AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 123 is done!

Thanks for all the reviews! We made it over 3000, and it's all thanks to you guys! Thank you for the kind words and motivation, it really helps me keep going!

(Answering an old question: The Barbara in the Aurors is different from Barbara Miller of Slytherin.)

Please enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not intend to make any money off of this. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling , and I take no credit of it whatsoever.

I was also inspired by Demon Eyes Laharl's: THE RED KNIGHT! and also from Random-Fruitcake04's: CHOICES! I hope you check them out as well because they are genuinely very good stories.

There's also another Ron story out that's really good so far! It's called 'There and Back Again', and it's written by Chuchi Otaku. Please, go check it out! I've certainly enjoyed reading it!

Fate

Chapter 123 – A Broken World

Ronald Weasley's POV

Friday 5th February, 1994 (Diagon Alley – Past Midday)

"Tonks!" Ron put on a smile as he approached the Auror and Senior Undersecretary.

Both witches stopped glaring at each other, instead focusing their attention on the redhead.

"Mr. Weasley," Umbridge greeted blandly, but Ron ignored her for now. "We are in the middle of a conversation-"

"I like your hair today," Ron said to Tonks. "I might be a bit biased in favour of redheads, but the colour suits you very nicely."

Tonks' lips twitched upwards, but she managed to maintain her no-nonsense attitude.

"You really shouldn't be out on the streets, Mr. Weasley," Tonks said. "It's not safe for you."

"Hem hem," Umbridge cleared her throat, looking annoyed by his rudeness.

"Mr. Weasley?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "C'mon, Tonks… I remember asking you to call me Ron. My father is Mr. Weasley, it doesn't really suit me yet."

"Mr. Weasley, you are interrupting us!" Umbridge raised her voice, and Ron finally looked at her. I can't outright kill her; she's far too high on the Ministry's food chain. Plus, I don't want people to think of her as a victim. I want them to see her for the vile toad she really is, and once she's lost everything she holds dear, that's when I'll show her my own brand of justice.

"Am I?" Ron asked, looking back to Tonks. "I'm terribly sorry, I just wanted to come say hello to an old friend."

"An old friend?" Umbridge cocked an eyebrow at Tonks.

"He helped liberate my cousin, remember?" Tonks replied. "You know, after the Ministry locked him away without even giving him a trial?"

Ron felt a pang of anger on Sirius' behalf, but the Calming Draught quickly subdued his emotions. Relax, Ron. The British Ministry will get its just deserts soon enough.

"You are out of line, Auror!" Umbridge warned, sticking her chubby finger in Tonks' face. "I will not stand for this insubordination! Do you hear me?!"

"I'm pretty sure everyone in Magical Britain just heard you," Ron said blandly, and Tonks smirked in response. "Mind lowering your volume? There are children here, and you're upsetting them."

"Excuse me?!" Umbridge turned on Ron. "Do you know who you're speaking to?!"

"A greedy toady who has kissed every arse in the Ministry just to get to her position of power," Ron replied calmly, and while Umbridge looked shocked and offended beyond description, Tonks covered her mouth with her hand as her eyes lit up. "From what I'm seeing, I don't know where you expect these people to go. You destroyed their homes, and I highly doubt that you're helping them find new ones. Shall we send them into Muggle London? Wait… That would fuck the Statute of Secrecy in its arse, right? What about the Upper District? Oh, wait… Your overlords would get pissed off with you if you dare step out of line like that."

"What about the Ministry itself?" Ron went on, enjoying the look of utter disbelief on Umbridge's face. "No, that wouldn't work either. The Ministry hardly cares for its public, so why would they step in to protect them when they get nothing in return for it."

"ENOUGH!" Umbridge frothed at the mouth. "Auror Tonks, arrest him!" HA! Good luck with that.

"What?" Tonks blinked, losing her mirth and looking truly stunned.

"I thought this was a free country?" Ron pretended to be confused. "I was just giving my opinion, Madam Undersecretary… There's no need to trample on my rights."

Ron then put his hands forward, gesturing Tonks to bind them.

"I wonder what Lord Greengrass will do when he finds out about my unlawful arrest," Ron sighed dramatically. "I imagine that no one would be safe from his wrath, especially the people who locked up his beloved apprentice."

Umbridge's left eye twitched, and doubt overtook her enraged expression. Tonks noticed this change in demeanour, and she quickly pulled out her wand and aimed it at Ron's hands.

"Ronald Weasley, you are hereby under arrest for…" Tonks trailed off, looking towards Umbridge. "What is the charge, Madam Undersecretary?"

"Be very careful, Dolores Umbridge," Ron suddenly became serious, his pale eyes locking onto Umbridge's. "My mentor is not the forgiving sort, and he could have you transferred to some remote little village for the rest of your career. I imagine that Minister Fudge needs all the support he can get right now, and I know for certain that he'll gladly throw you under the bus if it helps him stay afloat." You weak-minded fucks are all the same… Traitorous and greedy beyond belief.

"Madam Undersecretary?" Tonks said. "On what charge should I arrest Ronald Weasley?"

Umbridge looked between the two, gave them both a hateful sneer, and then she marched off in a huff. Ron smirked to himself; power-hungry sycophants were so easy to shut down. They have no idea what real power is, which is why they beg for scraps from their betters.

"That was fun," Ron looked to Tonks, and her crimson hair slowly became straw blonde. "How does you hair work, exactly?"

"It changes with my mood," Tonks pocketed her wand, giving Ron a smile. Odd… Her smile isn't reaching her eyes. "When I'm angry, it turns red. When I'm sad, it turns blue."

"And right now?" Ron asked.

"Right now, I feel smug," Tonks' smile turned into a smirk. "We showed her, huh? Honestly, that woman is as vile as they come… I'm glad that you appeared when you did. She wanted to throw these poor souls out into the cold, if you know what I mean."

"Walk with me," Ron began walking towards the camps. "I want to know more about what's going on here."

"You sound very lordly," Tonks chuckled. "Sirius told me about what you're doing, Ron, and I think that it's brilliant."

"And what has Sirius told you?" Ron asked, the potion making him sound rather cold.

"Um… Nothing bad," Tonks gave him a slightly curious look. Shit, I need to put some emotion into my voice. She's an Auror, one that was trained by Madam Roberts. I doubt that I can outsmart her like I could Umbridge.

"Sorry about sounding cold…" Ron sighed out. "That woman got under my skin with her treatment of these people."

Tonks gave him an understanding nod, her features becoming softer.

"You're sweet," Tonks said. So very sweet…

"Sometimes," Ron said, giving Tonks a smile.

"Not from what I hear," Tonks hummed. "When Sirius, and the others, first showed up, I had no idea what they were up to. But then they started handing out food and blankets, Lady Prewett even brought a cart full of Healing Potions… Sirius told me that it was your idea."

"What else did he tell you?" Ron asked.

"He mentioned something about an alliance," Tonks smirked. Sirius… There's a time and place to run your mouth. "You're very ambitious, aren't you? Every time your name comes up, you're up to something grand!"

"I have little choice," Ron shrugged, looking around at the tired and broken people of Knockturn Alley. I can't give you back your lost ones, but I will help you find your feet again. "If I hadn't urged my alliance to do something about this, they would have happily ignored these people's suffering."

"Well, I'm glad that at least someone cares…" Tonks' eyes became a little dull.

"Is something on your mind?" Ron asked. "You seem… distant…" Every time I've run into her, she's been so excitable, but now, she's as grim as me.

"Just Auror business…" Tonks put on a smile; though it was so forced that Ron wished he hadn't asked about her worries.

"You were in the raid," Ron said, and Tonks' hair turned blue. "I'm sorry that you went through that. I read about the fallen, it couldn't have been easy to lose your friends. I'm very sorry, Tonks." Rufus Scrimgeour… I considered him a thorn in my side, but in the end, he died saving other people. I hope that I can show his bravery in my final hours as well.

"Thanks…" Tonks all but whispered, her eyes scanning the homeless.

Ron decided to change the topic; Tonks clearly didn't want to talk about this with him. She seems very angry with Umbridge, so it's not too farfetched to believe that she's angry at Fudge as well. Maybe I've just found my whistle-blower?

"What's the state of the Ministry right now?" Ron asked, and Tonks cocked an eyebrow.

"It's in a panic," Tonks replied eventually. "The Minister is being blamed by everyone ever since the Daily Prophet turned on him, and that's spooked him and his underlings."

"That's why Umbridge was here?" Ron asked.

"She was here because she's trying to show the public that the Ministry 'cares'…" Tonks rolled her eyes. "None of these people wanted to hear her nonsense, however, and that set her off. She's so damn vile that she can't even accept her part in this… It's disgusting."

"They're starting to realize that their days in power are coming to an end," Ron nodded to himself. "This could turn ugly now that I think about it. Until someone steps up to replace Fudge, he still controls the Ministry and its employees."

"A lot of those employees are trying to distance themselves from him," Tonks whispered.

"They're not worried about their jobs?" Ron asked.

"The ones who care more about their jobs than about using their common sense are sticking with the Minister," Tonks replied. "This mostly includes paper-pushers and bootlickers like Umbridge… The rest of us just want someone new in charge."

Tonks suddenly realized that she was being a bit too open about her opinions, and she gave Ron a rather tense look.

"I shouldn't be telling you this-" Tonks started.

"I plan to get rid of Fudge," Ron told her, and Tonks' eyes shot wide open. "I didn't mean that I want him dead, Tonks… I just want someone more intelligent, and honest, in charge of the Ministry. After all, we both know that he's back, right?"

"Shhh," Tonks shushed him, looking around in a slight panic. "Did your parents tell you about Order business?" I run the Order, and since the Headmaster isn't around, I'll be implementing a more aggressive strategy to put us ahead.

"They did," Ron replied, he couldn't really say what was on his mind. "Look around you, Tonks… Count the dead… Even you have to admit that something needs to be done. Fudge is a puppet of Lucius Malfoy, and Malfoy is a puppet of the Dark Lord. At this moment, our Ministry is inadvertently serving his purposes. The Daily Prophet is pushing his agenda without even knowing it, and the Wizengamot is filled with corrupt bastards who eat out of Death-Eater hands. This country is fucked, and anyone with half a brain would pack their shit and leave."

Tonks' mouth hung open, though she didn't seem upset with his words.

"The Daily Prophet isn't reporting the whole truth," Ron stepped forward and whispered. "I know that Lucius Malfoy was involved in the 'negotiations' with the Vampires, and I know that he urged Fudge to act before thinking. I plan to report the whole truth in The Quibbler, but I need someone who is willing to give credibility to the truth."

"You want me to spill Ministry secrets?" Tonks muttered. "I can't do that… I'll lose my job, Ron. Worse, I'll lose any chance of helping the Aurors in the war."

"Then let's find more people like you," Ron changed his strategy. "The Ministry can't afford to fire all of their Aurors, not with Azkaban's worst on the loose." Ron then leaned further in. "I want to speak to Madam Bones, but I can't get a hold of her given how fucked everything is right now. If you could ask her to owl me, we can do something about Fudge and his fools."

Ron then stepped back, looking around for prying eyes. Safe.

"Think about my offer," Ron said, giving Tonks a meaningful look. "Change won't come by itself, Tonks… Now is the time to act."

"Fifty Veela, the Sanctuary for the Werewolves, the dealings with the French, this alliance of yours, and now a plot to overthrow the Minister himself…" Tonks just stared at him, looking slightly disturbed. "Who are you?"

"Just someone who's sick of doing nothing," Ron replied, and then he turned to leave. "If you want justice for these people, you will deliver my message to Madam Bones."

With that, Ron began making his way towards Sirius. The Lord of the Black Family was staring at him intently, Pandora had no doubt told him of Ron's behaviour. Eh, who cares? I still plan to drag them around for the remainder of the day. I will show them the world I live in, and if they ever question my character again, I'll leave them to their fates. No more mercy. I am done with their constant drama.

"Sirius, I'm glad to see that you're giving back for a change," Ron 'smiled' as he came to a stop. "It's fulfilling, isn't it? To help the helpless? It's how I felt when I pulled you out of Azkaban."

Sirius lost his intent glare, no doubt jarred by Ron's monotone and blunt words.

"Pandora was right…" Sirius muttered. "You've completely lost it…"

"I have?" Ron asked. "How so?"

"She told me that you're tormenting your own mother," Sirius suddenly hissed, looking genuinely angry with Ron. "What's wrong with you, kid? I thought that you were acting strange last night, but this? What the fuck?!"

"Relax," Ron said calmly. "Don't make a scene right now, Sirius, you will undermine our work."

"Fuck the work…" Sirius grit out, taking a step forward. "You'd better start explaining yourself, Ron, because I'm seconds away from smacking some sense into you-"

"You'll hit me?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "Go on, then. See it how ends for you."

Sirius drew in a deep breath, trying his best to calm himself down.

"Just… Just tell me that it's not true," Sirius exhaled, locking eyes with Ron. "Tell me that you're not doing this to Molly and Pandora."

"I'm doing it for them," Ron stated bluntly, ignoring the look of shock and anger that immediately crossed Sirius' face. "Look around you, Sirius… Look at the fucking state of this world. A Dark Lord on the loose, his most loyal attack dogs back at his side, Albus Dumbledore on his deathbed, hundreds dead, a fool in charge of our government, and a war on the horizon that threatens to destroy everything we hold dear. We are literally in the end times, and yet, my family is too busy with getting in my way rather than helping me fix this mess."

"Fix this mess?" Sirius looked truly baffled. "You're a child!"

"This child pulled your sorry arse out of Azkaban," Ron reminded Sirius. "This child saved Harry Potter from a Mountain Troll. This child destroyed his own hands to save Pandora. This child went out of his way to save Xenophilius from throwing his life away. This child resisted fifty Veela at once. This child brought the French Ministry to its knees. This child has brought together the most powerful people in the country." Ron then stepped into Sirius' face. "This child survived the Dark Lord himself."

Sirius went mute, his ever-widening eyes fixed on Ron's.

"You are all so fucking pathetic," Ron whispered dangerously. "Look at yourself, Sirius… Look at your behaviour over the last two years. You showed up at the Gala drunk, and then you lost the Boy-Who-Lived in a room full of Death-Eaters. Do you know who kept watch over your godson while you were fucking Clementine Zabini? Me! I made sure that he was safe from harm, despite him treating me like dirt at the time. Time and time again, I protect you and yours, but what do you do? You avoid your responsibilities like they'll give you the Dragon Pox. You threw away the chance to be a Governor of Hogwarts, a place where your endangered godson studies. You then proceeded to ignore the Macmillans out of some misplaced spite, almost losing their goodwill as a result. You even threw away the chance to be a part of the Wizengamot, a position of power that would let you better protect Harry from his enemies. Tell me something, Sirius Black… Would you even be here right now, helping these poor people, if I hadn't twisted your arm?"

Sirius said nothing, but when he averted his gaze, Ron felt the urge to slap the man across his face. Selfish bastard.

"Don't ever threaten me again," Ron warned. "If you don't want to support me, then you are welcome to leave. I will forget about you in the next ten seconds, I promise you."

Ron then took a step back, his cold eyes looking Sirius over.

"Get back to work, Lord Black," Ron ordered. "These people need help, and getting into my face accomplishes nothing."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but when no words came out, he walked away with a shaken expression. Ron watched quietly as Sirius started handing out bowls of stew again, and once he was sure that Sirius would stay on task, he made his way towards Lady Longbottom and Lady Fawley.

The witches were speaking to a grieving man, and from what Ron could make out, the man had lost his only son in the explosions. Ron decided not to interrupt them, it was more important for this man to let out his grief in peace. I'll just come back later.

"Ron," Lord Greengrass patted Ron's shoulder from behind, and Ron immediately felt a pang of panic. Watch your back, Ron! FUCKING IDIOT! Do you want to get beheaded?! "Sorry… Molly mentioned that you were… Never mind. I'm sorry."

"No… No, it's okay," Ron drew in a deep breath; the Calming Draught was already doing its work. "I'm surprised to see you here, my Lord. I expected you to send aid, not show up and do the grunt work yourself."

"Mary can be… forceful," Lord Greengrass shot a quick look at his wife; she was currently handing out toys to the confused and scared children. "Though truth be told, no sane person could stand here and not feel pity for these people."

"Really?" Ron looked around. "There are a lot of people just passing by, and they don't look like they have much pity in them."

"If they stopped and spoke with these people, their opinions would change," Lord Greengrass said, and Ron listened intently. "You will find that all wizards have the same failings, Ron. We are all inherently arrogant and blind to the suffering of others. Just look at our long and bloody history, if you need proof." Even Dumbledore imagined himself a conqueror in his youth. And as for me… Well, there are few people out there that are as rotten as me.

"Can't say that I disagree with that," Ron said. "The Fae, the Goblins, the Centaurs, the Merpeople, and even our own… Wizards always find a way to betray and subjugate those who are different." Maybe that's just our nature? Maybe the Dark Lord understands this, and has fully accepted it?

Ron looked around once again, and he felt a familiar rage well up inside his chest. The only thing that the Dark Lord understood was fear, and Ron would give him a taste of his own medicine very soon. We can be better than our history. The Headmaster, Professor Snape, even Lord Greengrass… They prove that we can be better, whereas the Dark Lord was too weak to understand this. That's why he'll lose in the end… He is the past, whereas my allies are the future.

"Power corrupts even the best of us, and we wizards can bend reality to our will at any given moment," Lord Greengrass said, and then he eyed Ron critically. Don't zone him out, Ron. He's too clever to trick with a fake smile. "Come to the Manor tomorrow, Ron. I would like to spend some time with you. Alone." Alone, eh?

"If you're planning to waste my day with some sort of pointless lecture, I'm going to stop you right here," Ron said blandly, and Lord Greengrass just stared at him. "I'm very busy right now, my Lord, and I can't afford to slow down."

"I want to show you my ledgers," Lord Greengrass said, and Ron was a little taken aback. Really?

"You want to show me your ledgers?" Ron asked. "Why? Isn't that information very personal, my Lord?"

"You are actively shaping the future of this country," Lord Greengrass said. "Your parents might not see it, but I can't help but see it. This alliance of yours could potentially change the power structure of Magical Britain, maybe even the power structure of our neighbouring countries. I want to make sure that the Greengrass Family isn't left wanting."

"Fair enough," Ron said, realizing that Lord Greengrass had something important to show him. "I will drop by in the afternoon."

"Good," Lord Greengrass said, shooting a quick look at Mary. "I should get back to work before she catches me slacking off."

"You almost sound afraid of her," Ron couldn't help but point out.

"Any wizard who loves his witch has reason to fear her anger," Lord Greengrass spoke from experience. "Never forget that, Ron." Noted.

Lord Greengrass went back to his wife's side, while Ron decided to try and speak with Lady Longbottom and Lady Fawley once again. They were now working with Pandora and Molly; the four witches were applying potion-soaked bandages on the wounded. Why are the injured not at St. Mungo's? I doubt that the Healers there would turn away the needy.

As Ron approached them, he realized that Lord Fawley was nowhere to be seen. Is he still overseas? Didn't Lady Fawley tell me that he'd be back in time to show me around the Werewolf Sanctuary?

"Hello," Ron greeted Lady Fawley, and she shot a quick look back.

"Help me with this, Ronald," Lady Fawley said, and Ron quickly moved over to her side. "I need you to hold her cut together so I can apply the bandage."

"Why not just use your wand to heal her?" Ron asked, though he did as he was told.

The woman they were tending to was rather old, and judging by her lethargic demeanour, she was currently under the influence of a potion. Probably something to help her with the pain. The long cut on her left thigh was clearly infected, and it smelled rancid. This woman didn't need a tight bandage; she needed a room within St. Mungo's.

"She was hit with a Curse, and no one tended her injury in time," Lady Fawley replied, wrapping the bandage around the cut. "It's become infected, so we need to act as quickly as possible. Hopefully, she won't lose her leg…"

"Why are the injured not at St. Mungo's?" Ron asked, keeping pressure on the wound.

"Unfortunately, many of them are afraid of persecution," Lady Fawley sighed out, looking a decade older. "Knockturn Alley is… was… a dark place, Ronald. A lot of these people are afraid of being punished for their misdeeds, and as such, they are staying away from any place that might ask questions. We tried to explain how irrational their fears were, but no one here trusts us."

"After what their own Ministry did to them, I can't exactly blame them for being afraid of persecution," Ron said, pulling his bloodied hands back.

"Here," Lady Fawley handed him her personal handkerchief.

"Thank you," Ron said as he wiped the blood and pus from his hands. Marty will need to wash my glove again. "I don't see your husband here, Lady Fawley… Is there any particular reason behind that?"

"He is at the Werewolf Sanctuary," Lady Fawley replied, wiping the sweat from her brow. "I told him everything, Ronald… Everything."

"And?" Ron asked.

"And he wishes to speak to you in person," Lady Fawley replied. "You can floo over to the Werewolf Sanctuary from The Leaky Cauldron. The property is located in Kent, near Waltham."

"What's the name of this property?" Ron asked.

