGonagall who adjusted her glasses before speaking. "They have been sent back to the Gryffindor Tower right after we found you with the troll, terribly shaken and worried about you, of course. I understand that you need your rest, Mr. Weasley but," She sent a pointed stare at the frowning Pomfrey. "This simply cannot wait."

"You want to know what happened?"

"We have already heard Mr. Potter's, Mr. Longbottom's and Ms. Granger's versions of the story," Dumbledore said kindly. "All that is missing is your own."

"…I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore," said Ron after a pause. "It's my fault they got involved with the troll. They wouldn't have run into it if they weren't looking for me."

McGonagall looked like she wanted to say something, but Dumbledore held out a hand. The old man then sat down next to Ron and nodded. "Can you tell me what happened, dear boy?"

And at that moment, Dumbledore had such a comforting, easy grandfather-like aura around him that Ron had to remind himself to not meet the man's blue eyes. "I was in the loo…I wasn't feeling very well, and I hadn't noticed the time. Just when I was about to leave, there was this sort of small earthquake, which was actually the troll banging on the door. Had to use a few spells to get away from it. I was going to find a teacher, but then Harry, Neville and Hermione were there, looking for me. Then the troll caught up to us and…" He swallowed. "Good thing Harry was able to levitate the club and use it on the troll. Managed to knock it out, I think. Didn't see it, though. That's when I got knocked out, and that's all I really remember."

Ron saw Dumbledore and McGonagall exchange looks.

"A fascinating show of skill, that, to be able to levitate the club of a mountain troll," said Dumbledore. "But I believe there's more to this story than you're telling us."

The time traveller fought hard to keep a blank face. "W—what else is there to tell?"

"From what your friends told us, it appears that you have, so to speak, the lion's share of the responsibility of taking down the troll," explained the Headmaster. "It appeared that the creature had already taken considerable amount of damage that is most certainly not caused by a blow to the head. It had burns all over its front, as well as splinters of glass on its body."

Ron kept his eyes glued on his wringing hands on his lap. "First year spells weren't going to cut it for a mountain troll, were they?"

"What spells did you use then?"

The boy thought about lying, but then realized that Dumbledore will find out the truth anyway (if the man already didn't know). "A couple of blasting curses. The exploding charm. A reductor—"

He heard McGonagall inhale sharply. "Those are sixth to seventh year level spells, Mr. Weasley!"

Ron blushed. "That's why I botched them up so bad. Should've known reading on a spell and actually casting them are two different things."

"…Mr. Weasley, please look at me."

Shite. Ron slowly lifted his gaze to meet Dumbledore's, his mind working through every little thing Harry told him and Hermione before about Occlumency. Dumbledore may be a fighter for the Light, but Ron wouldn't put it past the old man to try to read his mind.

"Snape said you won't feel mild probes on your mind, but because there's not much force behind, they won't be able to see past surface thoughts."

So Ron forced as much of his memories of the incident into the forefront, praying that it would be enough to shield any and all evidence of him being more than just another first year student.

It felt like an eternity later that Dumbledore smiled. "You have nothing to be ashamed of or be sorry for, Mr. Weasley. Your actions and due diligence have saved more than one life tonight. Any other first year might have quailed under the viciousness of a mountain troll, and had this incident happened to anyone else, we may have lost an innocent tonight."

"…You're not mad, about me knowing those advanced spells." Ron blurted. "I…I just, err, read some of it in the library. Just wanted to learn about them, in theory I mean! I'd never cast them if I really didn't have to."

"Ah, yes. Your Professors and some of the lecturers mentioned what a bright, studious boy you are, Mr. Weasley. Following the footsteps of William and Percy now, are you?" Dumbledore chuckled. "But yet you also possess the daring mettle of Charlie, Fred and George, as well as something entirely your own."

The red head blinked, completely lost. "Err, what?"