"My husband has named it Prosperity Farm," Lady Fawley replied. Really? A bit on the nose, don't you think? "There's a reason why I named all of our children."

"Prosperity Farm in Kent, near Waltham," Ron said as he stood up, memorizing the location.

"I look forward to having dinner with you again, Ronald," Lady Fawley stood up. "Now, if you will excuse me, there are others who need their injuries tended."

"Thank you for everything that you're doing here," Ron bid her farewell.

Once she was gone, Ron began making his way towards his mothers. He had expected them to start helping out once they were here, after all, they were kind and generous souls, but it was a true shame that he had to force them to look at the world as he saw it for them to take action. A small part of Ron hated how complacent the adults in his life were, but a bigger part of him now looked to changing their attitudes rather than complaining about it.

It would be difficult, and he would need to be a little cruel occasionally, but since he no longer cared for their opinions of him, he knew that he would succeed. And if they still don't want to change after I've tried my best; I'll just walk away from them. They let the world go to shit, and they can burn alongside it for all I care.

"Mum," Ron stopped behind his mother; she was handing a hot bowl of beef stew to an old man. "It's time for us to be on our way."

Molly slowly looked back at him, her haggard appearance made little to no impact on him. Stop crying like a little girl, we have work to do.

"Look at these people, Ron…" Molly muttered in disbelief. "There are little children here… Some of them lost their parents, and they have nowhere left to go." Damn the Dark Lord to hell… That fucking cunt!

"I know," Ron said, realizing that her tears were now being shed for the poor souls of Knockturn Alley. "My allies and I will watch over them, and in time, we will give them new homes. I won't rest until the work is done."

Molly slowly looked around herself, but she didn't say anything in response. Ron gestured her to follow him, and together, they made their way towards Pandora.

"Pandora, it's time to go," Ron said, noticing that her left hand was resting on her lower back. Eh, she can keep going. I'll take her back if she collapses, but other than that, she's not going anywhere without my say so.

Pandora let out a tired sigh, but she couldn't bring herself to argue.

Friday 5th February, 1994 (Prosperity Farm – Afternoon)

Ron stepped through the fireplace, and he found himself standing within a construction site.

The incomplete building looked a lot like a mess hall, one that could house the entire student body of Hogwarts with ease. Ron was rather blown away, and he found himself smiling a little despite the Calming Draught. If this is where they'll eat, then just imagine how amazing the rest of the property is. Once they come here, they'll never want to leave.

Ron spotted Lord Fawley speaking to an old elf and a gruff wizard at the end of the mess hall, and without wasting a second; Ron began making his way past the busy workers. His mothers followed at his heel, no doubt looking around in awe, they had both resigned to Ron's will.

"Ronald?" Lord Fawley stopped to look in his direction. "You're here, my boy!"

"Lord Fawley," Ron put on a smile. "It's good to see you again."

"Ronald, this is Thomas Vandenberg," Lord Fawley gestured towards the gruff wizard. "And this here is Jadpey."

"Pleasure to meet you both," Ron shook Thomas' hand before offering his hand to Jadpey.

The old Elf gave him a curious look, while Thomas and Lord Fawley exchanged slow looks. What? I can't shake an Elf's hand? Jadpey slowly reached across and gave Ron a limp handshake, a slightly bewildered smile crossing his wrinkly face.

"Um… Jadpey is in charge of the farm and its upkeep," Lord Fawley recovered. "While Thomas is in charge of construction and logistics. I've worked with them before, and they are both very qualified."

"Judging from what I'm seeing, I believe you," Ron looked around with a pleasant smile. "This place could put the Great Hall of Hogwarts to shame."

"It might not have Hogwarts' splendour, but it can fit a lot more people," Lord Fawley chuckled. He is oddly chipper for someone who knows that the Dark Lord has returned. Maybe he's keeping up appearances? "Oh, how rude of me… I see that you've brought guests, Ronald."

"This is my mother, Molly Weasley," Ron introduced her, and she managed to give them a weak smile.

Lord Fawley looked Molly and Pandora over, but he was too polite to say anything about their haggard appearances and distant stares.

"And this is Pandora Lovegood," Ron added casually. "She's my… neighbour." I hope that stings.

"Are you two all right?" Thomas asked, shooting a quick glance at Pandora's belly.

"We just came from Diagon Alley," Ron answered for them. "The streets are filled with the homeless and the injured… Things are looking very bleak for many of them."

"Oh," Thomas nodded. "Yes, I've heard that the Ministry doesn't have the resources to help any of them. Truly dreadful business…" The Ministry wants you to believe that they can't help these people, but I assure you, they can. If they stop caring about their next promotion, and actually look around at the misery they cause, they might even become a decent government.

"Ronald here has come up with a plan for them as well," Lord Fawley said. "Don't worry, my Ladies, we will give them food and shelter while the Ministry twiddles its thumbs. I plan to join my wife, who is already there, after my work here is done for the day."

"Thank you, Lord Fawley," Ron felt a little calmer. "I really do appreciate your efforts." At least someone else cares. I don't have the money or influence to change a country, but people like Lord Fawley do. Once I'm gone, they'll build a better world for everyone.

"No need to be so formal, my boy," Lord Fawley chuckled. "Come, let me show you three around." Lord Fawley then looked to Thomas and Jadpey. "Go on with your duties, and report back to me before I leave."

"Yes, Sir," Thomas gave a nod.

"Jadpey will complete the work, Lord Fawley," Jadpey gave a bow, and then he cracked out of the mess hall. Elf Apparition… I'll need to ward this place against it once everything is ready. I'll also hire security, just in case the Dark Lord sets his eyes on this place. Lord Greengrass can help me with that, I'm sure.

"Right this way," Lord Fawley gestured them to follow him.

"How long until this farm is operational?" Ron asked, shooting a quick look back at his quiet mothers.

"Oh, I'd say that by the end of the week, we'll be fully ready to host the Werewolves," Lord Fawley replied, his pride more than evident.

"Really?" Ron couldn't help but smile.

"I've been working around the clock, Ronald," Lord Fawley assured him. "I've hired the Elf staff for cooking and cleaning purposes, I've hired Thomas' company to work overtime, and I've established deals with merchants all over England to provide food and clothing. By the time Remus' friends show up, this farm will be more than ready to host them."

"Remus' friends?" Ron asked, and Lord Fawley shot him a quick smile. "You've been in contact with him?"

"He comes here every other day," Lord Fawley explained. "He's been tremendously helpful with the… facilities… required to keep the Werewolves in check during their transformations. Without his guidance, we'd still be in the planning phase."

"So you know about his condition?" Ron asked; he planned to send Remus a gift basket for this. He came through for his people, and I can't help but respect him even more for it.

"I won't lie… As a parent, I was concerned for my son's safety," Lord Fawley started. "So I sent John a letter, one without any explicit details, and I asked about his opinion on all the Professors of Hogwarts. Imagine my surprise when he listed Remus as his personal favourite."

"He is a great teacher," Ron said. "Pretty much everyone loves his classes, and the fact that he actually teaches us useful Magic without making it boring has made him a favourite." Such a talented wizard, and yet, he can't even get a job in this country… How fucking unjust is that?

"He seems… overqualified… for his position, which really shames me," Lord Fawley said, and Ron gave him a curious look.

"Shames you?"

"I wholeheartedly believed that Werewolves were undeserving of respect and rights…" Lord Fawley all but whispered, and then he suddenly patted Ron's back. "But you've opened my eyes, my boy! We will take the fight to the Wizengamot itself if we have to! Nothing will stop us from doing what's right!" Such gusto. I like that.

Ron could hear his mothers whispering to each other, and from what he could make out, they were discussing Lord Fawley's change in opinion regarding Werewolves. Let them think on this, Ron. Let them see that you actually make a positive change in this world, while they sit around on their arses and preach morality like they're the only ones who understand it. Let them see how fucking useless they are, and then give them a push in the right direction. If they don't change after that, then you can leave them behind without feeling guilty.

As they stepped out of the mess hall, Ron was ripped out of his thoughts due to the beautiful landscape before him. Lord Fawley grinned proudly, savouring Ron's reaction to Prosperity Farm's size and magnificence. Fucking hell… Can I move here as well?!

"This entire property is yours?" Ron muttered, looking hard to find where the 'farm' ended.

To call it a farm was rather unfair, this place was a stunning town hidden by blossoming flowers and lush trees. There were long fields of lavenders snaking throughout the property, encircling cosy cottages that were eagerly awaiting families to fill them. Down the hill was a large, man-made lake; its glittering blue waters were inviting Ron to go for a swim.

He was lost for words, as were his mothers.

"Just over two thousand acres!" Lord Fawley laughed, patting Ron's back again. "I told you that this was one of my biggest properties, didn't I?!"

"It's perfect," a chuckle escaped Ron's lips, but before he could feel any semblance of real joy, the Calming Draught brought him back to his sense. Keep your composure, Ron.

He drew in a deep breath, fixed his suit back into place, and then he gave Lord Fawley a pleasant smile.

"This place is going to change a lot of lives for the better, my Lord," Ron said, and Lord Fawley gave him a firm nod. "Together, we'll finally give the Werewolves of Europe a place to call home. A place where they can feel safe and wanted, something that a lot of people just take for granted."

"My thoughts exactly, my boy!" Lord Fawley agreed. "Thanks to the generous donations of our allies, we still have plenty left over for further expansions. I was thinking of buying the nearby properties as well when the time is right, and we could potentially turn this place into the world's first Werewolf settlement. I imagine that they'll all come from around the world just to live here, and in time, this place can go from a charity project to becoming a town with its own trade and commerce."

"What of the Ministry?" Pandora finally spoke up; she and Molly were still looking around in awe. "You can't hope to create a Magical settlement without their permission, and as it stands, every Ministry in the world despises the Werewolves."

"Lord Greengrass already provided me with a workaround," Lord Fawley replied. Lord Greengrass? "He's an odd fellow, one who seems to despise the idea of this place, and yet, he has jumped into this project with both feet." He's loyal to his family, even if he disagrees with their views.

"He wants this place to work for my sake," Ron said, and Lord Fawley nodded in understanding. "That's what an actual parent does, right? They help, not hinder. Even if they don't agree with their children, they always stand by them."

"Of course…" Lord Fawley said slowly, clearly confused by Ron's cryptic words.

Pandora and Molly shrunk a little, making sure to keep their eyes fixed on the landscape before them.

"What's this work around?" Ron asked, going back to the topic at hand.

"Well, technically speaking, this property still belongs to me," Lord Fawley started. "This entire land is under my name, and as such, I can do whatever I please with it. Instead of calling this place a Werewolf settlement, we'll stick to calling it a 'farm'."

"The Ministry can't tell you to vacate the Werewolves?" Ron asked.

"Who I host on my land is my business, not the Ministry's," Lord Fawley smirked. "If they try to force the Werewolves out, then they'll be violating my rights as well."

"And being a powerful Pure-Blood gives you immunity from that," Ron realized. Clever.

"The Ministry is only as powerful as we Pure-Bloods allow it to be," Lord Fawley said. "Lord Greengrass told me that, and I quite agree with him. Without our constant funding and charitable works, this country would be overcome with vagabonds and poverty. The Ministry needs us, and so it would never dare persecute any one of us." That's how the Death-Eaters escaped justice the first time around… Well, if you can't beat them, then join them. Figuratively, of course.

"And what about me?" Ron asked. "I'm a poor Blood-Traitor, and the Weasley name carries no weight whatsoever."

Molly tensed at that, shooting Ron a disapproving look. What the fuck are you staring at? It's not like I'm lying, our name is the equivalent of dirt thanks to people like your husband. Ron's cold gaze sealed her mouth shut before she could start running it, and she quietly returned to staring at the property.

"You have brought together some of the most powerful people in this country, Ronald," Lord Fawley said. "As far as I'm concerned, you're one of us now. We will stand behind you, I promise." That's what the French said, and then they stabbed me in the back. I think I'll look out for myself, thank you very much.

"I appreciate that," Ron said instead. "Now, tell me more about the property, please."

"Come over here," Lord Fawley said as he walked further up. "See those three large buildings by the lake? Away from the cottages?"

"Yes," Ron replied, eyeing the out-of-place structures.

"Each of them has one hundred and twenty 'safe rooms'," Lord Fawley started. "Each room is fitted with padded bindings, walls with the Softening Charm placed upon them, and each room can house five Werewolves at once. During the full moon, every Werewolf will be locked inside. Don't worry, they won't be able to hurt themselves, and instead of being tied to a tree, they'll be tied down with comfortable, but unbreakable, bindings. However, I doubt that they'll need to be so rudely handled given that we've bought six crates full of the Wolfsbane Potion. That happened to be one of our biggest expenditures, by the way. It's ridiculous how expensive that potion is, and from what I've learned, it's overly expensive due to the Ministries' need to subjugate the Werewolf population. Starting from now, we'll just buy the ingredients, and Jadpey's team will brew the potions. It'll save us a lot of money in the long run, and we won't run the risk of running out."

Lord Fawley then pointed to the cottages beyond the lavender fields.

"That's where they'll stay," Lord Fawley said. "We don't really know how many Werewolves are coming, so new cottages might need to be constructed. I've already made sure to save up enough to construct a dozen more, just in case, but I'm confident that Remus has provided us with the right number."

Lord Fawley then directed Ron's attention to an unfinished building, one that had a massive playground right in front of it.

"That will serve as a school for the children," Lord Fawley said. "We can hire tutors once we get permission from the parents, I imagine that they won't be very trusting of us at the start."

"The school is important," Ron said. "I'll speak with their leaders, and convince them to give us their permission. Even if the Magical World doesn't want them, we can still give them the opportunity to find work in the Muggle World."

"Then I will leave that to you," Lord Fawley agreed. "Now, what else? Ah! That's right, look over there! See those empty farm beds? My wife figured that some of the Werewolves would enjoy growing their own produce to consume and sell, so we left a hefty amount of land for that."

Lord Fawley smiled proudly, his eyes scanning the entire property before resting on Ron.

"It's not much yet, but with time and effort, we will make this place a safe haven for all Werewolves," Lord Fawley said, and Ron put his hand forward.

"Together," Ron smiled genuinely, and Lord Fawley gave him a firm handshake.

"Together."

One Hour Later

Lord Fawley and Ron had left Molly and Pandora near the mess hall, both witches were tired from their day and Ron didn't feel the need to push them any further. They had learned their lesson; he could see it in their behaviour. Neither of them would get in his way anymore, and that was more than enough for Ron.

As for the property itself…

This place was bloody brilliant, and he couldn't wait to share it with the Werewolves. They deserved to call a place like this their home, especially the young ones who had their lives ruined by the Werewolf Curse and those who feared it.

Ron was willing to protect this safe haven with his life, and since the Dark Lord was known to recruit Werewolves via intimidation and false promises, Ron needed to combat these tactics head on.

Security was the biggest issue right now; this place needed trained wands to keep the peace and to fight off anyone who tried to invade it. Lord Greengrass, thankfully, knew more than enough shady people, and through him, Ron would get in contact with professional wands for hire. He would employ them out of his own pocket, and make sure that they answered only to him. They would protect the Werewolves, and kill anyone who threatened their safety.

As for the Dark Lord's false promises, Ron planned to combat that with being genuinely caring and generous. He would not force the Werewolves to accept his help, nor would he expect anything from them in return for his work. He would give them paradise, and then watch over them while they became accustomed to a vastly different lifestyle from the painful one they had always known. Ron would combat false promises with actual promises, and if that wasn't good enough for some, then they were welcome to leave.

"My boy, are you all right?" Lord Fawley asked as they made their way towards the mess hall. "You are glowering quite openly… Is something not up to your standard?"

"Oh, no," Ron said quickly. "My Lord, this place is beautiful, and I love every bit of it."

"They don't call Kent the 'Garden of England' for nothing," Lord Fawley chuckled; sounding more relaxed. "May I ask what's on your mind? You have been acting very strange all day."

"Strange?" Ron asked.

"Quiet, reserved, maybe even a little angry," Lord Fawley replied. I'm not angry… I'm murderous. "Your mother and 'neighbour' also seem bothered. Has something happened?"

"Well, the Dark Lord has returned," Ron replied, and Lord Fawley stopped walking. "Did your wife not tell you?"

"She… She did," Lord Fawley drew in a sharp breath. "She also told me that you've faced him… Is it true?"

Ron pulled back his left sleeve, showing the lanky wizard his scarred flesh. Lord Fawley just stared at the serpentine scars for a few silent moments, and then he shot Ron a pitiful look.

"Poor boy… My wife warned me, but I had hoped that she was mistaken," Lord Fawley finally spoke. Not the reaction I was expecting. "He did that to your arm?" My bunkmate did that to my entire body, but I rather enjoy painting the Dark Lord as a despicable cunt. Not that he isn't one already, of course.

"He did that to my entire body," Ron raised his gloved hand. "He left me mangled and broken, and it took me a month to wake up from his torture."

"Your coma…" Lord Fawley seemed to be connecting the dots. "Gods… This happened at the end of your first year? Right?"

"Yes," Ron replied, covering up his left forearm.

"But there are rumours that contradict this," Lord Fawley said. "I've heard that you were conducting some Dark experiment, and that it backfired on you."

"A tale spun by Albus Dumbledore," Ron nearly frowned. "As for why he did it, he didn't want to cause a mass panic within the Wizarding World."

"Or, he didn't want to be seen as incompetent enough to let the Dark Lord into Hogwarts," Lord Fawley stated.

"The Headmaster was playing a dangerous game," Ron started. "But let's not forget that his warning were ignored by everyone. What happened to me… That's not on the Headmaster; it's on the Dark Lord. The Headmaster is a good man, but people often forget that he's not an all-knowing one."

"It does not bother you that he made you look like a fool to save his own hide?" Lord Fawley asked, and Ron couldn't help but wonder if Lord Fawley was biased against Dumbledore.

"It used to, but I've learned to look at the bigger picture," Ron replied. "The Headmaster had to choose between me and the general public… I would make the same choice if I were in his shoes."

Lord Fawley gave a slow nod.

"You respect him," Lord Fawley noted.

"I do, but unlike most, I don't blindly follow him either," Ron said. "I look at a person's actions before I judge them, and from what I've seen so far, Albus Dumbledore is a man with far too much responsibility on his shoulders. The entire world has looked to him for guidance in its darkest moments, but somewhere along the way, they stopped caring about his wellbeing. Everyone just expects him to be perfect, and I know how difficult it is to live up to that standard." He might not be perfect, but he's still the best hope we have. I just wish that he had listened to me when I warned him of the Loyalists, just as I always listened to him. Clearly, only I thought that we were friends, and not just Professor and student.

"Will he accept my family into the Order?" Lord Fawley asked. "I can't help but wonder why he hasn't approached us yet. We supported the Order and the Ministry during the Great War, and it cost me my parents. Does he not trust the Fawley Family, despite what we have lost?" Ah, that's why he's biased against the old man. Honestly, he has every reason to be.

"I can't answer that," Ron admitted. "I don't know what goes on in his head. However, he will accept you into the Order. Experience has made him… untrusting… but he would never close the door on anyone. When he returns, I will speak to him on your behalf. I promise."

"And he would listen to you?" Lord Fawley asked. "Why?"

"Like me, the Headmaster respects merit above all else," Ron replied. "I have consistently shown him that I care for others, even when the entire world tells me that I'm wrong. I like to think that he admires my more idealistic side." He certainly relies on my more pragmatic side.

"It's very important to me that my family is kept safe, Ronald," Lord Fawley said. "You told my wife that you'd watch over John in Slytherin, but I still need you to promise me that you will not forget about him. I know you have a lot of responsibilities and plans, but since I can't watch over him in Hogwarts, I must ask you for help."

"John is my friend, and I will not abandon him," Ron promised. "I swear it on my Magic, Lord Fawley, I will protect your son to the best of my ability."

Lord Fawley gave Ron a soft smile, and then he put his hand forward.

"My name is Oscar, and my wife's name is Enid," Lord Fawley said, and Ron gave a nod before shaking the man's hand. "We are allies, Ronald, and we will protect each other. I will treat your family as my own if you extend the same honour to mine."

"I will protect your family as if they were my own, my Lord," Ron agreed.

Friday 5th February, 1994 (The Burrow – Late Afternoon)

With his errands finished, Ron entered The Burrow with a sense of accomplishment. The Werewolf Sanctuary would be ready soon, and with a bit of advertising, a lot of Werewolves would have safety and security in their lives for the first time. But the work has only just begun. I will set my gaze upon Knockturn Alley's victims, and as I help them, I will bring the Ministry down a peg. I have to find a way to weaken the Dark Lord's hold on this country, and buy enough time for the Headmaster to return.

"I will be going home, Molly…" Pandora said, giving Ron a sorry look. Save it, I've had enough of your drama.

"Not yet," Ron said, and Molly let out a shaky breath. "Mum, go fetch my wand from your room. I want to return it to Pandora."

"What?!" Pandora looked devastated. "Ron… No…"

"Ron, please…" Molly croaked. "Please… We understand-"

"Go get the wand!" Ron barked, causing them both to flinch.

Molly hurried out of the room, while Pandora gave Ron a pleading look.

"Ron, please… I bought it for you," Pandora tried.

"Really?" Ron asked. "You know what, Pandora? Of all the people who have hurt me, you are by far the worst."

"I… am…?" Pandora swallowed thickly. "Why…?"

"When I was younger, I used to dream about being your actual son," Ron went on, deciding to let out the poison festering in his heart. "It's why I came over for dinner every second day… Every time I was at the Rookery, I felt truly wanted and loved. That meant the world to me, and I know that you knew it too." Ron then took a step forward. "When I was dying in that chamber, after the Dark Lord was done with me, I thought of you. Only you."

Pandora averted her gaze, letting out a meek sob.

"I thought about how hurt you would be if I died in that place," Ron admitted. "But now, if I was dying because of any reason, I would not think that, because let's be honest, you don't really love me anymore. When you look at me, you always have that reserved look in your eye. We don't banter anymore, we don't paint together anymore, and we don't make stupid jokes that only we understand anymore. Instead, you constantly seek to lecture me and point out my faults, just like the family I never fit into."

"I don't know when it happened," Ron continued. "But somewhere along the way, you let other people tell you that I'm no longer a good person, and in some ways, I'm not… In some ways, I am a truly horrible piece of shit. And yet, I still work myself to the bone for other people. Honestly, tell me what I get from this Werewolf Sanctuary? What do I get from helping Priscilla and her friends? What do I get from convincing the most powerful people in this country to help the poor souls of Knockturn Alley? Go on, speak."

"Not… Nothing…" Pandora managed, wiping her eyes like a scolded child.

"Nothing," Ron repeated. "I'll be dead in a few years, so I don't have anything to gain. There is no prize waiting for me, and once I'm gone, people will forget that I even existed. That's just how this shitty world works. People come in, they make their choices and pretend like those choices matter, and then they die. The end."

Ron drew in a deep breath, feeling nothing but hollowness.

"Do you want to know why I do the things I do?" Ron asked, and she gave a shaky nod. "It's the same reason why I chose to save your life."

"What?" Pandora looked up, her eyes bloodshot from crying.

"I do these things because it's the right thing to do," Ron said firmly. "Before I burst into your lab to save you, I stood outside the door and listened. I've never told you this, but I feel like you need to hear it… I waited outside your door, and I listened to you choking on your own blood."

Pandora lost the colour in her face, though her eyes never left Ron's.

"I wanted to turn around and go home," Ron went on. "I was scared shitless, and I didn't want to see you die in front of me. I even wished that Xeno were there instead of me…"

Pandora sniffled and averted her gaze again.

"But in the end, I pushed myself through that door and destroyed my hands to protect you from your own arrogance and stupidity. I suffered so that Luna and Xeno wouldn't have to." Ron then stepped right into her face. "I don't hesitate anymore. I don't make excuses anymore. I don't apologize anymore. And I don't fucking care anymore. You don't love me, fine… You can't bring yourself to treat me with respect, fine… I will not force you into caring for me. I won't even be angry with you anymore."

Ron then stepped away, looking Pandora over with a look so cold that it would freeze hell over.

"Keep ignoring my letters," Ron said, and Pandora quickly looked up with a startled look. "What? You think I haven't noticed? Xeno still writes to me, but you don't. I send letters, but I rarely get a response. At first, I thought that it was because of your pregnancy, but when I came down for Christmas, I realized that you had started listening to my parents' drivel. I said nothing about it at the time… I was torn apart, but I didn't say anything. I was too busy trying to deal with the French, and in the end, out of respect for your pregnancy, I didn't bring it up at all."

"I can't… recognize you anymore…" Pandora coughed out. This again?

"That's because you stopped looking, and started listening to people who have always ignored me," Ron said bluntly. "I have made it my life's mission to help those who are helpless, even though I'm slowly dying myself… I didn't change all that much, Pandora. I'm still throwing myself into the fire to pull other people out of it. The only difference between now and then is that I don't hesitate anymore. I do what must be done, and I don't second-guess myself afterwards. It's you who has changed… The Pandora I knew wouldn't tell my mother about my likes and dislikes, she would come to me and tell me that my mother is trying to take the easy way out. Instead of just handing over the answers, the Pandora I knew would urge my mother to put in some actual effort for a change."

Molly returned at that, Ron's wand held tightly in her hands.

"Ron, don't do this…" Molly begged. "Wands are sacred, and this one chose you."

"Give it here," Ron put his gloved hand forward, keeping his eyes on Pandora. "Now!"

Molly shot Pandora a quick look, and then she slowly placed Ron's wand in his palm. Ron tried to close his hand around it, but the wounds on his forearm burned painfully, causing him to drop it. Fuck this hand! I ought to cut it off and throw it away! Ron let out a pained grunt as he kneeled down and picked up his wand with his left hand, ignoring the odd looks he was getting.

"Here," Ron offered his wand to Pandora, feeling its warmth run throughout his left arm. "Take it, and leave me alone."

Pandora shook her head, refusing to take the wand from him.

"Why not?" Ron asked. "You've already stopped supporting me, so why not take this wand back as well? It's all right… I won't hold this against you. I already told you that I don't care anymore."

"It chose you…" Pandora stepped back. "I can't, Ron… I could never…"

"Do you remember my wand's flexibility?" Ron asked, and Pandora blinked at him. "Come on, you know the answer, Pandora."

"Unyielding…" Pandora all but whispered, her eyes widening a little.

"Unyielding," Ron snarled, glaring right through her. "I don't bend, and I don't break! The next time any of you try to get in my way, I'll go right through you! Now, get out of my house, and don't come back until I've returned to Hogwarts! I don't want to see your face near me again!"

Pandora just stood there, frozen in time, but eventually, she quietly prepared the floo and drifted through the fireplace. Ron waited until she was gone, and once he was alone with his mother, he turned to face her.

"Don't ever preach right or wrong to me again," Ron warned. "You live in a cocoon of self-indulgence and selfishness, and if you ever dare to judge me again, I'll pack my things and leave for good. I don't need you, because let's face it, you have never once shown me that you want me. I'm done chasing after you, and you have been warned. Don't ever get in my way again."

Friday 5th February, 1994 (The Burrow – Nearly Dinner)

"I can't even hold my wand," Ron frowned down at his right hand. "Every time I try to close my hand around it, my forearm feels like its on fire."

"Let me see the wounds again," Ravenclaw Ron said, and Ron pulled back his right sleeve.

Ravenclaw Ron walked over and inspected the four deep incisions on Ron's forearm; they still looked as fresh as they had when he had first dug his claws into his own arm.

"They're not bleeding…" Ravenclaw Ron clicked his tongue, his brow furrowed. "But they look like you just inflicted them on yourself. This is… bizarre… even for me."

"They won't stop hurting," Ron said, noticing that his potion was starting to wear off. I need another dose, or I'll start spiralling again.

"You're a fucking idiot," Ravenclaw Ron said bluntly.

"Yes, that has already been established," Ron rolled his eyes. "Do you know how to fix this? It's clearly Entity related tripe, and I don't know what to do about it."

"I already told you that I don't know anything about your transformation," Ravenclaw Ron said. "Maybe some Pain-Relief Potion might do the trick?"

"More potions…" Ron sighed out.

"Well, if you're going to act like an idiot, then you need to pay the price as well," Ravenclaw Ron stepped back, and then he looked towards The Burrow. "I think dad is home."

"More drama," Ron covered up his forearm. "Ignore that for now, tell me more about Progenitor Magic."

"It's out-dated, and most of the time, it's useless," Ravenclaw Ron shrugged. "With the creation of wands, and the large influx of Spells that came along with it, people quickly forgot about Progenitor Magic. It's a difficult branch of Magic, and even the most basic Spells take a lot of training to master. I never took to it because of the effort it would take to hone my body to act as a conduit, but you've been doing quite well in that department."

"You don't have any tips to share?" Ron asked. Why am I even letting you run around, then? Oh, yeah… The Old God needs to stay in its cage.

"I think you need to push yourself harder," Ravenclaw Ron said, and Ron gave him a dull look. "Just hear me out before you start sassing me, all right? Progenitor Magic doesn't just require a lot of willpower; it also requires imagination and creative thinking. The next time you cast 'Incendio', try to focus on the Magic running throughout your body. Try to direct that Magic away from your hands-"

"How do I direct my Magic?" Ron asked.

"It's your Magic, Ronnie," Ravenclaw Ron replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Dumbledore showed you how to feel Magic, didn't he? Apply that to yourself, and once you can feel it, command it like you command any of your muscles to move." Ravenclaw Ron then tapped his own head. "A wizard's mind is his strongest weapon, and those who can master themselves can easily master Magic."

Ron gave a slow nod; Madam Roberts had made some very similar points in her many lectures. She told me that my Magical Core was just like any other muscle, and that the more I trained it, the more powerful it would become.

"I want to try and feel my own Magic," Ron said.

"Are you sure?" Ravenclaw Ron asked. "You just spent three hours doing your circuit training and practising your Wandless Magic. Pushing yourself too much will only hurt you in the long run."

"Let me just try my hand at it, and then I'll stop," Ron said, he knew just how exhausted he already was.

"Close your eyes," Ravenclaw Ron instructed, and Ron did as he was told. "Take in a deep breath, and clear your mind of all distractions. Imagine that you are untethered to this world, and that the only thing you can feel is your own body."

Ron drew in a deep breath, and using his Occlumency training, he cleared his mind of all thoughts. He continued taking in deep breaths, and as his mind settled down, Ron tried to feel his own body without moving a muscle.

"Your Magical Core is a part of you," Ravenclaw Ron said gently. "Feel it, Ron. Feel the power that constantly courses through your body."

Ron could feel it already, though it didn't seem very powerful. It was like a faint heartbeat, just out of earshot. He continued his breathing, trying to focus on the faint heartbeat as much as possible. It began to grow louder and louder, and as Ron felt the outside world drift away, the heartbeat became thunderous and fierce.

His Magic felt raw, angry, cornered, and yet, Ron could also feel its need to protect him. To protect others. He felt safe in its fierce rage, and that feeling brought a soft smile to his face.

"The Muggles believe that the Universe has four fundamental forces of nature," Ravenclaw Ron whispered. "The Gravitational Force, the Electromagnetic Force, Weak Nuclear Force, and Strong Nuclear Force… However, there is a fifth force that Muggles have no idea about. Magic. This force is the most powerful of the five, as all other forces of nature must bend to it. Magic is sentient, Ron, and it choses only a select few to command it. The Spells we wizards cast are so much more than flashy lights and fireworks. We wizards bend the four fundamental forces of nature in order to warp the reality around us-"

"Oi! Ron! Dinner!" came Bill's voice, and Ron's concentration shattered into a million pieces.

The thunderous sound of his Magic vanished, and Ron felt terribly exposed as a result. Bloody hell… It's like someone threw a bucket of cold water on me.

"He doesn't seem pleased," Ravenclaw Ron said, and Ron shot a quick look back.

Bill was frowning at him, and before Ron could say anything back, Bill turned around and entered The Burrow. Mum must've told them about her day. Good. If they start something, I'll shut them down as well.

"Isn't it funny when insects try to get snarky?" Ravenclaw Ron smirked.

"They're a bunch of us self-righteous hypocrites, and they hate that I'm not one of them," Ron looked back to his past self. "But I don't really care at this point… Let them whinge and complain like always, I have a job to do before I can have my peace."

Ron then looked his past self over, a curious look flashing across his face.

"How do you know so much about Muggle stuff?" Ron asked.

"Muggle stuff, he says…" Ravenclaw Ron gave Ron a dull look. "The Entity taught me a lot about Creation, and although we have different names for these forces, every living being within the Multiverse obeys the same laws. It's us mortals that change, while Creation is always a constant." What the fuck is he on about?

"Yeah, I don't understand what you're saying," Ron admitted. "It all sounds very… unnecessary… to me."

"I suppose you're not wrong," Ravenclaw Ron said. "You don't have the time to become a scholar, especially given the state of things. Don't worry, I'll teach you what you need to know to become stronger, and after all of this is over, we might even get to sit down and debate about Creation."

"If you think I'm going to let you bore me in the afterlife, then you've got another reality check coming your way," Ron smirked.

"Who knows what the future holds," Ravenclaw Ron winked, and then he vanished for sight.

"Barmy bastard," Ron smiled a little.

Thirty Minutes Later

Dinner was an awkward affair…

Bill was constantly shooting disappointed looks in Ron's direction, Molly barely made a sound and kept her eyes on her dinner plate, and Arthur occasionally frowned at Ron whenever their eyes met.

Molly had told Arthur everything, and he had taken it just like Ron had predicted. He's riled up, but he's missed the point completely. I showed her the world I'm forced to live in, and that's what's shaken her so much. She's finally realizing how little she offers the world, all the while sitting on her pedestal of moral authority.

Ron finished his dinner, and with a wave of his hand, he sent the empty dinner plate floating towards the sink. I control my Magic better when I'm on the Calming Draught… I'll practise my Occlumency for a couple of hours before I go to sleep. Hopefully, with a bit more practise, I can't stop abusing the Calming Draught. Just have to remain focused and vigilant at all times, and make sure that I don't repeat my mistakes.

Ron got up and headed for the stairs, content to keep his silence and not start more drama, but just as he neared the stairs, his father finally spoke up.

"Enough, Ron," Arthur said, using his 'disappointed father' tone. "I will speak to Sebastian tomorrow, and we will put all of this behind us. You are not allowed to continue playing these games, do you understand? Start acting your age, and leave all of this ambition behind. Don't repeat the same mistakes that led to you getting a stomach ulcer at the age of thirteen. We've all been patient with you, but after what you did to your mother today, I've had enough. We didn't raise you to be this spiteful young man, so I can only believe that you learned this disrespectful attitude of yours from somewhere else. Enough is enough… I won't repeat myself after today. Put an end to it, or I will." Will you, worm?

Ron turned around with a bored look, why couldn't they just mind their own business? The weak telling the strong what to do… Fools like my father have left the world in this terrible state, and yet, I'm the bad guy in this narrative?

"That's the difference between us, dad," Ron said calmly. "When I fail at something, I get back up and try again. Even if it hurts like hell, I don't just roll over and give up. But you do… Because of this reason alone, the entirety of Wizarding Europe knows my name, while you're just some faceless paper-pusher."

"RON!" Bill snapped, shooting out of his chair. "Dad might not hit you, but I'll straighten you out if you keep acting like a bastard!"

Ron couldn't help but laugh at Bill's words, what sort of delusional fuck was he?

"You know why they sent you home during the raid, dad?" Ron looked back to his father, mildly enjoying the stunned look on the man's face. "It's because they see you as I do; incompetent and utterly forgettable. People were dying in the streets, and every Ministry Official worth a damn was out there trying to put an end to it, but where were you? Oh, that's right… You were sitting at home and complaining about your superiors 'locking you out'. Even now, you pretend like you're something bigger than you are, but we both know that if I wanted to, I could kick your arse up and down this shitty little shack. Don't act like we're equals… I will not be talked down to by a man who chooses to drink himself into a stupor every other night instead of training his body to protect his family."

Ron then began heading up the stairs.

"Judge me after you take a good look at yourself," Ron added. "In two years, I've accomplished more than you have in a lifetime. Look to bettering yourself, and stay out of my way."

With that, Ron made his way up to his room. It was clear to him that he wasn't going to find any peace in The Burrow, not while his 'family' were constantly pushing themselves into his affairs. Luckily, however, Ron had a perfectly designed room waiting for him at Greengrass Manor. The room Daphne designed for me as a surprise present.

He missed her terribly, even on the Calming Draught, but he knew that he couldn't go after her anymore. She deserved someone better than him, someone who wasn't haunted by Gods and Dark Lords. In this life, his only purpose was to sacrifice himself to end a war that the last generation had started. His duty was to combat prejudice in all of its forms, especially prejudice that resulted in the innocent being butchered.

He would aid every poor soul along the way, but he no longer wished for a life of his own.

It was out of his reach, and chasing after it meant that he was no longer focused on what truly mattered. What did Ravenclaw Ron say to me a while back? Magic gives and Magic takes, those are the rules. Fate gave me the chance to right the wrongs done by my past self, but in the process, she took away any hope of me being happy.

Ron entered his room and locked the door, and then with a wave of his wand, he Silenced the entire room. My Non-Verbal Magic is improving as well, but not quickly enough. I need to work harder.

"Marty," Ron called, and his Elf immediately cracked into the room.

"Master called Marty?" Marty smiled pleasantly, and Ron felt a little better because of his friend's kind smile.

"I need you to pack up my things," Ron said. "We're leaving for Greengrass Manor."

Twenty Minutes Later

Ron entered the large dining room, his trunk floating behind him. He had asked Marty to Apparate him straight to the Manor, mostly because he wanted to avoid his parents' tantrums.

"Ron?" Lord Greengrass looked away from his wife; they were practically clinging to each other.

Mary quickly unwrapped herself from Lord Greengrass' arm, putting on a pleasant smile and pretending like she wasn't using her fingers to feed him pudding.

"Sorry for the interruption," Ron stepped further into the room. "I need a place to stay, and I was hoping to use the room Daphne designed for me."

"What's happened, Ron?" Mary asked, concern marring her beauty. "Come here, love, tell us what's-"

Lord Greengrass silently gestured his wife to not ask any questions, and then he gave Ron a nod.

"The room was made for you, Ron, and you are always welcome to it," Lord Greengrass said.

"Thank you," Ron said, heading back out before he saw something that would leave lasting damage on his already damaged brain. "I'll see you both at breakfast." I'm pretty sure that I just ruined a lovely evening for Lord Greengrass.

Saturday 6th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Morning)

The water pressure of his shower was nothing short of amazing! Ron had spent the last thirty minutes relaxing under the hot water, thoroughly enjoying the privileges that came with his own personal bathroom.

Once he was done washing himself, he stepped out of the shower and made his way to the large marble sink. Products ranging from body lotions to a stylized shaving razor awaited him, and Ron took his time testing each product. In the end, he applied a mango-scented body lotion on himself, and used spearmint toothpaste to brush his teeth. Once that was done, he used a little 'coconut oil' hair gel to style his hair. Pansy would be proud.

"Enjoying yourself?" came Ravenclaw Ron's voice, and Ron looked at the mirror in order to spot his past self.

Ravenclaw Ron was leaning against a wall, a twisted smirk plastered on his face.

"You enjoy sneaking up on naked people?" Ron asked; going back to the products that Mary's Elves had brought in during the night.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Ravenclaw Ron shrugged. Fair point.

"Are you telling me that you have chiselled abs like me?" Ron smirked arrogantly, admiring his own physique in the mirror. Other than the scars, I look damn good. Maybe I should go shirtless during my training sessions in the Slytherin Training Room? I bet the witches would love it. Wait… They'd probably scream their heads off once they see the scars.

"Who needs abs when you can topple entire countries on a whim?" Ravenclaw Ron asked in return.

"You toppling many countries from that cage of yours?" Ron chuckled.

"Low blow," Ravenclaw Ron sniggered. "I see that your spirit has returned."

"A little luxury has that effect," Ron said, sniffing the watermelon body cream. Too sweet… What else can I use?

Ron picked up a bottle of aftershave, and after giving it a sniff, he decided to apply some on his cheeks.

"You don't even have facial hair," Ravenclaw Ron interrupted him.

"I like the scent," Ron shrugged.

"Apply very little, and apply it on your neck instead," Ravenclaw Ron advised.

Ron did as he was told, and after he was done, he drew in a deep breath. Oh, that smells really nice! Though it stings a little for some reason.

"Orchard breeze," Ravenclaw Ron read label on the bottle. "Bloody Pure-Bloods and their poncy-"

"Jealous?" Ron cut in.

"A little," Ravenclaw Ron admitted. "Though my suit trumps all of yours."

"That is a nice suit," Ron looked his past self over. "How did you afford it?"

"The Imperius Curse," Ravenclaw Ron replied.

"Of course," Ron sighed out, but then an idea popped into his head. "Can you teach me how to use the Unforgivables?"

"Of course," Ravenclaw Ron smirked again. "Though, before we start, let's get you an untraceable wand."

"Untraceable wand?" Ron asked, remembering the time Dumbledore had cast the Imperius Curse on him. "The Headmaster's wand is untraceable."

"Of course it is," Ravenclaw Ron said. "He's a crackpot, but he's an intelligent crackpot. Snape can teach you how to make your own wand untraceable, though I don't recommend it."

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"Because breaking the trace on your wand is a crime, one which carries a hefty sentence," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "Easier to just get one made from an illegal Wand Maker."

"Solomon would know where to find the best," Ron said, and Ravenclaw Ron gave him a nod.

"You get an untraceable wand, and I'll teach you Curses that will make your toes curl up," Ravenclaw Ron promised. "Perfect for Death-Eater scum."

"Now that I'm not staying at The Burrow, I'll be able to move about more freely," Ron said. "I'll pay Solomon a visit soon."

With that, Ron wrapped a dry towel around his waist, and then he exited the bathroom and entered his room. My own personal bathroom… Is this heaven? With a happy smile, Ron picked out a grey, augmented suit, and once he had adorned his armour, he put on freshly polished brown dress shoes.