"I would not think of inhibiting your appetite for learning, as long as you do not perform advanced magic unsupervised," said Dumbledore. "I speak from personal experience. Why, there was one time, in my stubborn, youthful pride, I attempted to cast a powerful fire spell. Sadly, it nearly burned off all of my hair so dreadfully that I had to hide the black spots with a hat for weeks!"

An image of a black-faced Dumbledore with a sizzling fringe was such an odd mental image that Ron barely managed to stifle his snicker. The wizened wizard in front of him however appeared pleased with the reaction. "Hogwarts is a place of learning, and bright, youthful minds such as yourself are very much welcome to explore and learn in her hallowed halls. But take care to not lose sight of yourself along the way. Learning is important, but it is not the only thing that matters."

Ron nodded easily. "Yes, Headmaster."

"Very good. Now, I believe you have a late-night dinner to tuck yourself into." Dumbledore then tilted his head to McGonagall. "Unless your Head of House has a few more words?"

McGonagall adjusted her glasses. "While it is a commendable thing that you are reading such advanced materials for your age, I have to strictly emphasize to not go practicing such magic unsupervised. It may have saved your life this time, but casting such high-level spells with a still developing magical core could have detrimental effects, either on your target or on yourself."

Ron had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying that he wasn't an idiot, he had been casting those spells for two years and helped teach others how to cast said spells. All things considered, he was lucky he didn't get anything more than some reprimands.

"And while it is admirable for you to take responsibility for your friends' actions, in spite of their youth, I consider their choices to be their own responsibility. Something they fully understood, I can tell," said McGonagall. "Ms. Granger admitted to being the reason you were…feeling unwell, as you put it, and missed the Feast."

The time traveller's eyes widened. "S—She had?"

The old witch nodded. "Your intentions are noble, Mr. Weasley, but it is for the best that Ms. Granger learns to take responsibility for her actions."

Ron's cheeks burned at McGonagall's flat stare. "Sorry, Professor."

McGonagall nodded to Dumbledore once more, and the Headmaster got to his feet. "We best be off, Mr. Weasley. I'm afraid we have already stretched Madame Pomfrey's patience to its limits. And any wise wizard knows, never make an enemy out of your Mediwitch."

"Albus." Pomfrey, who was at Ron's right, clicked her tongue, while Ron grimaced, having forgotten that said Mediwitch was also in the room.

"Oh, and before we go, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore with a wink. "Fifteen points to Gryffindor for having the due diligence and presence of mind in the face of a fully grown troll!"

"Albus," McGonagall groaned, and Ron could still hear them discussing on the way out of the Hospital Wing. "Flitwick already gave Potter fifteen points for levitating the troll's club!"

"And you have already taken five points off from each of them—"

"My point is that you cannot give them any more—"

"Minerva—"

"Don't Minerva me, Albus! You can't make the children think that—!"

The clinking of dinnerware in his front diverted Ron's attention back to Pomfrey, who had set a bedside table in front of him with a tray of chowder, some chips, a pumpkin pasty and a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Just have what you can finish, Mr. Weasley," said Pomfrey. "Do you think you can manage or shall I assist you?"

Ron coughed uncomfortably. "N—No, thanks, Madame Pomfrey. I think I can manage."

While it was a bit hard with his arms and hands being more uncooperative than usual, it was also no different from the time he was recovering from the brains attacking him during fifth year so it didn't take Ron long to adapt. But even as he sipped some of his chowder and nibbled on some of his chips, Ron's thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier conversation with Dumbledore and McGonagall, and stayed there for the rest of the night.

It was late in the afternoon when Ron's friends dropped in for a visit, a little after Ron woke up from his nap.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep after lunch, but seeing his parents that morning had tired him out more than he thought. Both of them looked a bit worse for wear, with their faces as tight and drawn as the coats they wore over robes. His father looked like he hadn't had a wink of sleep, and his mother promptly burst to tears when she saw Ron in all his bandaged glory.