"You know, I want to test out your suits," Ravenclaw Ron mused, he was walking upside down on the ceiling. What the fuck?!

"That's just fucking creepy," Ron muttered under his breath. "Get down from there."

"Did you know that Basilisk Skin dispels Magic?" Ravenclaw Ron went on. "You would need a Spell as powerful as Fiendfyre to damage it, and even then, the caster must be extremely proficient with the Spell."

"Would my suits block the Killing Curse?" Ron asked.

"I think so, but we'll need to test it," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "However, I must warn you… Getting hit with the Killing Curse, even if your suit blocks it, will hurt. A lot."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Have you seen what that Curse does to inanimate objects?" Ravenclaw Ron asked. "It shatters stone like its made out of parchment. The Dark Lord once threw a Killing Curse at me, and there was so much power behind it that it collapsed an entire building on top of my head."

Ron grimaced at that, how was he ever meant to defeat the Dark Lord in single combat? I don't have the Entity powering me, nor am I particularly talented. If even Albus Dumbledore can't outright defeat him, then how do I even survive an encounter with him? What chance does Harry have of completing his destiny? The Prophecy won't matter much if the Dark Lord just goes right through us both.

"Don't worry so much," Ravenclaw Ron said, he was now floating around the room. "There are other ways to win a war besides open warfare. We will use the shadows as our cover, and in the darkest of nights, we will slay the Dark Lord's pawns."

"That reminds me…" Ron whispered to himself. "Marty!"

The Elf cracked into the room, an excited glimmer in his wide eyes.

"Master has called upon Marty again!" Marty ran up to Ron, stopping just at his legs.

"You're the only person I can truly trust, Marty," Ron kneeled down, giving Marty's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"That's just hurtful, that is," Ravenclaw Ron muttered in the background.

"Marty will live up to Master's faith," Marty beamed, looking very proud of himself. "What does Master need?"

"Have you been reading up on what's going on? With the Headmaster and Knockturn Alley?" Ron asked, and Marty gave a nod.

"The Headmaster is very kind to the Elves," Marty stated. "The Headmaster pays the Elves a fair wage, and respects the Elves' feelings at all times."

"He is a good man," Ron agreed with a smile. "And right now, he's struggling to keep his life."

Marty looked a bit sad about that, but he didn't say anything.

"I want to go after the people who have hurt him, Marty," Ron went on. "The Death-Eaters… The fools at the Ministry… Everyone who has wronged the innocent for selfish gain."

"Marty will help!" Marty all but volunteered. "Marty is an excellent spy, and Marty knows all the dark corners of Magical Britain. Lord Greengrass used Marty as the Greengrass Family's personal spy for many years!" I know, which is why I know you'll succeed.

"The Order's leader is on his deathbed, which means that the Death-Eaters will be celebrating in secret," Ron said. "Right? They'll be throwing a celebration of some sort?"

"It is possible," Marty nodded.

"Would it be possible for you to look around for information?" Ron asked. "Whenever Daphne throws her parties, she sends all of her Elves out to hunt for the best dishes and cakes. The Death-Eaters could be doing the same, so if you know any Elves from those Families, I'd like you to investigate them. Find out if any Pure-Blood Family is planning some sort of feast, and then report back to me."

"Marty will take some days away from Hogwarts, Master," Marty nodded fervently. "Marty will look tirelessly for any such 'celebrations'."

"Good," Ron stood up. "Come find me in the night once you're done, and we'll plan our next move accordingly."

Marty gave a deep bow, and then he cracked out of the room. Time to move on with my day, and hope to Merlin that Marty finds something useful without getting himself hurt. Ron moved back over to his trunk, and he pulled out a vial of Calming Draught and his Nutrition Potion.

"You'll attract a lot of attention to yourself if you just attack a Death-Eater's Manor," Ravenclaw Ron said, while Ron drank down his Nutrition Potion. "They might have grown fat and lazy over the years, but don't underestimate them. These people are degenerates through and through, and cruelty is a way of life for them."

"I won't be fighting them at all," Ron said, staring at the vial of Calming Draught. Should I have it today? I don't want to become reliant on it, but without it, I find it hard to focus.

"I don't understand," Ravenclaw Ron said. "You just told your Elf to go search for a possible target."

"I have a device that unleashes poison into the air," Ron explained. "The Death-Eaters don't even take notice of the Elves in their service, that's how the Order invaded Malfoy Manor with such ease. If Marty catches a lead, I'll have him integrate himself into the household that is throwing the party. He will sneak the device into the home during the celebrations, and once the windows are sealed, he'll turn on the device and Apparate out."

"Killing several Death-Eaters without any of them realizing that anything is amiss," Ravenclaw Ron grinned. "How deliciously cold-blooded, Ronnie… Very Slytherin of you."

"It's like you said," Ron smirked as he turned to face his past self. "A wizard's mind is his strongest weapon, and I don't plan to sacrifice my strongest pieces just to kill the Dark Lord's pawns."

With that, Ron drank down half the vial, and pocketed the leftover in case he needed it later on in the day. Time to drain the Greengrass pantry dry.

One Hour Later

Ron knocked on his mentor's study door, and after a few seconds, he was given permission to enter.

"Good morning, my Lord," Ron greeted as he entered the study; Lord Greengrass was going over some documents near the fireplace.

"Good morning, Ron," Lord Greengrass gestured him to take his usual seat. "How did you sleep last night?"

"Very comfortably," Ron admitted. "I've never had such a nice bed before, even at Hogwarts."

"I'm glad," Lord Greengrass said, keeping his eyes focused on his work. "Mary and I waited for you, but you clearly needed your rest." Lord Greengrass then looked him over. "You look rejuvenated."

"I feel it," Ron said, relaxing in his chair. "The bathroom attached to my room is a wonderful place, and I'm going to be using it as often as possible."

"Did you use the products Mary sent for you?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"I did," Ron smiled. "I didn't even know that coconuts had oil… Smells nice, though. Where is Mary, by the way?"

"She has gone to tend to the denizens of Knockturn Alley again," Lord Greengrass replied. "I promised to join her after I went over some of my work."

"Do you still want to show me your ledger?" Ron asked, and Lord Greengrass moved out of his chair and walked over to the portrait of his daughters. Tiny Daphne is adorable. Look at her holding a grinning Tori on her lap. So serious and Ladylike, even as a child.

Lord Greengrass retrieved a thick, brown leather book from the safe hidden behind his daughters' portrait, which he brought over to Ron. As Lord Greengrass sat down and opened the book, Ron leaned forward to get a better look.

"Ever single Knut spent by the Greengrass Family is recorded in this ledger, Ron," Lord Greengrass said. "I put the numbers in myself, and in doing so, I control my assets so meticulously that even the Goblins would envy my skill."

"I take it that you don't trust the Goblins of Gringotts," Ron said. "Not that I blame you, of course."

"They are thieves and liars," Lord Greengrass said coldly. "It's in their blood to cheat their betters."

"Noted," Ron said, deciding to ignore his mentor's hatred of the 'lesser beings'.

"But I digress," Lord Greengrass got the hint. "Here, look at this page."

Ron scanned the page carefully, noting that Lord Greengrass had lost more money than he had made last year. So many numbers… I'm getting a headache from just looking at them.

"You lost money last year," Ron said.

"And the year before that, and the year before that," Lord Greengrass told him. "Over the last three years, I have struggled to keep our revenues ahead of our expenses."

"May I ask why?" Ron leaned back in his chair. "I thought that the Pure Families of Magical Britain were exempt from paying taxes?"

"We are, to an extent," Lord Greengrass placed the ledger on the table between them. "However, there is a price for this 'privilege'. Tell me, where does Hogwarts get its funding?"

"The Ministry?" Ron wasn't too sure.

"The Board of Governors, Ron," Lord Greengrass replied, and Ron nodded slowly. "Whereas most Half-Bloods, and all Muggle-Borns, simply move on from Hogwarts, the Old Families continue supporting it well after their education is finished. Similarly, the Old Families are constantly hounded for funding from the Ministry, and other organizations looking to establish themselves within Magical Britain. Now, since the legislation to ward off outside businesses was established, the Ministry has become even greedier for our gold. They have, essentially, put the entire country's needs on our shoulders. Corban Yaxley has made us Pure-Bloods untouchable, and he used you to do it. Without our gold, this country will fall into ruin."

"But that legislation is new," Ron said. "And it was made to keep the French out of our country."

"Short-sighted fools like Dolores Umbridge will always put their agendas ahead of the country's needs," Lord Greengrass said. "She wished to hurt the French, but in doing so, she has served the purposes of the Old Families. Fudge is not an intelligent man. He is charismatic, and has a talent for befriending the powerful, but in the long run, he will be remembered as the 'puppet Minister for Magic'."

"I understand that," Ron said, and Lord Greengrass smiled a little.

"I know you do, Ron," Lord Greengrass sounded almost proud. "Which is why I wanted to show you my ledger. I wanted to show you just how important we Pure-Bloods are to this country's survival." Lord Greengrass then gave Ron a meaningful look. "I know that you don't agree with our beliefs, and I know that you have… ill-intentions… brewing in your head."

"My Lord-" Ron started.

"Please, don't hide these things from me," Lord Greengrass said. "I see the rage behind your eyes, I see the way your face twists at the mere mention of Blood-Supremacy, and I see now that you are more dangerous than anyone realizes. There is something… dark… in your soul, Ron, and the more I speak to you, the more I come to realize that you could kill me and not lose a wink of sleep over it."

"Do you really believe that?" Ron all but whispered, his features becoming cold. "You think I would hurt you for no reason?"

Lord Greengrass relaxed in his chair, his pale eyes fixed on Ron's.

"Show me your real face, Ron," Lord Greengrass whispered. "You don't have to hide behind your mask near me, I promise." I wish I could believe that.

Ron sat motionless, his eyes locked onto his mentor's.

"What if I showed you my true face?" Lord Greengrass offered. "Would you open up to me then?"

"I know all about your crimes," Ron said coldly. "And about your weakness in the Great War." Even if your most loved ones are taken from you, you should have known better than to become a madman's servant. You killed innocents, and that can never be forgotten.

"You really have no mercy or understanding for the Death-Eaters, do you?" Lord Greengrass asked, and Ron slowly shook his head. "My family was-"

"I don't care," Ron cut him off. "I have looked past your crimes because I know that you're trying to change for your daughters' sake. I don't care about the past; I only care about the future. If you continue helping the Order, you and I can continue being mentor and apprentice. But if you ever aid the Dark Lord again, then I won't be sticking around." No mercy for the merciless.

"That's… fair," Lord Greengrass gave a nod, and then he drew in a deep breath. "I'm going to tell you something that I've only ever confessed to Mary. I'm hoping that this will win your trust, and that you will finally show me who you are." We'll see about that.

"Go on," Ron said.

"I killed my own father," Lord Greengrass confessed, and Ron cocked an eyebrow. "I killed him in this very room… He was staring into the fire, drunk in the middle of the night. I was sitting where you're sitting right now, and as I listened to him explain his plan to lend Abraxas Malfoy a large sum of money, I reached the end of my temper."

"You killed your own father over money?" Ron asked.

"No, it was much more than that," Lord Greengrass said. "He was a weak, and extremely foolish, man. Before he was made Lord Greengrass, our family was respected above all others. Our vaults were the envy of all, even our most hated enemies respected our bloodline, and the Ministry itself came begging at our door for favour every month. We were like royalty, Ron, and it was all thanks to my forefathers. We used economics to bolster our strength, while Families like the Bulstrodes and Carrows relied on mindless violence and brute force."

"But then, my father came into power," Lord Greengrass went on. "I was very young when my Grandfather died, but I still remember him quite well. Brutus Greengrass was a man worthy of respect and position, but his son, my father, was a drunken deviant. While I was studying at Hogwarts, my father spent a ludicrous amount of our wealth on self-indulgence. He built statues of himself, he threw orgies within my Family's Ancestral Manor, and he even made it a habit to dishonour his vows to my mother quite openly."

"During my time at Hogwarts, I grew more and more restless," Lord Greengrass continued, his more ruthless side showing itself. "Even as a young man, I understood that my father would eventually destroy the Greengrass Legacy, and by the time I graduated, we had become a joke. Those who once begged for our favour were now laughing in our faces, and many potential business partners were driven away because of my father's unreliable reputation. I urged him to put the family first, but he ordered me to 'know my place'."

"That's when I found myself in this room," Lord Greengrass looked around, his voice low and ominous. "I came to tell my father that I wished to marry the love of my life, and that I planned to move to Germany to live with her family. I hated my father, but I wasn't willing to step out of line… But then, he insulted Mary in front of me, and ordered me to hand over a gift of gold to Abraxas Malfoy in order to curry favour from him. Lucius was quickly becoming the Dark Lord's favourite pet, and my father wanted me to become friends with Lucius. That's when I fully realized that my father was a spineless fool, and that he didn't care about his family. He only cared about himself, and as a man, I could not forgive him. I could not forgive his disregard of honour, I could not forgive his unfaithfulness towards my mother, and I could not forgive his crimes against my forefathers."

"So I picked up an envelope opener, and I stabbed him in his back," Lord Greengrass leaned forward, something dangerous flashing behind his eyes. "He didn't deserve my Magic, he deserved to choke on his own intoxicated blood. He tried to cry for help, and he tried to crawl away, but I kept stabbing him. By the time I was done, my father's blood soaked every inch of the carpet. I then took his body, and left it in the middle of Diagon Alley. The brutality of the murder resulted in the Ministry blaming the rising Dark Lord, and my family received another chance to regain its tarnished honour. Since that day, I have worked tirelessly to rebuild our empire, and now, I sit on a throne made of gold, and there isn't a single sane soul in Magical Europe that would dare cross me."

Silence followed Lord Greengrass' tale, and the only noise in the room was the sound of the crackling fireplace. Ron just stared at his mentor, a man who had committed patricide in a most brutal manner, and for the first time, Ron felt that he truly understood Lord Greengrass. Much like himself, Lord Greengrass was willing to do whatever it took to win, and that's why he was so feared and respected.

Lord Greengrass was loyal only to his own family, and if anyone, even a Greengrass, put the family in danger, then Lord Greengrass would destroy them without remorse. Two monsters sharing a room, hoping to learn more about each other. We like this… It's fun!

"Did you kill the Abadies, Ron?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"Yes…" Ron whispered, his eyes flashing red.

Lord Greengrass froze in his chair, his eyes betraying his fear. Afraid of an actual monster, my Lord?

"Have you killed anyone else…?" Lord Greengrass swallowed thickly, his eyes staring into the burning coals that reminded him of the Dark Lord.

"Yes…" Ron 'smiled', his Magic subduing all the light within the room until his glowing eyes were illuminating a petrified Lord Greengrass.

"Are you going to kill the Old Families?" Lord Greengrass asked, drawing in a sharp breath.

"Only the ones that get in my way," Ron whispered dangerously, slowly leaning forward. "Are you afraid, Sebastian?"

"Yes…" Lord Greengrass admitted. "Are you… Are you like the Dark Lord? Your eyes… They're just like his… Hatred made manifest…"

"I am not like the Dark Lord," Ron replied. "But I'm not like Albus Dumbledore either. I am something else entirely."

"Does my daughter know about this?" Lord Greengrass paled, and Ron's eyes returned to normal. Daphne…

The lamps and fireplace lit up the room again, and Ron felt calmness wash over him.

"No," Ron replied tranquilly, and Lord Greengrass released a shaky breath.

"Good… Good…" Lord Greengrass nodded to himself, and then he studied Ron's face. "You really do love her, don't you?"

"I do," Ron admitted, thinking of his favourite moments with Daphne. Just being around her made me feel so content, and I know that she felt the same way. "But I don't plan to chase after her anymore. It will only hurt her, and I can't do that to her. She deserves better than me."

"Why did you try to kill yourself, Ron?" Lord Greengrass asked, some concern seeping into his voice.

"Because I'm tired…" Ron replied, looking a decade older. "So tired…"

"Will you try it again?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"Not until my work is done," Ron replied. "After that, I will take my own life."

"Why?" Lord Greengrass asked immediately. "Why, Ron?"

"Because monsters deserve death," Ron found his conviction again. "I will become the monster who hunts other monsters, and once I'm done with them, I'll turn my wrath upon myself. Once I'm gone, the world will finally be a better place."

Lord Greengrass looked lightheaded, and his eyes moved around the room in a dazed manner. He was shaken to his core, and even Ron could tell that he needed a break.

"What happened to you, son…?" Lord Greengrass muttered. "What did I miss…? I… I don't understand…"

"You never really knew me, and you never truly will," Ron stood up, and Lord Greengrass looked up at him. "But know that I love you and your family, and if I have to choose between any of you and myself, I will gladly give my life to protect you and yours."

With that, Ron moved towards the door, stopping right before he exited the study.

"Show me your loyalty, Lord Greengrass, and I will show you mine," Ron said, deciding to go join Mary at Diagon Alley. "I will be waiting for you at Diagon Alley, don't keep me waiting for too long."

Theodore Nott's POV

Saturday 6th February, 1994 (Slytherin Common Room – Midday)

While his friends worked on their Herbology homework, Theo sat in front of the fire as he listened to Tracey's Walkman. He had nicked it during his last visit, unable to resist the urge to keep a part of his friend on his person. It helped him cope with his grief, just as gardening had helped him cope with his mother's death.

Theo had lost two friends in one day, and try as he might, there were moments where it all overwhelmed him. He missed Tracey's silly jokes and unladylike laughter, and he missed Ron's encouraging smiles and protective nature.

Ron and Tracey were the glue that held them all together, and Theo, much like the others, had realized that too late. Tracey always stepped in to stop them from becoming arrogant bastards like Flint and the Malfoy of old, while Ron kept them safe at the expense of his own wellbeing.

They were both so precious to him, but now they were gone…

Theo was trying his best to bring Malfoy and Blaise out of their self-imposed solitude, while Millie was constantly struggling to put Pansy and Daphne's shattered hearts back together.

But they were both failing…

Malfoy had stopped giving a fuck the day Ron had decided to stay home, while Blaise was constantly worrying over Lord De Luca's life. No matter what Theo said to them, it was never enough. Both Blaise and Malfoy were self-involved by nature, and it had taken Ron's overwhelming presence to bring them out of their shells. Without Ron, they felt no need to care about anyone but themselves, and that was doing Theo's head in. It's not like I was trained for this, I've always been told to look out only for myself. This business is beyond me, and I don't know why Ron gave me this impossible task.

A sniffle interrupted his thoughts, and Theo pulled out his earphones before shooting a look back at Daphne. Great… She's crying again. Millie immediately moved in to console her, while Daphne did her best to hide her face from the rest of the common room. Pansy reached across and took Daphne's hand in her own, while Malfoy and Blaise just ignored her. What would Tracey do?

Theo let out a soft sigh; he knew exactly what she would do. Time to go fail again, Theo.

He turned the Walkman off, and then he moved over and sat down in front of Daphne.

"A Greengrass doesn't cry in public," Theo whispered, offering Daphne his handkerchief. "C'mon, Daphne… Don't do this out here. Someone will see, and we're not in a position to show weakness-"

"Theo," Millie hissed, giving him a warning look. What? Everything I just said makes perfect sense!

"He's right…" Daphne whimpered, drawing in short, ragged breaths. "I… need to get a hold… of myself…"

"It's okay, Daphne," Pansy whispered, giving Daphne's hand a squeeze.

"We're finally sitting outside together, and we need to-" Theo started.

"Theo, for Merlin's sake, you're making her feel worse," Millie pinched the bridge of her nose. How? Fucking girls… How are we supposed to figure out their overly emotional blabbering? Merlin, Tracey never behaved this way. "Daphne, let's go to our room, okay? You can let it all out, and then we'll come right back."

Daphne gave a meek nod, and Millie began helping her to her feet.

"What's this?" came an all too familiar voice; it was laced with arrogance and stupidity in equal measure. Flint… The offspring of a Troll and a Hag… My day keeps getting worse.

"What do you want?" Millie asked as she pulled Daphne behind herself, while Theo stood up and stared at Flint's gang. He's got the whole Quidditch Team with him, which means that he came looking for trouble. Ron, why the fuck aren't you here?

"We just came back from practise, and we wanted to warm ourselves by the fire," Lucian Bole smirked, shooting Pansy a wink.

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered like idiots, looking all too pleased with themselves.

"Do you Ladies want to join us?" Flint smirked at Daphne and Pansy, and then he sneered at Millie. "Not you, though… I'm not into ugly little boys."

Millie gave Flint a bored look, while Pansy glared murder at Flint.

"How about you lot piss off?" Blaise closed his books and stood up. "What? You think you're impressing people by behaving this way? We all know that if Ron were here, you'd be skulking in the corner like the losers you are."

"From what we've heard, Weasley isn't coming back at all," Graham Montague said, looking to his friends for approval. "I guess that getting his friend killed made him realize that he's just another Blood-Traitor-"

"Back off," Millie snarled, taking a step forward. Shit! This is escalating!