It was…disconcerting to see them so worried about him like this. Ron was so used to their frantic attentions being directed to his other siblings—or even Harry or Hermione—and him being the one who tries to smooth things over. But this situation? He didn't know where to begin on how to deal with it. If his earlier attempts at humor with his siblings didn't work…he really didn't want his ears grounded to dust if he made his mother even more upset.

"I'm fine, Mum." Ron finally went for good old reassurance. "Madame Pomfrey said I'll be as good as new tomorrow, so I'll be able to get back to classes soon."

"Oh, Ronnie," Molly's eyes softened fondly as she ran a hand through his hair. "Your father and I are so proud that you are taking your studies very seriously. Minerva just told us how a good student you have been so far. But please don't forget to take care of yourself too, dear. The most important thing is for you to get back in tip top shape first."

The boy's cheeks burned as he averted his gaze to his lap. It felt like forever since his mother gave him such a loving look. Had she ever, even? He pushed the somber thought aside. "Thanks, mum."

"A troll…" Arthur whispered with a shake of his head. "I honestly don't know if I should be more impressed or horrified. Not even Charlie or the twins got into this much trouble in their first year."

"…Sorry, dad."

"It's not you who should be sorry for anything, Ron," Arthur's eyes darkened. "How could a troll get into the school? Hogwarts is supposed to be warded from top to bottom!"

Ron paused before shrugging, partly in jest. "Maybe one of the Professors let it in as a Halloween joke?"
"Ronald!" Molly scolded sharply.

"Only joking, Mum."

"But all things considered, you dealt with the situation very well. Much better than I would have done as a first year." Arthur gently squeezed Ron's shoulder. "I'm very proud of you, Ron, but try not to get yourself into any more life-threatening situations. You have no idea how much you scared me and your mother when Albus told us of your run-in with the troll."

Ron thought of promising just that, if only to stop his parents from looking so troubled. But he knew that it would be an outright lie, and it made his gut queasy and cold just thinking it.

Instead, he asked, "I just remembered, how's Ginny? You haven't told her, have you, or anyone else? It's not that big of a deal anyway, so I won't mind if you didn't."

Molly opened her mouth, closed it with a frown before speaking again. "We left Ginny with the Fawcetts for a while, what with the Lovegoods out on their…expedition." She snorted. "And no, dear, we haven't told anyone else. We did mention to Ginny that we had to come see you."

"She insisted on joining us." added Arthur. "But we thought that you would not want for her to see you like this."

Ron nodded in quick agreement. "'Course not." If his parents were to be believed, then Bill and Charlie hadn't been told either, which in Ron's mind was a very good thing. Because of the limited communication with the two oldest Weasley children, Bill and Charlie hadn't been up to date with the Golden Trio's adventures during the first two years, and even then, most of the stories the siblings shared with them during that trip to Egypt had been about Harry saving the day.

(Although Ron may have downplayed just how dangerous the life-sized chess game with McGonagall had been. And he definitely did not tell them about meeting Aragog. He wasn't bonkers, thank you very much!)

What his two oldest brothers wouldn't know won't hurt them, Ron concluded to himself, but he'll need to write to Ginny as soon as he was discharged. His sharp little sister may have noticed something amiss with his parents coming to see him, and would have probably been miffed at being left out of seeing Hogwarts and their other siblings. And it was in the middle of thinking about what to write to her that Ron nodded off to, only to wake up to see his new set of visitors.

"Harry? Neville? Hermione?" Ron blinked again to clear the sleep from his eyes.

"Hullo, Ron." Neville said with a wave from Ron's left, his smile oddly strained. "Err, sorry if we took a while to visit. Harry's had Quidditch practice. Wanted to skip it, but I told him you wouldn't want him to. So, uhm, how're you feeling?"

"Much better. Madame Pomfrey said she'll finally get rid of these bloody bandages some time later. About time too—they're bloody itchy! — and I miss seeing things with both my eyes." Ron chuckled to himself. "How about you lot?"