"You lot are disgracing yourselves," Theo spoke up, moving between Millie and Quidditch Team. Can't let her lose her temper. "We're third years, whereas you're mostly made up of fifth years. You don't gain anything from this-"

"We get plenty out of this," Goyle chuckled, and Theo shot his old friend a dull look.

"Look at you, standing up for the pig," Flint laughed in Theo's face. She's not even overweight anymore, you fucking Troll. "Why don't you be a good little Nott, and start kissing my arse for favour." Really? You're going to insult my family?

"I'm sorry, I zoned out there…" Theo smirked, looking at Flint's large front teeth. "Your face is like three-quarters teeth, and it's very distracting. Tell me, is your mother the Troll, or is it your father? I've seen them both, and honestly, I can't tell the difference-"

Flint suddenly clocked him, and being the weedy young lad he was, he was sent barrelling to the floor. What… the… fuck…?

"Theo!" Pansy shrieked, moving over to his side. "Theo, are you okay?!" Dear Gods, where am I? What happened?

He heard the sound of a Hex going off, followed by Flint screaming at the top of his lungs. Theo tried to sit up, but he couldn't manage to keep his spine straight. He bobbed back and forth, eventually letting Pansy hold him in place. She was whispering frantically in his ear, but all he could focus on was how heavy his left cheek felt.

"What is going on here?!" Clara Martyris' voice boomed. "Explain yourselves!"

"She Hexed Flint! Look at him!" Cassius Warrington snapped. Who Hexed Flint?

Theo looked around in a daze, watching all of his friends aiming their wands at Flint's gang. Millie was standing at the front, an orange mist seeping out of the tip of her wand. She looked bloody murderous, ready to Hex anyone else who raised their hand against her friends.

"Take him to the Hospital Wing!" Clara ordered, and Flints mates quickly did as they were told.

Theo managed to catch a glimpse of Flint's face; it was covered in bursting boils. Ugh… Wish I hadn't seen that…

"Theo? Can you hear me? Clara, he can't hold his head up," Pansy fretted, while Theo's head dropped onto her shoulder.

His vision started becoming blurry, and his eyes refused to stay open. I'm tired… Maybe I'll take a nap…

"He hit his head on the floor," came Daphne's voice, was she holding his hand? Two witches fretting over me? Should've taken a punch to the face sooner…

"Get him to the Hospital Wing as well," Clara sighed out. "You lot… Honestly…"

"How is this our fault?!" Millie snapped, outright challenging Clara. "The Triumvirate is supposed to keep the peace, right? Why aren't you three putting an end to Flint's behaviour? He's making everyone miserable, and you're not doing anything about it!"

"Don't raise your voice at me," Clara warned.

"Why shouldn't she?" Blaise demanded. "You three really are cowards, aren't you? After everything Ron's done for you, you still let Flint get away with everything because you don't have the courage to stand up to him. Bloody people pleasers…"

"Enough!" came Clara's voice, and Theo felt his brain ache. For the love of Merlin, please use your inside voices. I feel like a donkey kicked me in the head. Wait… A donkey did kick me in the head…

"Anyone with half a brain understands how you three got into power," Blaise didn't back off. "You walk around with your tits out and your arses on full display, acting like cheap whores and distracting everyone from the fact that you make others do all the work." Is he talking about them, or his own mother? "Sure, you're clever, but when someone like Flint gets into your face, you three always fold. Fucking pathetic! If Ron were here, you would just make him deal with Flint, right?!"

"Enough, Zabini!" Clara snapped. "Get your friend to the Hospital Wing, I'll be talking to Professor Snape about this once he returns from St. Mungo's."

"Yeah, piss off," Blaise spat out, moving in front of Theo. "Theo… Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me, mate."

Theo tried to nod, but his head refused to budge from Pansy's soft shoulder. I'm going to sleep.

"We should levitate him," Daphne said, her voice sounded so far away. "I don't think he can stand up."

Theo felt himself drift away; his last thoughts were about Tracey's Walkman. I miss listening to music with Trace… She always had so many facts to share about the 'music industry'.

Luna Lovegood's POV

Saturday 6th February, 1994 (The Black Lake – Midday)

Luna gently placed the seaweed wreath on the banks of the Black Lake; she had spent all week crafting this crown for the King of the Merfolk. Her father had told her that the Merfolk were extremely intelligent, and so Luna was hoping to impress them by giving them a handcrafted gift.

They no doubt had their own forms of medicine, and just maybe, one of their medicines could help her brother.

She knew that her motives weren't exactly pure, but for Ron's sake, she would do anything in her power to look for a cure. It was a faint hope, but that's all she had at this point. Please, accept this gift, and give me an audience with your King.

Luna took a step back and smiled at the Black Lake, its dark waters were a place that she couldn't wait to explore one day. I could use Gillyweed, though it's too hard to find. Maybe the Bubble-head Charm? Oh, what if it pops? I'm not a very good swimmer as it is, and I doubt that Ginny will be around to pull my head out of the water this time around.

"Look, it's little, loony Luna!" came Gertrude's voice, and Luna turned her smile in the girl's direction. She found me out here? Even though I snuck out of the Tower? Not a coincidence. They took my shoes again, just like they tore up Cho's new cloak.

Gertrude was with her two friends again; all three of them were equally cruel and deceptive. Since Gertrude was a prefect, no one ever questioned her character, and her friends used that to get away with their bullying. All the younger girls in Ravenclaw knew better than to cross Gertrude Swans, while all the younger girls in the other Houses looked up to her. It was a clever strategy on their part, but Luna couldn't help but wonder why they would go through so much trouble just to be cruel to other people. It's truly baffling.

"Look at her creepy smile," Kara sniggered, while Gertrude and Iona just smirked down at her. "Loony, why do you smile at people like that? It's gross." My friends don't think so.

Luna didn't like the three older girls, but she also felt no need to give them the reactions that they were no doubt looking for. Her mother had warned her about bullies, and Luna knew that they only had power if their victims gave it to them.

"I don't think my smiles are gross," Luna hummed, and Kara lost her humour.

"They are gross," Kara sneered.

"What are you doing out here, Loony?" Iona asked. "Trying to communicate with your people?"

"In a way," Luna replied pleasantly. We're all living in the same world, and in many ways, the Merfolk are like us. They have cultures, a hierarchy, laws-

"Oi!" Gertrude waved in her face, she was the worst one of the three. "It's rude to zone out like that. Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

"I could ask the same of you," Luna smiled, and something dangerous flashed behind Gertrude's eyes.

"Snarky little tart," Gertrude hissed, taking a step forward. "You know, ever since your barmy father wrote that article on Unicorns, you've been walking around like you own Ravenclaw Tower… The rest of us are getting a little sick of your attitude, and we think that you need to be brought down a peg."

"Are you sure that you're not talking about yourself?" Luna cocked her head; she was a little confused now. I would never act like I own Ravenclaw Tower. Only the Grey Lady can claim the Tower as hers.

"This bitch…" Iona shook her head in disbelief. "Do you think she has some brain deformity?"

"That's not a nice thing to say," Luna blurted out, thinking of her treasured brother.

"Not a nice thing to say?" Kara burst into laughter. "I can't believe this… She's got to be brain damaged in some way!"

"Clearly, why else would she walk around without any shoes?" Gertrude smirked, shooting a look down at Luna's bare feet. "You have very ugly little toes, by the way." Ugly toes? I didn't know that toes could be ugly… They're just toes.

"Honestly, look at her!" Kara kept laughing, it sounded so forced. "She doesn't even register half the things we say!"

"I don't feel the need to respond to people like you," Luna hummed, wiggling her toes in the sand. Hehe, that feels nice.

"People like us?" Gertrude frowned.

"Bullies," Luna replied politely, and all three girls went silent. "Oh, can I have my shoes back, though? The castle is really cold sometimes, and my feet hurt at the end of every day. Oh, and Professor Flitwick was asking me why I don't have my shoes, so it won't be long before he figures out that you took them."

"Are you accusing us of stealing?" Gertrude suddenly shoved her, and Luna fell back on her bum.

A hint of fear and panic shot throughout her body, she had never been shoved so hard before. That hurt… Gertrude towered above her, her wand aimed at Luna's face. Out of instinct, Luna quickly covered her face and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the incoming Hex.

But no Hex came, and eventually, Luna looked back up at her assailant in a confused manner. Did she realize that she's taking it too far? I hope so. I don't want to fight anyone.

Gertrude was smiling at her; she looked sadistic enough to frighten Luna even more.

"Incendio," Gertrude chanted, aiming her wand at the seaweed wreath. NO!

Luna let out a panicked scream, but she was helpless to stop the wreath's destruction. Within a heartbeat, it had burst into bright flames, its beauty melting before her very eyes. The smell was so pungent that even Luna had to hold her breath, the sound of the girls' laughter echoing in her head.

Her mother had always told her not to give in to bullies, no doubt because she knew that Luna was different from everyone else, but right now, Luna couldn't bring herself to think of her mother's lessons.

When they had taken her shoes, she had ignored them. When they had hidden her cloak during winter, she had ignored them. When they had labelled her as 'Loony Lovegood', she had ignored them.

Every time they had come after her, she had remembered her mother's teachings and looked past their behaviour.

But this…

The wreath was meant for the King of the Merfolk… He would have helped her find a cure for Ron… Luna had handcrafted this crown for her brother's sake… It wasn't one of her belongings; it was her only way to get in touch with the Merfolk. They'll never accept a melted crown… I'm so sorry, Ron.

Her eyes began to burn painfully, and she huddled her knees into her chest before letting out a sob. It had taken her so long to collect all of that seaweed, and Ron was already running out of time. He had always come through for her, and the one time he needed her help, she had failed miserably. I'm a terrible sister…

"We finally did it!" Kara was laughing, while Gertrude was using her boot to poke Luna's side.

"It was an ugly little thing, Loony," Gertrude said, barely able to contain her glee. "C'mon, don't be sad… I did you a favour."

"It… wasn't for… me…" Luna began shaking, why would they do this to Ron?

"OI!" came a loud voice, and the sound of a broom zooming overhead made Luna flinch. "What's going on here?!"

Just as Luna looked up, she saw Harry leap off of his broom and run up to her side. He was wearing his Quidditch Gear, and Luna figured that the Gryffindor Team was training for their big game tomorrow.

"Luna? Is that you?" Harry whispered; his sweaty brow was furrowed with concern.

"Harry…?" Luna sniffled. What's he doing here? The Quidditch Pitch is across the Black Lake.

Harry quickly looked towards the burning wreath, and then he turned his attention to her bare feet. Luna opened her mouth to explain what was happening, but judging by the ever-growing frown on Harry's face, he had figured out that the three older girls were harassing her.

"Are you picking on her?" Harry looked towards Gertrude.

"I'm a prefect, Potter," Gertrude's voice became innocent and pleasant. "I saw her crying all by herself, and so I came to check-"

"Don't lie to me!" Harry barked, shooting up to his feet. "I saw you kicking her!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Gertrude said calmly. "Luna is a Ravenclaw, which means that we were looking out for-"

"I heard you laughing at her!" Harry clenched his fists. "I know bullies when I see them, I've spent my entire life dealing with people like you!"

"Back off, Potter," Kara hissed, but Gertrude raised her hand to silence her friends.

"You're accusing us without proof," Gertrude said in a scolding tone. "Do I need to talk to the Head-Boy about this?"

"Oh, by all means, bring him over," Harry replied. "Luna's like his little sister, so I'd love to tell him about you three bullying her to tears!"

"Harry, don't…" Luna rubbed her eyes clear, she didn't want Percy to worry over her. He's always working so hard, and I can't add to his worries. Not with Ron missing.

"Luna, you can't let these three bullies treat you like this," Harry said firmly. "They have no right to mistreat you, and if you don't stand up to them, they'll keep coming for you like the vultures they are."

"You're crossing a line, Potter," Gertrude frowned; her vanity was definitely wounded.

"You crossed it first when you started picking on my friend," Harry said defiantly. "Leave. Her. Alone… I won't ask you again."

Luna shrunk a little; there was a deadliness to Harry's voice that reminded her of Ron's temper.

"Are you threatening us?" Iona looked thoroughly offended. "We're girls, you ape! You can't talk to us like that!"

Harry suddenly turned his head and cracked his neck, and Luna's eyes shot wide-open. Ron?!

"You're bullies, the rest matters very little to me," Harry whispered coldly, methodically drawing out his wand. "You want to pick on someone? Go on, pick on me."

Luna forced herself to stand up, grabbing Harry's wand arm tightly.

"Harry, please don't," Luna whispered. "You can't lower yourself to their level. My mum always-"

"Lower himself to our level?" Gertrude hissed, shooting Luna a dark look. "You really do think that you're better than everyone else, don't you?"

"She is better than you," Harry pulled Luna behind himself. "Go on, draw your wands."

Gertrude and her friends glared murder at Harry, but he was completely unfazed by it. They're going to start fighting because of me… What do I do?

"There you are, Harry!" Fred called, and everyone looked up to see the twins flying over.

"Wood sent us after you!" George said, landing gracefully between Harry and the three girls.

"What's going on here?" Fred asked merrily, landing right next to his brother.

The twins looked Luna over, and then they turned to face the three girls.

"Oh, no… Have we interrupted something?" Fred asked, his voice still full of mischief.

"Your Seeker was threatening us!" Kara huffed out.

"That doesn't sound like Harry at all," George tilted his head.

"Harry, were you threatening them?" Fred looked back to Harry, his eyes darting towards Luna for a moment. They know, don't they? Gertrude is in a lot of trouble now, I think.

"They were picking on Luna," Harry told them, still hiding Luna behind himself. "I came over because the Snitch flew in this direction, but then I saw them laughing at her and kicking her."

"Kicking her?" Fred's smile vanished completely.

"You kicked our sister?" George asked, his voice now emotionless.

"He's lying," Gertrude frowned deeply. "We came to check up on her, and now, we're being accused without any proof-"

"You're a poor liar, Swans," Fred cut in. "Luna rarely ever cries, so someone must have set her off."

"And we know that you have taken her shoes from her in the past," George added. "It's time you three left, I reckon. Before Fred and I stop being handsome mischief makers, and turn into Azkaban's most wanted."

"Harry, take Luna back to the castle, please," Fred ordered; keeping his eyes fixed on their new targets. "We want to remember their faces, so we'll be right with you."

"C'mon, Luna," Harry guided her towards his broom; while Luna just watched quietly as the twins memorized her bullies' faces. They're in so much trouble.

Harry hopped onto his broom, and then he helped Luna climb onto the back. She shot one last look at the destroyed wreath, and a horrible feeling of guilt settled into her stomach. I'll start again tomorrow, and I'll work twice as hard on the next one.

"Hold on tightly, Luna," Harry instructed, and she quickly wrapped her arms around his stomach. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Luna sniffled, resting her forehead on his back.

Harry kicked off of the ground, and after hovering in the air for a second; they blasted off in the direction of Hogwarts. Luna was shocked and terrified by the Firebolt's speed, and she nearly squeezed Harry's insides out of his mouth. Her long hair blew fiercely in the wind, and the tears on her cheeks were dried by the onslaught of the wind.

And before she knew it, Harry was lowering them onto the courtyard.

"Luna, you're squeezing too tightly," Harry said, clearly trying to hide his discomfort.

"Sorry," Luna apologized; while Harry patted her hand to let her know that it was safe to get off.

Luna carefully moved off of the broom, and once she was on solid ground, Harry hopped off of the broom in a rather stylish manner. It's no wonder that he's Gryffindor's Seeker, he's very good at handling such a powerful broom.

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized for some reason, giving her hair a lookover.

"Oh," Luna realized that her hair had gone puffy because of the cold wind. "Don't worry, Harry, my hair always gets like this in the cold."

She hummed her mother's tune while patting her hair down, and Harry stood around awkwardly as he waited for her to finish. Once she had somewhat tamed her hair, she gave Harry a weak smile.

"Thank you for standing up for me," Luna said, and Harry shrugged and mirrored her smile.

"They were way out of line, Luna," Harry said, looking bashful because of her gratitude. Noble. Just like a lion. "Um… Do you want to talk to the Professors about this? I'm sure Professor Flitwick will put an end to their bullying."

"He's in a lot of pain right now," Luna said, and Harry blinked at her. "The Headmaster is his friend, isn't he?"

"Oh… Of course," Harry caught on. "Still… I don't think we should just let them get away with this. They didn't hurt you too badly, did they? I can take you to Madam Pomfrey-"

"You're sweet to worry," Luna hummed; she could see why Ron had befriended Harry on the Hogwarts Express. They're quite alike, but also very different. "Why did you crack your neck like that, Harry?"

"Pardon?" Harry looked lost again. "I… I don't remember cracking my neck…" Curious. Ron also doesn't realize that he does it. Very curious.

Harry suddenly scratched his scar, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Are you in pain?" Luna asked, and Harry shook his head.

"No… My scar just… Never mind," Harry put on a smile. "Luna, if you ever need help, you can always come to me, you know? I mean, Hermione and Neville will help as well, of course, but I'll also…" he trailed off.

"Don't tell Ginny about this," Luna said, and Harry just stared at her. "She won't stand for it, and I don't want her to get into trouble because of me."

"Luna… This isn't your fault," Harry said slowly.

"I know, but I'd still feel bad if she got into trouble for standing up for me," Luna said airily. "Wouldn't you feel bad if Neville got in trouble whilst looking out for you?"

"I… I guess I would," Harry nodded, and then he shot Luna an odd look. "I'm starting to see why you got sorted into Ravenclaw."

Harry then looked in the direction of the Black Lake, his hand tightening around his broom.

"The twins are taking a while…" Harry muttered under his breath.

"Oh, they're probably hurting Gertrude and her friends," Luna stated. It's really unfortunate for the girls that the twins showed up. I don't think they'll be targeting me ever again.

"Hurting?" Harry repeated, and Luna nodded her head fervently.

"Don't worry, they won't get in trouble for it," Luna began making her way towards the castle. "They're too clever to get caught."

"Luna, wait," Harry ran up to her. "I have an extra pair of shoes, let me get them for you."

"Aren't your shoes for boys?" Luna cocked her head. "I'm a girl."

"Then I'll ask Hermione," Harry said. "C'mon, we can go talk to her together."

Luna thought about the offer, and a plan popped into her head. If Harry and Hermione help me, then Ginny and Ron will start to forgive them! Maybe this had to happen so that we could all be friends again!

"Okay, Harry," Luna smiled fully.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised that she had accepted his offer so suddenly. "Let's go right away, then!"

Harry began leading the way inside, and Luna thanked the Three Fates for their gift. Mum was right; things have a way of working themselves out. I just need to embellish the tale of Harry saving me a little, and then we can all become friends again.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 6th February, 1994 (Diagon Alley – Evening)

Ron used his wand to soak the bloodied bandages in the wooden tub; Aunt Muriel had set up a makeshift hospital in the centre of the camp and Ron had decided to help out there instead of handing out hot soup and toys. He wasn't particularly skilled at Healing Magic, so he was treating this experience as a much needed lesson.

So far, he had learned four different Spells, and all of them were quite useful and easy to cast. 'Excipiant' was useful for pulling out pus, and other bodily fluids, in small and safe quantities, 'Irrigandum' created sparkly, green water that was perfect for disinfecting wounds, 'Suo' summoned a sticky, silk-like material that could glue and hold together open wounds, and 'Somnium' could put a grown man to sleep if he wasn't actively resisting with Occlumency.

"Make sure you get the bandages from the other side of the camp," Aunt Muriel ordered, she had been casually relaxing in a chair all day.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Ron shot her a dull look. "Or did you end up breaking your brittle hip and can't leave that chair anymore?"

"I'm too old to be playing Medi-Witch, boy," Aunt Muriel said. "That's why I hired strong young men to do all the heavy lifting for me."

"Do I get paid as well?" Ron smirked.

"Not if you keep running your mouth while there is work to be done," Aunt Muriel scoffed, closing her eyes. "Your voice is grating, go make yourself busy elsewhere."

"Try not to die in your sleep, please," Ron finished soaking the bandages. "There are little children here."

Aunt Muriel's face twisted into a sneer, but Ron quickly made his way out of the tent before she could retort. Got her! Time to check up on our progress.

As he made his way through the camp, he noticed that spirits were slowly rising amongst the camp dwellers. Hot food, kindness, and warmth had done wonders, and that filled Ron with a certain sense of fulfilment. He had done something good with his talents, and he was only just beginning.

Ron was pulled out of his thoughts when someone suddenly tugged at his sleeve, and he turned around to see a little girl staring up at him. She was rather gaunt, which served to make her wide, brown eyes pop out even more, and judging by the grime in her auburn hair, she had found herself caught up in the raid. Bloody hell, she's as skinny as one of Priscilla's friends. Is she a Squib?

"Hello," Ron smiled and kneeled down, putting them at a similar height.

"Are you in charge?" the girl asked timidly. "Everyone is saying that you're in charge…"

This was all Lady Longbottom and Aunt Muriel's doing, both witches had spread the word that this was all Ron's idea in an attempt to raise his reputation and give him credibility. Personally, Ron wasn't sure how he felt about that. He preferred not being seen now, especially given his more 'illegal' activities, but since the cat was out of the bag, Ron decided to play along.

"I'm one of the people in charge of helping out," Ron said. "What's your name?"

"Vivian," the girl seemed to relax a little. "Can my papa have more soup? Please? He's sick, but no one is helping him." No one is helping him? Why? Are certain people in this camp being neglected?

"Where is your papa, Vivian?" Ron asked, deciding to investigate this himself.

"Over there," Vivian pointed towards the edge of the camp. "Can you give him more soup? He'll wake up if you do, I know it." Wake up?

Ron felt a cold feeling in his stomach, but he kept his smile in place.

"Take me to him, please," Ron stood up, offering the girl his hand.

She took his index finger in her small hand, quickly guiding him towards her father. Merlin, please don't let that man be dead. What am I going to tell this girl if he is? Each step became harder and harder to take, but Ron pushed on for the girl's sake. Where is her mother?

"Vivian, is your mother around?" Ron asked.

"Mama left when I was a baby," Vivian replied, not sounding very bothered about it. "Papa raised me by himself. He's really kind, and he always tells me that I'm special."

"Special?" Ron asked.

"I can do Magic, but papa can't," Vivian shot back a proud smile. "I'm going to Hogwarts next year!"

"You're eleven?" Ron asked. She looks no older than seven.

"I'm ten," she corrected. "But I'm going to be eleven next week. Papa is planning a party for me."

"And you mentioned that your papa can't do Magic?" Ron asked, and Vivian nodded her head.

"No one likes papa because he can't do Magic…" she said. "No one comes to his shop, and he has no friends. But I can do Magic, so papa doesn't have to." The daughter of a Squib. I wonder if her father grew up in Knockturn Alley like Priscilla.

Vivian led him towards a man on a stretcher, and Ron immediately noticed that his right leg was missing. He was covered in fresh bandages, so he was most likely treated just a few hours ago by one of Aunt Muriel's workers. He looked to be sleeping, but Ron's instincts told him otherwise. Please, don't be dead. Please.

"Papa won't wake up," Vivian pointed towards her father. "I think he's too hungry and tired, so can he have more soup? Please?" Is it just me? Or, does this girl sound like she's in a trance of some sort? Could it be shock?

"Vivian, why don't you let me check on him?" Ron put on another smile. "I need you to do something very important for me."

"Really?" Vivian immediately looked curious, a childish smile playing on her dried lips.

"There is a big, green tent at the centre of the camp," Ron said softly. "An old woman is sleeping on a chair inside, and I need you to wake her up for me. Tell her that I need some help, okay?"

"I'll wake her up," Vivian promised, and then she gave Ron a hopeful look. "If I bring her, my papa can have soup, right?"

"Right," Ron's eyes darted towards the still man. "Go on, Vivian… I'll be waiting for you."

"I'll be quick," she said, and then she hurried off to find the green tent.

Ron drew in a deep breath, and once Vivian had disappeared into the crowd, Ron made his way over to her father. He kneeled down besides the still man, placing his gloved hand on the man's shoulder and giving him a light shake.

"Sir? Can you hear me?" Ron asked, shaking him again.

There was no response, and Ron felt his stomach tighten painfully. Check if he's breathing, Ron. Ron placed his left index finger underneath the man's nose, and he felt nothing. The man wasn't breathing, though his skin was still somewhat warm.

"He's dead, mate," Ravenclaw Ron said, he was suddenly sitting on the opposite side of the man. "Most likely died in his sleep due to his injuries. If he were a wizard, his Magic might've helped him recover, but being a Squib…" he trailed off.

"Fuck," Ron muttered under his breath, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him.

He didn't even know this man, and yet, he could feel grief creeping into his soul. The Dark Lord had claimed another victim, and had left another child orphaned in the process. What was Ron going to tell Vivian? Why did he promise to help her before getting the facts straight? Her father was dead, and no amount of soup was ever going to bring him back. What am I supposed to do? Why is everything so fucked?!

"Sir?" Ron whispered, his throat closing up. "Wake up… Your um… Your daughter… She's bringing help…"

"Ron, let it go," Ravenclaw Ron whispered. "He's gone."

"No!" Ron hissed, his eyes flashing red. Kill them… Kill each and every single one of them! Death-Eater scum!

Ron looked the man over again; his vision was starting to get blurry. He quickly wiped the tears out of his eyes, crying wasn't going to achieve a damn thing. Instead, he grabbed the man by his collar, and shook him fiercely.

"Get up," Ron hissed, but the man refused to respond. "You have a daughter to protect, don't you? Get the fuck back up."

"Ron, look at me," Ravenclaw Ron said firmly, and Ron immediately glared at him. "You're shaking, you're speaking Parseltongue, and your eyes have become red. You look like the monster that got this man killed. Stop it… Drink the Calming Draught in your pocket, and regain yourself before that little girl comes back."

Ron let out a shaky breath; he could feel bile rising in the back of his throat. What am I going to tell her? What the fuck am I supposed to say to a little girl who just lost her father? Ron slowly reached into his pocket, his trembling hand nearly dropping the half-empty vial of Calming Draught. Opening the vial was even harder, but Ron managed to drink down the entire thing without spilling a drop.

The cool liquid travelled down his tight gullet, slowly working its Magic and bringing some order to his chaotic mind.

"Better?" Ravenclaw Ron asked, and Ron gave a weak nod. We need to do something about this body. Aunt Muriel will hopefully bring some of her workers with her.

Ron looked back at the man's peaceful face, and then he gently tidied up the man's tattered robes.

"I'm sorry," Ron whispered. "I'll do something to help your daughter, I promise."

"She'll likely get sent to a Ministry funded orphanage," Ravenclaw Ron said. "And since she has Magic, she won't get discarded." Ravenclaw Ron then gave Ron a meaningful look. "It's easier to be detached, Ron… The Dark Lord is still in his weakened state, but hundreds are already dead. It only gets worse from here."

"I know," Ron whispered, just staring at the deceased man. "Let's just hope Marty finds a lead, and then we can give these bastards a taste of their own medicine."

"Ron, there you are," came Mary's voice, and Ravenclaw Ron vanished immediately.

"Mr. Weasley, I got your message," Madam Bones said, and Ron looked back over his shoulder.

Mary had stopped right behind him, and she had brought Madam Bones with her.

"Are you looking after this man?" Mary asked, while Madam Bones scanned the corpse.

"I was going to look after him, but he's dead," Ron said, and Mary froze on the spot. "His daughter asked me to bring him some food, she'll be back with Aunt Muriel any second now."

"Gods… Ron…" Mary went pale in the face, while Madam Bones removed her monocle and pinched her eyes. She looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"She's ten, Mary, and I have no idea what to say to her when she gets here," Ron sighed out, getting back up on his feet.

Mary took a step forward and pulled him into a hug, letting him rest his weary head on her shoulder. She whispered words of comfort as she rubbed his back, but Ron couldn't really make sense of them.

Maybe he didn't want to? Maybe he was sick of being 'sheltered' by people who simply ignored all the evil in the world in order to live out their own happy little lives? Who were they to tell him not to look? Who were they to judge him for having the courage to fight back against the corruption?

"You're doing good work here, Ronald," Madam Bones said, pulling Ron out of his thoughts. "Your parents would be proud." Is that a joke?

"Yes, I'm sure," Ron said coldly, pulling away from Mary. "I won't take up too much of your time, Madam Bones, I know that you are a busy woman."

Madam Bones gave a nod, and then she gestured him to step away from the body.

"Look after the girl when she gets here," Ron told Mary, ignoring the tears in her eyes.

He then followed Madam Bones away from prying ears, shooting one last look at the deceased Squib. You will be avenged. I swear it.

"Tonks told me that you want to go after the Minister for this," Madam Bones cut to the chase.

"And Lucius Malfoy," Ron added.

"Elaborate on your plan," Madam Bones said, and Ron just stared at her. "What is it?"

"You're not going to bring up my age this time?" Ron asked, and Madam Bones shot a quick look around them.

"No one stepped up to help these people, not even the Ministry," Madam Bones replied. "But you did… So, no, I won't bring up your age ever again. You have my respect now, Ronald. Tell me of your plan, I need all the help I can get right now." A practical witch, just as Professor Snape described her.

"I want the Aurors to come forward and give their accounts of the raid," Ron started. "That includes you as well."

"And what of these people?" Madam Bones asked.

"Those who wish to speak out will be given the chance to do so," Ron replied. "But I won't force them to put targets on their backs. They've suffered enough already, and I won't add to their problems."

"Well, one word from me, and you will have all of the Aurors' accounts," Madam Bones said. "You will publish these accounts in your magazine, right? I must warn you that the Minister won't take this lying down, Ronald. The Ministry has become split, and many are still trying to cling onto the promises made by the Minister during his long run."

Madam Bones then looked around again; she was certainly acting paranoid.

"I must tell you something important if we are to work together," Madam Bones whispered. "Bartemius Crouch and I have launched an internal investigation into Minister Fudge and Dolores Umbridge. We had to make it official, and as a result, the Minister's bootlickers are pushing us out. You'll be joining a difficult battle, and you will most definitely become a target."

"I want justice, and I'll do whatever it takes to get it," Ron assured her. "Tell me more about this internal investigation."

"I can't give you any official details," Madam Bones explained. "It would jeopardize the case if we break protocol… However, I can tell you that the Minister's connections to certain Families are being investigated. It would be immensely helpful if you could launch your own 'attack' on the Minister as soon as possible. Right now, he's focusing on impeding our work, but if you start turning the public against him-"

"He'll be trapped between us," Ron nodded in understanding. "Speak to your Aurors, Madam Bones, and tell them to come forward."

"Many are out in the field right now," Madam Bones told him. "But I will get the word out discretely. Go to St. Mungo's on Monday, and find Gawain Robards. He'll be on guard duty after midday, and he will give you what you need."

"He'll be guarding the Headmaster?" Ron asked out of curiosity.

"Yes," Madam Bones replied, and then she looked down at her pocket watch. "I have to get back to the Ministry…"

"Thank you," Ron put his hand forward.

"No, Ronald… I should be thanking you," Madam Bones gave him a firm handshake. "We will speak again when I am able. Goodbye."

"Take care," Ron took a step back, and Madam Bones cracked out of sight. I need to get in touch with Marietta, Jack, and Timothy. Oh, and I should tell Gornuk to hurry up with Greta's application. I want to hit Fudge where it hurts as soon as humanly possible.

Ron turned back to head towards Mary, but he stopped when he saw the Greengrass Matriarch clutching a crying Vivian against her bosom. The tiny girl was hysterical, but Mary would not let her look at her father's corpse being carried away by Aunt Muriel's workers.

Ron drew in a deep breath, deciding to offer his condolences before Vivian was shipped off to some orphanage. I'll see her at Hogwarts, I hope. She was brave to come looking for me, so I reckon she'll be in Gryffindor. As he neared Vivian and Mary, Aunt Muriel cut across and stepped in his way.

"Go home, Ronald," Aunt Muriel said, a certain finality to her voice.

"What?" Ron blinked. "No… I want to keep helping-"

Aunt Muriel put her bony hand on his shoulder, and she gave it a soft squeeze.

"Go home," Aunt Muriel repeated. "That girl doesn't need your condolences right now, and I'm worried about your health. No child should have to see this sort of ugly business." I've been seeing it since I was eight. "Let Greengrass take care of the girl, you've already done more than enough."

Ron shot another look at Vivian, and then he let out a resigned sigh. What would I even say?

"I'll head back to the tent instead," Ron said. "Plenty of work left to be done."

Severus Snape's POV

Saturday 6th February, 1994 (Snape's Office – Late Evening)

It had been another tiring day for Snape, and now that he was finally back at Hogwarts, he wanted nothing more than to drink a goblet of wine and rest his eyes.

With the right potions, and a lot of Spellwork, Snape and Poppy had managed to heal Albus' extensive injuries. They had even brought the old man to a semiconscious state for a couple of minutes, but it was deemed too dangerous to keep him awake during his recovery.

The Healers of St. Mungo's were blown away by Snape's talent in Potion Making, even offering him a job as the Head of Potion Brewing at St. Mungo's should he lose interest in teaching. This was no doubt due to Poppy's exaggeration of Snape's work, but nonetheless, Snape was considering the offer.

Maybe if he survived the war, he'd finally have the opportunity to get away from the imbeciles who constantly failed his classes. Survive the war… No, that's not going to happen. I should just decline the offer.

Just as Snape began writing a letter of refusal, there was a knock on his door. The imbeciles are here. Perfect.

"Come in," Snape ordered, and the Silver Triumvirate made their way inside. "What brings you three here?"

"There was an incident in the common room today, Sir," Carey reported, and Snape looked up from his letter.

"Go on," Snape whispered icily.

"Marcus Flint punched Theodore Nott after a verbal altercation," Carey went on. "Theodore struck his head on the floor and was left with a mild concussion."

Snape drew in a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ron will murder Flint for this.

"And where were you three during this spat?" Snape demanded.

"Clara stepped in before things got further out of hand, Sir," Carey replied, and Snape looked in Clara's direction.

"Who started it?" Snape asked.

"Flint and his Quidditch Team, Sir," Clara replied. "They have been getting progressively bolder with their threats and unpleasantness."

"Are you three not second only to me?" Snape asked them. "Why have you not stopped this behaviour?" Clever, but cowardly. I should straighten them out before they show their true colours to the Order, and in the process, jeopardize the positions of future Slytherin recruits.

"You asked us to apologize and make peace with Flint, Sir," Samantha reminded him.

"And have you apologized and made peace?" Snape asked in response, he already knew the answer.

"Not yet, Sir," Carey tensed a little; Snape's gaze was far too intimidating. "Ronald is the one who has wronged Flint the most, and we are waiting for him to return-"

"You want him to apologize and make peace on your behalf?" Snape cut in. "I told you three to do it as well, not just Ron." Snape then slowly stood up, his eye fixed on the Triumvirate. "Has it occurred to you that Flint's behaviour jeopardizes our plans for the Order? If he continues to get away with his boorish habits, then the younger Slytherins will take after him. Ron has worked very hard to limit the influence of Blood-Supremacy within Slytherin, but he's not here right now. You three are. Each of you is intelligent enough to understand this without me having to lecture you, and yet, you have made no moves to stop Flint. Why?"

The Triumvirate exchanged slow looks, but none of them answered.

"I'll tell you why, then," Snape sneered. "You are cowards. I have watched you three for years, and in that time, I have never seen any of you take a firm stance on anything. You use your beauty to entice others into doing your bidding, and whenever push comes to shove, you three wash your hands of any responsibility. You're just like the fools at the Ministry, only caring about what you get out of any given situation. Now, I have tolerated your behaviour over the years because it had nothing to do with me, but now, you three are a part of the Order, and many will look to you three to prove Slytherin's worth. As it stands, I am not convinced that Ron and I made the right choice by selecting you."

Snape then moved around his desk, slowly limping over to Carey. The blonde shrunk a little, lowering her gaze as Snape's residual Magic lowered the room's temperature.

"Do something about Flint, or I will let Ron teach you three a lesson," Snape whispered dangerously. "Unlike me, he won't just lecture you, he'll break every bone in your body. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir…" Carey swallowed thickly.

"Get out of my Office, and don't come back unless you have results," Snape hissed.

The Triumvirate wasted no time in running away, leaving Snape with a bad taste in his mouth. I need to take care of this before Ron gets back. I can't guarantee their safety if he learns that his friend was attacked by Flint on the Triumvirate's watch.

Sebastian Greengrass' POV

Saturday 6th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Dinner)

He was still recovering from his conversation with Ron…

Sebastian had always considered himself to be an intelligent man, but right now, for the first time in a long time, he was questioning his intelligence. Ron was an unknown variable, and Sebastian had welcomed this unknown variable into his home. And not only that, but Sebastian had allowed this unknown variable to win his eldest daughter's heart.

How long had this boy been hiding his true self from the world? How long had this boy been so twisted? How did no one notice the darkness this boy held within his heart? How did Albus Dumbledore fail to notice someone like the Dark Lord strutting around Hogwarts?

Did Molly and Arthur know that their son was a monster?

No… How could they have? They had barely noticed this boy until he had broken free from their hold.

Ron was clearly a better liar than most, and if his own words were to be believed, he was also ruthless enough to murder and cover his tracks. This boy had used his own stomach ulcer as an alibi… He had fooled everyone, including Sebastian, and no one had questioned him.

A part of Sebastian wanted to get rid of Ron as soon as possible… And yet, a larger part of him wanted to shelter Ron.

Why?

Because Ron was his son, and Sebastian always put his family first.

"Love? You're not eating either?" Mary whispered, gently squeezing his arm.

Sebastian's eyes darted towards Ron once again; the boy was just staring at his untouched plate. Look at him, Sebastian… That's someone who is mourning the death of a stranger. Clearly, he's nothing like the Dark Lord-

"Sebastian?" Mary shook him lightly, giving him a concerned look.

"I'm not hungry," Sebastian said, shooting his wife a weak smile. My wife is sitting a foot away from someone who could potentially kill us both. What am I supposed to do about this?

"I can understand why Ron is so shaken, but what happened to you?" Mary whispered. I had a conversation with the Devil…

Sebastian shot Ron another look, the boy looked utterly hopeless.

"Because monsters deserve death," Ron's voice rang in Sebastian's head. "I will become the monster who hunts other monsters, and once I'm done with them, I'll turn my wrath upon myself. Once I'm gone, the world will finally be a better place." Not the Devil, but not an Angel either. Ron is… something else…

"Ron, love, why don't you have a small bite?" Mary turned her attention towards Ron.

"Which orphanage will Vivian be sent to?" Ron asked, not moving an inch.

"My husband and I sponsor one in Wales," Mary replied, nudging Sebastian under the table. "We will make sure that she's well looked after, Ron, I promise. She'll want for nothing."

"Except her father," Ron said, a familiar rage dancing behind his eyes. "May I please be excused? I'm not hungry, and it's been a long day."

"Go on, Ron," Sebastian said, and Mary gave him a troubled look.

Ron got up and left the room, his shoulders sagging and his head bowed. Definitely not a Devil. He's genuinely bothered by the suffering of others, a trait that I don't have. Is his darkness only reserved for his enemies? How did he even become like this? What the fuck did I miss?!

"Sebastian," Mary shook him again. "Love, you are beginning to frighten me. Tell me what's happened? Did you two have an argument?"

"What? No, of course not," Sebastian took Mary's hand. "We did not fight, Mary. I'm just… upset… that Ron saw something so terrible today." Even if it's not the first corpse he's seen.

Mary features softened at that, and she pulled up his hand and kissed his knuckles.

"Did you speak to Molly and Arthur before heading out to Diagon Alley?" Sebastian asked.

"Oh, I did," Mary replied, looking a little troubled again. "Ron was… very cruel to them…"

"How so?" Sebastian asked immediately. He didn't hurt them, did he?

"He dragged Pandora and Molly all over England as he ran his 'errands'," Mary sighed out. "He screamed and yelled in their faces, threatened them whenever they begged to leave, and he even threatened to hurt his own father…" Sweet Merlin, I've always thought that Ron was just a troubled young man due to his high intellect, but clearly, something far more sinister is at play. "Molly said that Ron sounded very bitter about everything, almost unhinged… But… She also said that she understood why he did what he did."

"I beg your pardon?" Sebastian cocked an eyebrow. "She understood why he threatened her? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Molly said that he was trying to show them 'his world'…" Mary shook her head. "She wasn't exactly making any sense, Sebastian, but I got the impression that whatever he showed her had a profound impact on her."

"Molly and Pandora were at the camp yesterday," Sebastian remembered, and then it all clicked. "He wanted to show them that his cold, ruthless demeanour does more good than harm… He wanted to show them that he's making the world a better place."

"Once I'm gone, the world will finally be a better place," Ron's voice rang in Sebastian's head once again. Ron… What happened to you? Are you really still planning to commit suicide?

"Not until my work is done," Sebastian heard Ron's voice. What fucking work?! What is your goal?!

Sebastian felt his head throb; he was never going to figure Ronald Weasley out without Ronald Weasley's help. I can't let him go about this on his own. He's young, passionate, and prone to trusting the good in others. Just look at the mess that the Abadies made for all of us… He trusted them simply because they're a minority, and that allowed Yaxley to empower his friends and allies. If I don't help him, then who will? Arthur? Molly? Sirius? No… Ron needs me. He needs someone who can teach him-

"Sebastian? Are you even listening to me?" Mary asked, and Sebastian shook his head clear.

"I'm sorry, beloved… I think I need some sleep," Sebastian all but whispered, and then he got out of his chair. "It's been a long day."

"Are you hiding something from me?" Mary asked. "You don't have to tell me, of course, but if we're in danger, then let me help you, husband." Are we in danger?

Sebastian shot a quick look at Ron's untouched plate, and he had his answer. He couldn't bring himself to take even one bite.

"We're not in any danger," Sebastian said. "I promise."