Neville looked at Harry and Hermione uneasily before answering, "It's the weekend, so nothing much happened. Some of our House mates have been asking about whether we really took down the troll by ourselves. We obviously didn't tell them everything, and Professor McGonagall told them to stop bugging us for the details. You know how right scary she can be when you don't do what she says."

Do I ever. Ron thought with a shake of his head before gesturing to Harry and Hermione. "What's with you two? You look as if you just bit into a lemon?"

"Sorry, Ron, it's just," Harry cleared his throat. "I'm really happy you're OK, or as OK as you can be after getting thrown off a troll's back."

"Which means I'll be back to normal on Monday," shrugged Ron. "Getting hurt by a troll is no fun, but at least there's no lasting damage. Thank Merlin nobody else got hurt! I mean, it would've been better if none of us had, but it could be worse, right? It's really not a big deal!"

"Not a big deal?" Hermione whispered sharply. "You were nearly blinded in one eye and turned into a cut up mess and you think that wasn't a big deal?"

For someone who has been attacked by malevolent brains, seen werewolf cuts and bites, and had been gruesomely splinched twice? Yes. Though Ron belatedly realized that this was the first time his friends had witnessed someone they knew hurt in such a manner. Thinking of how he would have taken it as an eleven-year-old made the time traveller wince at how thoughtless he had been.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, that was bloody insensitive of me," said Ron, making his friends' eyes widen. "But I'm just tired of everyone looking at me as if I'm gonna die on them or something! The troll beat me up good, and it still hurts everywhere, but I'll be fine! Merlin, I've lost count of how many times I've had to say that! And why does everyone have to make it their fault somehow that this happened to me? Even Fred and George—Fred and George, the frigging pranking master prats—are treating me like I'm some fancy, fragile tea set! Just—bloody hell!"

The eighteen turned eleven let out a breath, enjoying the brief lightness that came with letting himself rant out. But the feeling soon went away when Hermione burst into tears.

Aww, bullocks! "H—Hermione, shite, what did I say? I didn't mean to—"

"I'm—I'm so sorry, Ron."

"—Huh?"

Hermione had her face buried in her hands, muffling her already shaky voice to the point that Ron had to strain a bit to hear. "It's all my fault you ran into the troll and got hurt so badly. And you were just trying to be nice to me, even when I was treating you like dirt—and I told you off. I—I said all those cruel, hurtful things—" She let out a sob. "No wonder no one wants to be friends with me."

The red-haired wizard's first instinct was to comfort her, to tell her that it was all right and that he understood. But then his Head of House's words came back to him.

"It is for the best that Ms. Granger learns to take responsibility for her actions."

Now that he thought about it, Ron didn't fully understand what happened between them; and it would be just fake, patronizing even, if he said that he did. So instead, he started with, "What were you mad about then, really?"

"A number of things, actually. Though all of them sound completely ridiculous and petty…"

"I'm listening, Hermione."

Harry cleared his throat. "Should we leave?"

Ron met his best friend's green eyes for a moment before turning to Hermione. "Do you want them to? I'm fine either way."

The bushy haired girl looked taken aback by the question before shaking her head. "No, I don't think they should. I…I think they ought to hear this too. I…I owe them as much as I do you."

She took another steadying breath after wiping her tears away. "I'm a Muggleborn, but even among muggles, I never felt like I belonged. I love my parents dearly, but…I never had any real friends, not even in primary school. I tried, of course. Even when I'd rather read instead, I'd join in their games every now and then. It never worked, because…they said I was too smart, a know-it-all. Just because I wanted to do my best and have good grades. Because I wanted to learn.

"But then Professor McGonagall showed up. She told me I could do magic, and that I'll be going to Hogwarts to learn how to use it. It felt like stepping into the wardrobe to Narnia—I was off to a new world and I was expecting a wonderful adventure. Maybe that's why I never really belonged at home—I was a witch! And at Hogwarts, I could finally find the friends I couldn't have in the Muggle world, because I was where I belonged." Hermione laughed humorlessly. "Turns out it wasn't any different."

"Hermione…"

"Muggleborns are actually considered to be the lowest kind of wizards in the magical world. I do well in class, but everyone still thinks I'm a know-it-all. Even my own House mates would rather talk to a wall than to me! But the worst part is," the girl bit her lip. "Is that the only one who's ever been nice to me, is the one who's getting everything I've ever wanted."

"Really? Who?" It took Neville's elbow to his side and even Harry's raised brow in disbelief before it dawned to Ron. "You—you can't mean me?"

"Pureblood and top student of the year. Even Professor Snape, as horrid as he is, seems to acknowledge you. But that's not the best part," said Hermione bitterly. "The best part is that even if you're like me—studious, hardworking, a serious student—for some reason everyone just likes you!"

"You can't be serious—!"

"Do you think I wouldn't notice? You're best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived, but even when he or Neville are not around, it's like you're able to find a friend in just about everyone! I've even seen you with students from other Houses, and they…they all seem to want to be around you. Because you're funny, witty, and they enjoy listening to you even when you're teaching them something! And I—I just—I always thought—" Hermione let out a sob. "I would have accepted it if being a good student means not being good with people or making friends, even if it will make me sad. But you! You make it look so easy! And it—it's just so frustrating and so ridiculous! Because why can you do it? Why can you take the cake and eat it too? Why can't I?!"

Ron was honestly gobsmacked. A part of him entertained Neville's idea that Hermione was jealous of him being a top student—as ridiculous as that sounds— but he hadn't thought that the roots ran deeper. But what confused and saddened him even more was that he really wasn't what Hermione thought. Sure, he got along well with his House mates and some of the students in the study clubs, but he wasn't popular, nowhere near Cedric or Bill had been back in the day. He was just an average bloke who could make others (save for his siblings) laugh. There wasn't any big mystery behind why.

And as for his performance in school, Ron was sure he explained that to death already. At least, to himself.

But then Hermione always had the hardest time socializing, hadn't she? Even in the DA, she didn't really connect well with the other members except for him, Harry, Neville and Ginny. It was why Harry did most of the teaching in DA instead of Hermione, despite her superiority in theoretical magic. Ron never really thought about it, because in his mind, he grew to love Hermione for who she was, and Hermione had grown confident enough in who she is to take what everyone else thought of her in stride.

But this frazzled, teary Hermione looked genuinely confused and hurt, to the point of questioning whether there was something wrong with her that made her so bad at making friends, looking at Ron as if he had the answers.

"If you're asking me…" Ron began carefully. "I think it's because of the way you approach people."

Hermione blinked. "The way I approach people?"

"I know you're just trying to be helpful, Hermione, but no one likes to be told what to do by someone who thinks they know better. Some can barely take it from the Professors, let alone a first year," said Ron. "There's a Ravenclaw I know, Sue Li, she reminds me a lot of you actually, bookish and really smart. But she shares her smarts in a way that doesn't make the others feel that they're…uh, dumber than her. She turns learning into something light and interesting, and not spouting of pages of textbooks word per word. That's great in class, but not really in casual conversations."

"O…Oh…"

"I know you're not a terrible person, Hermione. The first time we met, you were helping Neville here find his frog," Ron gestured to his other best friend who nodded with a small smile. "And during that time with the troll, you joined Harry and Neville in finding me. Hell, you stayed with me even when a troll was about to smash us to bits! Now that's a true Gryffindor right there!"

"It was the least I could do." Hermione said tightly, her cheeks turning pink. "And it's my fault you got into that situation. I couldn't have lived with myself if anything happened to you and I wasn't there to help."
"Exactly!" Ron clapped his hands. "I just know you're a good person, Hermione! You just need to learn to people better, and I bet they'll get to see what a great friend you can be!"