Sunday 7th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Early Morning)

"Sebastian?" came Mary's sleepy voice.

"I'm over here," Sebastian replied, he was standing by the window that gave him a perfect view of the gardens.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Mary sat up, rubbing her eyes clear. "What time is it?"

"The sun is only just rising," Sebastian replied, his eyes fixed on Ron. He's been training for nearly two hours now, but he just won't stop. Doesn't he get tired?

"What are you looking at?" Mary slipped out of bed and made her way over to the window. "Is… Is that Ron? What's he doing out of bed at this hour?"

Sebastian and Mary quietly watched Ron; the young wizard was practising combining his Spells in a fluid manner. The Aurors call this technique 'Chaining', if I'm remembering right. He's faster than I am, even I can see that.

"How long has he been exercising?" Mary whispered, noticing how sweaty Ron was.

"Nearly two hours now," Sebastian replied. "I overheard him, but I didn't have the heart to ask him to stop."

"It must be freezing out there," Mary shot Sebastian a disapproving look.

"I don't think he cares much about that," Sebastian replied, he couldn't deny that he was quite impressed by his apprentice's determination. "Look at him, Mary… Last night, he couldn't bring himself to eat, but now, he's not letting anything stop him. That right there is a force of nature, and I want to tether the Greengrass name to it."

"Pardon?" Mary blinked. "Husband, you're not making any sense."

"I spent all of last night thinking about Ron's goals, and I couldn't figure them out," Sebastian said. "I'm missing a lot of pieces, and Ron is the only one who can provide me with said pieces. However, from what I've seen so far, I know that he's going to change this country. The Greengrass Family's future must be tied to Ron's plans, or we'll be swept away by the flood."

Sebastian then looked to his wife, a dead serious expression on his face.

"Wake up the servants," Sebastian ordered. "Tell them to set up a feast for breakfast. Make sure that all of the food served adheres to Ron's tastes."

"I understand," Mary said, though she didn't really know what her husband was planning.

Mary put on her gown and made her way out of the room, while Sebastian turned his attention back to Ron. The Gods have gone out of their way to grant me a son, and I will not squander this gift as Arthur has. If his parents can't nurture and support his talents, then I will.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 7th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Morning)

"Finally full?" Mary chuckled, giving Ron a motherly smile as he finished up his eggs. "I must say, it's very refreshing to see a young man with such an appetite. You'll grow up nice and strong, I can already tell."

"Thank you," Ron said politely, the Calming Draught was keeping him focused despite his sore limbs. My forearm is fucking killing me. I need to get my hands on some Pain-Relief Potion. "Mary, do you happen to have some Pain-Relief Potion in the house?"

"Are you hurt, Ron?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"My arm hurts from duelling practise," Ron replied. Holding my wand is more painful than getting Hexed. What am I going to do about this injury? I should see a Healer, but not Madam Pomfrey. She'll tell the Professors, or worse, my parents.

"Servants," Lord Greengrass called, and two Elves appeared immediately. "Bring Ron some Pain-Relief Potion from your Mistress' stores."

"At once, Master," the older Elf said, and then they both cracked out of the room. No questions asked, eh? And he arranged a feast of my favourite foods for breakfast. He wants something from me.

Ron said nothing; he wasn't in the mood to entertain Lord Greengrass' games right now. I have more important matters to attend to. Best to just be grateful and not ask any questions.

The old Elf suddenly appeared beside Ron, offering him a vial filled with a slimy, pink potion.

"For Master Weasley," the old Elf bowed as Ron took the potion.

"Thank you," Ron said gratefully. I hope this works, because if it doesn't, then I'm going to have to put up with this pain all day.

The Elf gave another bow before cracking out of the room, and Ron couldn't help but note how overly respectful the Greengrass Elves were being to him. He even called me Master Weasley. Not sure how I feel about this, but for now, I'll just ignore it.

"Don't drink it all at once, Ron," Mary advised. "The Pain-Relief Potion doesn't only lessen one's pain, but it also numbs other sensations. Drink too much, and you might even lose your ability to taste for the day."

Ron opened the vial and drank down half of the slimy potion; it tasted like nothing at all, however, the texture nearly made Ron gag. Ugh… It's like I just drank down a vial of snot. Ron pocketed the remainder of the potion for later consumption, just in case the pain in his forearm lingered.

"Thank you for the breakfast," Ron moved out of his chair, fixing his suit into place. "I won't be around for the day, but I should be back in time for dinner."

"May I ask where you're going?" Lord Greengrass inquired.

"I need to go to Gringotts first, and after that, I'll be at The Leaky Cauldron," Ron replied.

"The Leaky Cauldron?" Mary asked. "What could you possibly need to do there?"

"Marietta Angel lives in Muggle London, and I need to speak to her about The Quibbler," Ron replied, and Mary immediately looked concerned about him traveling on his own. "A fast owl should reach her within the hour." I'll leave that to Gornuk, though I should ask Marty to send Helios to me. I completely forgot about him due to how hectic everything's been.

"Is there anything that we can do to help?" Lord Greengrass asked. Actually, yes, you can.

"The Werewolf Sanctuary needs security," Ron said, and Lord Greengrass leaned forward in his chair. "I'd appreciate it if you could get in touch with some wands for hire."

"You want to hire a Private Magical Force to protect the Werewolves?" Lord Greengrass questioned. "Many of these organizations are filled with mercenaries, Ron… Unsavoury people. Is this a wise move?"

"The Dark Lord will come for the Werewolves, and I want him to be greeted by wizards who know how to fight back," Ron replied. "The Werewolves themselves are uneducated, and most of them don't even have wands. I'm not planning to bring the Werewolves together for the Dark Lord's sake, I want to give them a home where they can feel safe."

"Then I will reach out to a particularly skilled group from Germany," Lord Greengrass said. "Give me a few days, and be ready to pay a small fortune."

"Thank you, my Lord," Ron said, and then he turned around to leave. "Have a nice day, and stay safe."

Sunday 7th February, 1994 (Gringotts Bank - Morning)

"Nice ring, Gornuk," Ron said as he sat down, the pain in his forearm was finally gone. Though, I feel a bit woozy. Is it because I've taken three different potions on the same day? Probably. Professor Snape did warn us about the dangers of mixing ingredients.

"It is rather pretty, is it not?" Gornuk grinned down at his new obsidian ring. "Once again, thank you for your generosity, Lord Weasley."

"You've done very well in my absence," Ron said truthfully. "You deserve to be rewarded for it."

"Thank you," Gornuk looked rather proud of himself. "What can I do for you today, Lord Weasley?"

"I have a few requests, actually," Ron started, and Gornuk pulled out some parchment to take notes. "First, I want you to open seven new accounts under these names; William Arthur Weasley, Charles Weasley, Percy Ignatius Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginevra Molly Weasley, and Luna Lovegood. After these accounts have been opened, I want you to move one thousand Galleons to each account from my personal vault."

"I can get this done by the afternoon, Lord Weasley," Gornuk kept scribbling. "If you come back after lunch, I can hand you the keys to the new vaults."

"Brilliant," Ron gave a nod. "Now, my second request… I need to write a will, and I'm not sure how to go about doing that. Is it something that you can help me with?"

"Certainly, though you are a little too young for such a grim task, are you not?" Gornuk asked.

"I almost got beheaded in the street not three weeks ago," Ron said dully.

"Point taken," Gornuk reached into his drawers and pulled out a stack of paperwork. What the fuck? Am I writing a will, or one of Professor Binns' essays? "Under Magical Law, you must follow a certain process for your will to be considered valid. I can help you understand this process, if you wish."

"Please do," Ron took the stack of paperwork, his eyes scanning the legal documents. I guess it won't be as simple as writing down some instructions.

"The most important thing is that you'll need three witnesses, who will also need to sign the will," Gornuk instructed. "These witnesses can range from family, friends, and even acquaintances. Furthermore, you'll need to use the same Magically Binding Quill when you all sign the will, and once that is done, the Chief Manager of Gringotts will also use the very same Quill to bind Gringotts in carrying out your will after you are gone."

"And I won't get cheated, will I?" Ron asked.

"Once the Chief Manager of Gringotts signs the will, all employees of Gringotts, present or future, are Magically Bound to carry out the will," Gornuk replied. "No one, and I mean no one, would dare break such a contract."

"Good," Ron gave a nod. "What else do I have to do?"

"Since you don't have any children, the guidelines I've just given you are all that you need to worry about," Gornuk replied. "Gringotts will serve as the executor of your will, while your witnesses will serve as proof that you wrote the will under your own free will."

"Do you have a spare Magically Binding Quill?" Ron asked, and Gornuk quickly produced one from his desk.

"We have hundreds in Gringotts, so you can have this one," Gornuk offered, and Ron accepted.

"Thank you," Ron said, packing the documents and the quill inside a nearby empty folder. "I'll have this done by the end of the month." I need to take my time with this, and make sure that I don't leave anything out.

"Will there be anything else, Lord Weasley?" Gornuk asked.

"I need you to owl the advertisement firm for me," Ron replied. "Tell them that Marietta Angel will be sending over some work very soon, and that I want every European Wizarding Family to get a copy of her article."

"Every European Family?" Gornuk blinked. "That will be expensive, Lord Weasley."

"We have plenty of money, and if the Daily Prophet can send an emergency warning to every family, then so can we," Ron said. "This needs to happen twice, by the way. Once for Marietta's article, and once of Greta's article."

"Miss. Thornburg's paperwork is still being processed," Gornuk reminded Ron.

"Get in touch with her today, and tell her to meet me at St. Mungo's tomorrow near midday," Ron instructed. "She specializes in Ministry affairs, does she not?"

"She does," Gornuk wrote everything down.

"Then I need to meet her as soon as possible," Ron said. Marietta will introduce the Werewolf Sanctuary, while Greta will build a case against the Ministry's corruption. First, I'll distract the Ministry with the Werewolf Sanctuary, and while they focus on trying to shut me down and deal with Madam Bones' investigation, I'll air their dirty laundry to all of Europe. Fudge will be left overwhelmed and crippled.

"Anything else, Lord Weasley?" Gornuk asked, looking up from his instructions.

"Two more things," Ron said. "I need you to send Marietta an owl, your fastest one. Tell her to meet me at The Leaky Cauldron for lunch."

"And the other?" Gornuk asked.

"Hire some Elves for our Offices," Ron stood up, tucking the folder into his suit. "I want The Quibbler to start publishing soon, and we need to get our house in order."

"Consider it done," Gornuk wrote that down as well.

"I'll see you after lunch, Gornuk," Ron said as he left the tiny office, closing the door behind him.

"Ron," came Bill's voice, he was leaning against the wall not too far from Gornuk's office. "A word?"

"Were you waiting out here for me?" Ron looked around, making sure that they were alone. No parents lying in wait… Good. Can't afford to slow down.

"You need to come home," Bill said, a scolding undertone in his voice. "And you need to apologize to mum and dad."

"I have a busy schedule today," Ron began walking, gesturing Bill to follow him. "Say what you plan to say, and then go back to your work."

"Merlin, you've turned into a rotten piece of shit, Ron," Bill said, but Ron wasn't fazed by it. It's not like he's lying. "I don't know what happened to you, but I just don't care anymore. We all wanted to be there for you after you tried…" he trailed off.

"I know what I did, Bill, and I know how wrong it was," Ron said. "There's no need to hide your anger about it."

"Stop," Bill stepped into Ron's way, making sure not to touch him. "I don't want to do this here, but you'll just run out on me if I don't, so, here I go… After what you did, we all decided to help you through it, and for a while, I thought we were making progress… But then, out of nowhere, you just went mental. You dragged mum and Pandora, a pregnant woman, all over England, and from what they've told me, you tormented them for your own amusement-"

"My amusement?" Ron asked with a furrowed brow. "I showed them why I needed to continue my work-"

"What fucking work?" Bill hissed, and then he immediately drew in a sharp breath. "Sorry… Just… Just give me a second." No. This time, you listen to me.

"Have you not stepped outside this bank?" Ron asked, and Bill just stared at him. "A man died in front of me yesterday, and he left a daughter behind."

"What?" Bill blinked, looking visibly stunned.

"There are people dying right outside your workplace, and yet, you just don't care," Ron said, feeling genuinely disappointed with his eldest brother. "I've always looked up to you, Bill… Always. I thought that you were perfect, and that you could do no wrong. Mum and dad certainly painted you that way, but now that I've seen a bit more of the world, I've realized that you're only perfect in their eyes, and they only feel that way because you just do as you're told. The one time you disobeyed them, and got yourself a job in Egypt, they spent a month fighting with you."

"What are you trying to say?" Bill asked.

"I'm saying that you're a good son," Ron replied. "But you're also a shitty person."

"What…?"

"There are people dying right outside your workplace," Ron repeated. "Do you know who's helping them? Me." Ron then took a step forward, locking eyes with Bill. "Because of me, those people have warm clothes and full bellies. The Ministry destroyed hundreds of lives, leaving widows and orphans in their wake. I decided to step up and help those who couldn't help themselves, while you take the floo home so you don't have to look at a bunch of dying 'criminals'."

"This is not your burden to bear, though," Bill tried. "For Merlin's sake, Ron… You're sick, and you need help. This lifestyle that you're chasing after is killing you, but no matter what we say, you just don't seem to understand. We want to protect you! Why can't you understand that?!"

"And I want to protect others," Ron said calmly. "Why can't you understand that?"

Bill rubbed his face harshly, letting out a frustrated groan.

"What am I supposed to say to you?" Bill asked. "I've tried everything… I've been patient, I've been kind, I've been helpful, and I've even lied for you. I know that you're on some potion right now-"

"It's the Calming Draught," Ron told his brother. "And I'm on it because I'm scared of what I'll do to myself if I'm not."

"Wait… What do you mean by that?" Bill asked quickly.

"I don't want to live, Bill," Ron shrugged, and the colour drained from Bill's face. "I'm done with all of it… This terrible world. The terrible people inside this world. The constant pain I'm in. The loneliness and stress that constantly eat away at my mind. All of it. I'm done."

Bill just stared at Ron; slack jawed and unmoving.

"The only reason why I didn't steal your wand in the night and end my miserable life is because I'm still needed," Ron went on. "I have to keep going, not for my sake but for the sake of others. That's why I'm still here. I have to make sure that, once I'm gone, the world is a better place to live in. That's just who I am, and I'm done apologizing for it."

"And before you start on me for saying those harsh things to dad," Ron continued. "Just remember what you and Charlie did the moment you two graduated."

"What… What did we do?" Bill asked.

"You left," Ron replied. "You both packed up your things, and you both left the country. You went to Egypt, while Charlie went to Romania. You couldn't wait to leave The Burrow behind, and I know why."

"Why…?" Bill muttered; his head felt like it was underwater.

"You wanted more," Ron replied, and Bill averted his gaze a little. "I'm not shaming you for that, Bill. There is nothing wrong with wanting more. We grew up in poverty, and wanting to escape poverty is not a shameful thing, even if mum and dad tell you that it is. They convinced us that ambition was poison, and that we all needed was to be 'humble' and 'good'. But what 'good' do they do in this world? What 'good' do you do? I'm a 'rotten piece of shit', no doubt about that, but I'm still trying to put others before my own needs. Yeah, I have to be cold, and even cruel, at certain times, but that enables me to help a lot of people. I don't plan to change, nor do I plan to blindly follow my parents' mistakes and end up like them."

"You weren't like this before…" Bill managed. "You didn't feel ashamed to be a Weasley…"

"Weasley… I used to think that being a Weasley made me a good person," Ron said distantly. "But now, I realize that Corban Yaxley probably thinks of himself as a good person simply because he's a Yaxley. Similarly, Lucius Malfoy thinks that he's a good person simply because he was born a Malfoy." Ron then put his hands on Bill's arms, giving him a gentle squeeze. "A name doesn't make you good, big brother, because everyone is the hero of his or her story. This sort of thinking is foolish because the truth is that there is no good and evil; there is only power, and those too weak to seek it."

Ron then smiled, his cold eyes digging into Bill's frightened ones.

"I am no longer weak, and because of that, the weak are no longer powerless," Ron whispered. "Mum and dad are just as prejudiced as the Sacred Twenty Eight, the only difference is that they hold different beliefs. I have no use for such a mentality. I judge people by their actions, and I act in a manner that feels right to my heart. If I see a Pure-Blood attacking a defenceless Muggle-Born, then I'll break that Pure-Blood in two. And if I see a Muggle-Born hurting a defenceless Pure-Blood, then I'll break that Muggle-Born in two. My enemy isn't Blood-Supremacy anymore, my true enemy is injustice."

"How did…? When did you start thinking like this…?" Bill swallowed thickly, and Ron's grip tightened on Bill's arms.

"I have suffered so much pain in my short life, and because of that, all I see is pain," Ron replied. "The pain of the oppressed. The pain of the neglected. The pain of the innocent. The pain caused by an uncaring and unjust world."

Ron let go of his pale and trembling brother, and then he began to walk away.

"My world is a broken place, and I have made it my mission to put it back together," Ron said before he left Bill behind. "No one is more important than the mission, Bill. No one. The mission is all that matters."

Sunday 7th February, 1994 (The Leaky Cauldron – Lunchtime)

"More sweetened water, Ron?" Tom walked over with a silver pitcher.

"Thanks, Tom," Ron accepted, he was still waiting on Marietta. How long does it take for an owl to cross Diagon Alley and enter Muggle London? I've been sitting here for nearly two hours.

Ron had helped out at the camp for a while, and around midday, he had made his way over to The Leaky Cauldron. Tom was a gracious host, and he had allowed Ron to wait on a free table, even keeping him refreshed with free sweetened water all the while.

"Are you sure that you don't want payment?" Ron asked once again.

"No, I could never," Tom shot Ron a kind smile. Really? Why? What do you want from me? "What you're doing for those poor bastards out there… As far as I'm concerned, you don't need to pay a single Knut here. Ever." Oh…

"Um… Thank you," Ron didn't know what else to say.

"Let me know if you get hungry, okay?" Tom asked.

"I will," Ron managed a half-smile.

Tom gave him a firm nod, and then he returned to his other patrons. Ron quietly observed his surroundings, and he realized that people were shooting him quick looks and discussing him in hushed whispers. Word must be spreading thanks to Aunt Muriel and Lady Longbottom… Damn, so much for going unnoticed. Ron lowered his gaze and went back to enjoying his sweetened water, all the while practising his wand movements under the table. With the Pain-Relief Potion, I can hold my wand properly again, but I still feel lightheaded. I can't be compromised like this… Which means that I need to stop taking the Calming Draught. From today on, I'll keep lowering the dosage until I can use my Occlumency to stay in control.

"Boss?!" came Marietta's voice, and as soon as Ron looked up, she came running over and pulled his head into a warm embrace. What the fuck? Get off me. "You're safe!"

"Let go of my head," Ron ordered, and she quickly remembered that he was her employer.

"Sorry… I've been so worried about you, that's all," Marietta chuckled nervously; she looked like she had come right out of a shower.

"Is it raining in Muggle London?" Ron asked.

"Oh… Um… No, it isn't," she spoke in her usual frazzled manner. "I got the owl from Mr. Gornuk, so I quickly had a shower and Apparated down here."

"Take a seat, please," Ron gestured, and she did as she was told. "How have you been?"

"How have I been?" Marietta blinked. "Forget about me, boss, tell me about you. Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I do, which is why I called you here," Ron replied in his monotone voice. "The Werewolf Sanctuary is nearly complete-"

"Really?!" Marietta's face split into a smile.

"Don't interrupt me," Ron frowned a little. "And keep your voice down, please. I don't want the wrong sort to overhear us."

"Sorry," she let out another nervous chuckle.

"I need you to start writing a new article about the Werewolves," Ron said, and Marietta pulled out a notepad and a Muggle pen. "Something very similar to what you showed me when I first met you."

"Do you want me to talk about the sanctuary as well?" Marietta whispered.

"I do," Ron gave a nod, noticing that Tom was walking over again. "Hold on for a second."

"Marietta?" Tom gave the young Muggle-Born a confused smile. Is she a regular here?

"Good afternoon, Tom," Marietta greeted back.

Tom shook his head clear, and then gave them both a smile.

"Can I get you two some food?" Tom asked them.

"I'll have the usual," Marietta replied.

"I'll have the pork chops, the mushroom salad, and a fish pie," Ron said, and Tom let out a chuckle as he wrote it all down.

"I'll get started on your orders immediately," Tom gave Ron a pat on the back, causing Ron to tense a little. Calm, Ron… Stay calm. You've already looked around for danger, and everything seems in order.

"You eat a lot," Marietta noted as Tom left. "But then again, you're a growing boy. I mean… You're a growing boss… I mean-"

"Stop, and relax," Ron said, and Marietta's face flushed from embarrassment. "Are you always this nervous?"

"Only when I shouldn't be," Marietta sighed out. Maybe I'm the one making her nervous because of the Calming Draught?

"Let's just get back to business, and then we can have some lunch and catch up," Ron tried a gentler tone, and she gave a weak smile and a nod. "Right… So, as I was saying, I want you to report on the sanctuary. Or rather, I want you to promote it."