Hermione stared at him. "After everything that's happened…how can you still think of me like that?"

Because I know you, and the amazing kind of person you can be in the future. Ron smiled. "You faced a troll with me. That counts for a whole lot, I reckon."

There was a moment of quiet, before Hermione suddenly threw her arms around Ron's neck, making the boy's face and neck as red as his hair. "H—Hermione?!"

"I'm really sorry, Ron," she hiccupped against his shoulder. "For everything."

The scent of wood, flowers and shampoo filled Ron's nose and it took all of his willpower to crush her against him like his heart wanted. Not only because this was the younger self of the woman he loved, but also because of how much everything clouding his senses reminded him of the friends and family he had lost and missed so terribly much.

"I—It's nothing! Really!" Ron forced his shaky voice to sound light, patting her back as gently as possible. "And besides, it's partly my fault too. Was being too pushy about being your friend. Should have realized you needed space. But we're good now, right?"

Hermione pulled away from him (to his relief and regret), her cheeks still pink. "I'd like that. If that's all right with everyone."

"Since it's what I've been wanting for the last two months, I'm more than fine with that," said Ron.

Neville caught Ron's eye before nodding as well. "It's all right with me too, Hermione."

All gazes then fell on Harry, who Ron just now realized looked rather tense. Green eyes met blue, and the time traveller saw frustration, sympathy, worry and, strangely enough, protectiveness. Strange, why would that be there? Or maybe Ron was just misreading things again.

"I…I guess I should apologize to you too, Hermione. For yelling at you the other night," said Harry. (Harry yelled at her? Really? As far as Ron remembered, Harry didn't start going off biting other's heads off until fifth year. What could have Hermione done to make his best friend lose his temper like that?) "I won't apologize for what I said, but I'll admit…the way I said things may have been uncalled for."

But Hermione shook her head, eyes kind and her smile watery. "It's all right. I definitely deserved it, and I'll even tell you to do just that if something like this happens again."

"Even against you?"

"Especially against me."

The two stared at each other before a smile slowly dawned on Harry's features. "You're all right, Hermione."

Hermione laughed slightly. "Nice to know I have Harry Potter's stamp of approval."

"Almost. You got your work cut out for you, but you're getting there."

Ron shot a questioning look at Neville. "What was that all about?"

But the Longbottom heir just smiled serenely with a pat on Ron's arm. "Never you mind, Ron. Never you mind."

All that confusion aside (because the cheeky little prats won't tell him anything), at least Hermione was their friend again. If there was one thing that the troll incident had been good for, it was for making it happen in this world too.

But what in the world is a Narnia? And why is it in a wardrobe anyway?

A postscript: I have been reading a new manga series called Hamefura, an isekai (reincarnation in a new world) story about a girl being reincarnated as the villainess Catarina Claes in a visual novel game whose main goal is to stop her death flags from happening and improving her relationships with the other characters in the process. I mention this because as the story progresses, Catarina has not only managed to avoid her doom endings but made everyone—and I mean everyone, even the female rivals in the game—fall in love with her. And the clincher? She doesn't even realize it, and is so dense as fuck she has fanon nicknames like black hole and Bakarina (a play of words meaning "stupid Catarina"). And as I was going through my work (drafts, notes and all), I've come to realize that I have turned Ron into something like this, a Baka!Ron. Unfortunately, I'm way too deep into this work to change the character now. So, if you don't like the character of Baka!Ron, then TBA won't be for you.

Will this turn into a Ron harem story? Absolutely not. But will this turn into everyone loves Ron? Broadly speaking, yes. And the best part is that Ron will be absolutely slow on the uptake. Poor bugger. :D

If you've reached this far, thank you again so much for reading! I've received so many good comments and suggestions for this fanfic, and rest assured I take all of your feedback in consideration (within reason). Thank you also to everyone who followed and added this story to your favorites!

Up Next: More of the Troll aftermath, a bit of planning and Quidditch!