"Can I go there first?" Marietta asked. "To have a look around?"

"Of course," Ron replied. "It's located in Kent, and it's called Prosperity Farm."

"Really?" Marietta muttered under her breath. "A bit on the nose, isn't it?"

"Apparently, Lord Fawley is not skilled at giving names," Ron shrugged. "Either way, just head down there and find him. He'll show you around."

"What's it like?" Marietta asked out of curiosity. "Will the Werewolves like it?"

"I think they're going to love it," Ron smiled a little. "It's beautiful, Marietta, and I won't lie to you; a part of me wants to move down there myself." I'd love to have a cottage to myself by the shimmering blue lake. That would be so peaceful.

"Really?" she smiled fully again, giving Ron a proud look.

"What's with that look?" Ron asked slowly.

"Nothing… You're just a great kid, boss," Marietta replied. "Wait… No… I meant that you're a great young man, boss…" Merlin, someone get her a Calming Draught.

"I didn't do much," Ron admitted. "Lord Fawley took care of all of the work while I was…" he trailed off. While I was getting tortured by an Old God… Someone should write a book about my life. It'd be an interesting read, that's for certain.

Marietta lost her smile quickly, and then she reached over and gave his gloved hand a squeeze. Ron felt the urge to yank his hand away, but thanks to the Calming Draught, he was able to remain in control. Just be ready if she tries something, Ron.

"Is there any word about your friend?" Marietta whispered. "Is she going to recover?"

"I have no idea," Ron replied, deciding not to give any details. Don't trust her, she sleeps with Barnabas Cuffe.

"Well, I hope that she does recover," Marietta gave his hand another squeeze. "She's a brave girl, and a truly loyal friend."

"Thank you," Ron said faintly. "Can we talk about something else? I don't want to discuss Tracey."

"Oh… Of course," Marietta said, backing off immediately. "Actually, there is a matter that I wanted to discuss with you…"

"What is it?" Ron asked, slowly pulling his gloved hand back. She was holding my wand hand down. Can't keep taking that risk.

"Knockturn Alley," Marietta said, her eyes darting towards the exit leading into Diagon Alley. "I want to cover it."

"I already have someone in mind for that," Ron told her.

"Who?" Marietta looked a bit confused.

"An employee Gornuk hired in my absence," Ron replied. "Greta Thornburg."

"I know that name…" Marietta whispered to herself, she looked to be remembering something.

"You do?" Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"She was a journalist from the Daily Prophet," Marietta remembered. "She got accused of trying to weaken the Minister's authority by spreading lies and controversy… Rita Skeeter destroyed her career within a few articles. No one in Magical Britain has heard from her since." Rita Skeeter, the same witch who is currently discrediting Fudge on the orders of Lucius Malfoy. Corruption everywhere, and honest folk are drowning in it. "Even the Daily Prophet denounced her, it was a pretty big story when I was still attending Ilvermorny."

"Well, I plan to put her in charge of the 'Ministry Affairs' section," Ron told Marietta. "She'll cover the raid, the aftermath, and all the parties involved in this disaster. I want you to stay focused on the Werewolves, because even as we speak, hundreds of them are coming down here to find safety and security. The Ministry will no doubt come for the sanctuary, so I need the public on my side before that happens."

"I understand," Marietta gave a nod. "I won't let you down, boss. I promise."

"Here's your food," came Tom's voice. "And it's on the house."

Sunday 7th February, 1994 (Diagon Alley – Late Afternoon)

"Thank you, young man," the old wizard smiled gratefully, while Ron finished tying up his shoelaces. "My wand was… lost… in the raid, and my back isn't what it used to be."

"It's no worries, Sir," Ron stood back up. "Have you eaten anything today? What about your family?"

"Got no family," the old man replied. "Had one, but they all died in the Great War… It's just me now."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Ron said sympathetically, and the old wizard smiled more fully.

"I was just about to head down for some stew, by the way," the old man told Ron. "Just needed to find the strength to leave this bed of mine."

"Good," Ron couldn't help but feel relieved. "We're trying to organize more food and potions, and hopefully, we'll have everything in order by tomorrow."

The old wizard patted Ron's cheek, giving him a rather paternal smile.

"You're a good lad," the old man said softly. "My son was a lot like you… Always trying to help others. Ended up sheltering some Muggle-Borns in his house, and the Death-Eaters caught up to him… Killed his whole family, even my baby granddaughter… Thank you for letting me see my son again." Huh?

The old man then began limping towards the makeshift eating area, he was clearly too old to be left in the streets. I need to find a place for these people. If it starts raining, they'll start getting sick.

Ron looked around for his allies, and he spotted Sirius entertaining some children not too far from Ron's location. He probably doesn't want to see me after what I said to him, but at least my words left an impact. He's coming here every day, and that's what truly matters.

"Mr. Weasley," came a gruff voice from behind him.

"Yes, can I help you?" Ron asked as turned to face the man. What's he wearing?

"Mr. Solomon would like to see you," the wild haired man said, and Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"He's here?" Ron asked, looking around for the large smuggler.

"He is at The Leaky Cauldron," the wild haired man turned to leave, gesturing Ron to follow him."

"You think I'm just going to go with you?" Ron asked. "How do I know that this isn't a trap?" This could be Lucius Malfoy's man, come back to finish the job.

"Mr. Solomon requests that you don't bring your mask with you this time, he finds it childish," the man kept walking, and Ron remembered how easily Solomon had figured out his identity. That was a truly embarrassing moment. Stupid mask…

Ron decided to follow the man at a distance, his right hand gripping his wand inside his pocket. Keep your eyes open, Ron. If anything is amiss, show them some lightning. With a steady pace, they reached The Leaky Cauldron within minutes, and as they entered the wizard pub; the wild haired man gestured Ron to head upstairs.

"Mr. Solomon is waiting for you," the man instructed.

"What's your name?" Ron asked, stopping at the stairs.

"That does not matter," the man replied.

"I want to remember your name," Ron said, looking back. "If this is a trap, then I'll hunt you to the ends of the Earth. After I kill your fellow assassins, that is."

The man smirked a little, clearly amused by Ron's threat.

"Damien Copper," the man gave his name. "I welcome you to try."

Ron memorized the name, as well as the man's sharp facial features. I won't be forgetting you, 'Damien Copper'. Ron made his way upstairs, taking slow and careful steps. Almost there… As he neared the end of the stairs; he peeked around the corner in order to see if anyone was waiting to ambush him.

Solomon sat in the middle of the lounging area, and opposite him sat Emilia. Thank Merlin… This isn't a trap. Ron relaxed considerably, and he walked around the corner with straight posture.

"Hello," Ron greeted Emilia, and she beckoned him to her.

"I was worried that you wouldn't come," Emilia said as Ron sat down next to her.

"Yes, yes, very worried," Solomon looked Ron over. "Didn't bring his mask, thank fuck… Wouldn't want to be seen in public with you wearing that ridiculous thing." I should've taken more Calming Draught.

"Is everything all right?" Ron asked Emilia, ignoring Solomon. "You look angry."

"My demented uncle has been set loose," Emilia frowned even more deeply. "I am ready to hunt him down, nothing more." Nothing more, my arse. I shouldn't have sat so close to her. If she flies into a rage, and pulls out that sword, I'm a dead man.

"We'll find him, along with the rest," Ron drew in a deep breath, keeping his composure.

"Solomon has offered to help us," Emilia said, and Ron looked towards the large half-troll. "For a price, of course."

"Eyes are not cheap," Solomon grunted. "You want mine, eh? Well, you need to pay for 'em. Simple."

"This hunt benefits us all, Solomon," Emilia said coldly. "You have chosen a side already, and it's time you stop exploiting us."

"The Dark Lord will destroy you as well, just remember that," Ron added. Bloody thief. "You're not human, and the Dark Lord's Loyalists would just love to string you up like some animal."

"Yeah, no… I don't like that much," Solomon leaned back in his chair, his good eye moving between Emilia and Ron. "I've heard all about these Loyalist bastards, and I'm not sending the faithful down for a slaughter. Not for free." Who are these faithful? What's wrong with this cunt?

"Your faithful will die anyway," Emilia said. "Your little circus of Half-Breeds will be first on their list, Solomon. You tried to poison the Dark Lord, remember? Well, he didn't fall for your tricks, which means that he'll be coming for you soon. Enough games, it's time to start acting like partners."

Solomon focused on Emilia, his face pinching as he licked his teeth. Seriously, is he mentally unstable? Solomon suddenly drew in a sharp breath, knocking on the table twice.

"Partners, then, eh?" Solomon put his hand forward.

Ron exchanged a look with Emilia, and she gave him a subtle nod. I'm surrounded by mad fucks, and I'm beginning to feel at home. This'll end well, I'm sure. Ron reached forward and shook Solomon's hand, and then Emilia did the same.

"No one has seen 'em," Solomon started. "They've vanished, they have… The Dark Lord knows how to hide, I'll give him that."

"He wouldn't be staying with any of his followers," Ron gave his theory. "The Aurors would start with known acquaintances, right? My father has no influence within the Ministry, but he's still able to get warrants to check Pure-Blood residences. The Aurors are probably doing regular checks." They might even come looking at Lord Greengrass' manor, though some of them know that he's an Order member now, so he should be safe from prosecution.

"I doubt that the Loyalists are in any shape to fight," Emilia said. "They've been in Azkaban for twelve years now, and from what I've heard, they weren't treated very humanely." Good.

"You're already looking into the break-in?" Ron asked. "What else have you learned about Azkaban?"

"One of their guards went missing days before the break-in," Emilia replied, while Solomon zoned out. "I think this guard told the Dark Lord about Azkaban's defences, and if he did, then this guard is dead by now. The Dark Lord was not known to leave loose ends."

"Knockturn Alley was just the distraction," Ron felt his blood boil. "So many people died…"

"And in doing so, they have made a valuable contribution to our cause," Solomon spoke up. "Knockturn Alley is mine for the taking now, all of it. Eyes and ears everywhere for you, all the gold for me. Fair?"

"My allies and I plan to rebuild it," Ron said. "But you're right, crime will always exist as long as people exist. It would be advantageous if crime was controlled and kept at a certain level." Where there is misery, there is opportunity. Can't afford to make any mistakes, or leave any stone unturned.

"You may have heaven, but leave hell for me," Solomon snorted. "I like this kid now, girl… Glad you found him lurking about in the shadows, the black snake."

Emilia slowly looked Ron over, as if inspecting him. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I want a part of Knockturn Alley as well," Emilia eventually told Ron. "When your allies make their move, come find me." She's been a real help lately, and she definitely has the same ideas as me. She's earned a reward.

"I think that's fair," Ron agreed. "Though, be careful, there is a legislation that was made to keep foreign investors out of Magical Britain."

"You'll need someone to move the money under the table," Solomon scratched his beard. "That'll definitely cost you, I'm sorry."

Emilia gave a nod, deciding that this was a worthy investment.

"Shall we have Firewhiskey to celebrate this union?" Solomon asked. I'd rather not get poisoned.

"Keep your eyes out for the Loyalists, and keep us both posted," Emilia stood up, and Ron followed suit.

"And you send that money through," Solomon gave them dismissive waive.

Ron and Emilia began heading downstairs, with Emilia taking the lead. How does she get to Magical Britain so easily? Probably has some Ministry Official on her payroll. Maybe I should look into that?

"This is far enough," she suddenly stopped, and Ron nearly ran into her back.

"Don't just stop like that," Ron clicked his tongue.

"Here, take this," Emilia handed him an envelope, ignoring his words.

"What is it?" Ron asked, pocketing the envelope quickly.

"A reusable Portkey," Emilia replied. "Use it to stay in contact with me. With the Loyalists free, we need to become more coordinated than ever."

"Smart," Ron smiled in approval. "I have something in the works right now, actually, and I'll let you know if it works out. I'll need some help with-"

"Share the details with me at my manor," Emilia shot a quick look down the stairs. "We can't trust anyone, not anymore. Ian Mulciber was the Dark Lord's Imperius Specialist, and he had half the Ministry under his control during the Great War. There will be spies everywhere before long."

"One person can control that many people's minds?" Ron asked. We should've killed them while we had the chance.

"The Loyalists were practically raised in the Dark Arts by the Dark Lord himself," Emilia whispered. "Each of them is more dangerous than most can comprehend."

"The next time we meet, tell me about them," Ron whispered back, and she gave a nod before continuing on her way. Sirius was going to tell me about them, but I don't think he'll be talking to me anytime soon.

They parted ways as soon as they reached the stairs, with Emilia heading towards the fireplaces and Ron heading towards Diagon Alley. He would wait for Marty to return before he told Emilia of his plan; she would definitely help him with it. I hope we'll get to knock off some names from both of our lists.

As Ron made his way out of The Leaky Cauldron, he spotted a large, black dog staring at him from a nearby stand. It was odd to see an animal running around Diagon Alley given its current state, and Ron found himself staring back at it. It looks like a stray. I wonder if this dog was caught up in the raid.

The black dog suddenly turned around and ran off into a back alley, disappearing from sight. Did I spook it? Whatever… It was just a dog.

Lucius Malfoy's POV

Sunday 7th February, 1994 (Yaxley Manor – Evening)

"Another glass?" Corban asked, and Lucius gave him a nod.

Corban poured two more glasses of Firewhiskey, which he then brought over to the coffee table. Lucius took his in hand, quickly taking a swig from the cold glass. I think I'm ready to beg now… This is what I've been reduced to…

"Why the sudden visit, Lucius?" Corban asked from behind his glass. "And when was the last time you slept? You're beginning to look like you did during the last war."

"My manor is too empty… I can't sleep there," Lucius admitted, and Corban cocked an eyebrow.

"Do you require a room? I can have one prepared for you," Corban offered.

"I would rather be at the Dark Lord's side again," Lucius said, taking another sip. "Every day I am not, I lose his favour."

"Your work with Fudge has pleased him greatly," Corban informed Lucius. "And with our brothers and sister liberated, our Lord is drinking from victory's cup. He is no longer angry with you, Lucius, and he has even praised you to me. You have my word."

"Why does he not summon me, then?" Lucius asked; feeling a little agitated. Cornelius and I found him, not you, Corban. Why are you so favoured?

"I don't know," Corban replied calmly. "Do you want me to speak to him on your behalf the next time he summons me?"

"Yes," Lucius replied shortly.

"Cornelius wants the same," Corban said. "Why should I endorse you both?"

"I have no patience for these games, Corban," Lucius leaned forward, resisting the urge to hurl his glass at Corban's smug face. "My wife and son are prisoners, and without the Dark Lord's aid, I can't set them free. Severus, the traitor, is no doubt keeping Draco under his control, and only the Gods know where Narcissa is. We are a Pure Family, underserving of this! Aren't we?!"

Corban drew in a deep breath, keeping his gaze locked onto Lucius'.

"Draco is just a boy, Corban," Lucius added, hoping to adhere to Corban's strong beliefs.

"You are right," Corban said suddenly, looking a little distant. "I will try and get an audience soon, Narcissa and Draco don't deserve to live such lives."

"Give me your word," Lucius requested, some calm returning to his mind.

"You have it," Corban said. "Continue avoiding Fudge in the meantime, his popularity is reaching an all time low already. Our Lord has no use for such a damaged puppet."

Corban then gestured to the door.

"And find yourself a room on the second floor," Corban added. "You will not survive for long in your current state, and we've lost enough Pure Blood already."

Lucius gave a nod, accepting the offer out of desperation. He could only hope for some much-needed sleep in his current state. I'll only return to the manor once I get Narcissa and Draco back. Everything will be all right when I have them at my side once again.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 8th February, 1994 (St. Mungo's - Midday)

Ron sat in the waiting room, trying very hard to not think about Tracey.

She was so close right now, and something about that scared Ron. He didn't want to see her, not in her current state. It would drive him insane, and he would start making mistakes again. It would remind him of what he had done to her, and Ron wasn't strong enough to handle that right now.

Where was Greta Thornburg? Did Gornuk's owl not reach her in time? What was he supposed to do if she didn't arrive?

Ron began to grit his teeth, his hands trembling a little. I need the Calming Draught! I'm losing it! He quickly pulled out the full vial, opening it and taking a reserved sip. Too much will make me woozy, and that could get me killed. Have to stay aware.

The cool liquid calmed his mind a little, and Ron realized that he had forgotten to breathe. He began taking in long breaths, hoping to regain himself before someone took notice.

"Mr. Weasley?" a woman appeared to his right. Bloody hell, as soon as I lose it, someone shows up.

Ron looked to the middle-aged witch; she wore her long black hair in a tidy bun and her thin lips gave her a constant frown. She fixed her glasses, and as she looked him over, curiosity flashed across her face.

"Miss. Thornburg?" Ron stood up, drawing in another deep breath. "Sorry about reaching out to you so abruptly… But this couldn't wait."

"Can I get you some water, Mr. Weasley?" Greta asked, not sounding very concerned.

"I'm all right," Ron gestured her to sit, mentally scolding himself for being weak. "I'd rather get started on this as quickly as possible."

"Do you need me to cover a story?" Greta asked. "I wasn't even made aware that my paperwork was processed."

"It's still being processed, but this is urgent," Ron explained. "I will trust you because Gornuk vouches for you, and once I tell you what I need you to cover, you will be the one asking to cover this."

"Really?" Greta cocked a doubtful eyebrow. "Go on, then, Mr. Weasley. I am listening." She sort of reminds me of Madam Pince and Professor McGonagall. Stern like Professor McGonagall, and dismissive like Madam Pince.

"I have spoken with Madam Bones, and she has agreed to give The Quibbler some private insight into the raid," Ron started, and Greta leaned forward a little. "Madam Bones and her Aurors will give us their personal accounts of what happened behind closed doors and then out on the battlefield. Our goal is to get the truth out about Fudge's incompetence, none of us want him to stay in Office."

"You're taking the fight to Fudge himself?" Greta asked. "You haven't even started publishing yet, but you want to take on the Ministry?"

"My advertisement firm will release the article all over Europe, and you'll get full credit for it," Ron said. "Don't you want revenge for what happened to you?"

"Pardon?" Greta frowned deeply.

"I'm not in the mood to beat around the bush," Ron said, the Calming Draught was taking hold. "I know you have a history with Fudge, and I know that you were humiliated by the Daily Prophet for speaking the truth." Ron then gave her a meaningful look. "I need someone who values the truth on my staff, and you fit the bill."

Greta just stared at him, and eventually, her frown started to disappear.

"You want me to start with the Aurors protecting Albus Dumbledore?" Greta asked, and Ron gave a nod.

"They're upstairs right now, and they're expecting us," Ron stood up, and Greta followed suit. "Do you have something to take notes on?"

"Always," she patted her purse. "Lead the way, Mr. Weasley. I'd like to ask some questions of my own, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," Ron began heading towards the Headmaster's personal floor. I hate questions.

"Are the residents of Knockturn Alley willing to speak up?" Greta asked. "And if so, are you only helping them so that they testify against Fudge?"

"I'm helping them because I can," Ron replied. "If they're not willing to speak up, I don't want you bothering them."

Greta gave a nod; she was clearly studying him.

"And why are you going after the Ministry like this?" she asked.

"I'm going after certain people within the Ministry, not all of it," Ron replied. "We need change, and we need it now. Fudge is a corrupt bootlicker, and he has repeatedly hurt this country for his own ego. You knew it years ago, but you didn't have anyone backing you."

"And you'll back me?" Greta asked. "If I publish this, I become a target again. The last 'News Agency' I worked for told me that they'd have my back too, but they were the first ones to discredit me."

"You can't really trust me until you write the article," Ron said calmly. "I could spend hours trying to convince you, but words are not actions."

"Very well," Greta decided to fully agree. "Let this be my test, then. I will show you why your Goblin offered me a salary of four hundred and fifty Galleons." What?! That much? For a single reporter? Gornuk, you better not have fucked up.

They made their way up the stairs, and when they reached the sealed door, Ron stepped up and knocked loudly. A tiny panel in the door swung open, revealing sharp, amber eyes. Madam Roberts.

"Ron?" Madam Roberts looked him over, and then she looked towards Greta. "Is she your reporter?" Madam Bones must have talked to her as well.

"She is," Ron replied. "Can we come in?"

"What's your signature Spell?" Madam Roberts asked in response. Huh?

"Cutis Terra," Ron replied slowly.

"How did our first sparring session end?" Madam Roberts asked.

"I strangled you with Brachium Colubrum, and while that was happening, you got me with a stunner," Ron replied, he had caught on.

"Wait a moment," Madam Roberts closed the panel, and after a few seconds, the door swung open. "Come in. Quickly."

Ron and Greta made their way inside, and Ron immediately felt the silence of this place. The entire floor was empty, with only three Aurors posted down the main corridor. Is the Headmaster's condition really so bad? I hope not.

"How is the Headmaster?" Ron asked, while Madam Roberts resealed the door.

"He'll live," Madam Roberts replied. "Let's go, Gawain is expecting you."

Ron and Greta followed after the hardened Auror, and Ron couldn't help but notice how jumpy Madam Roberts was being. She walked with a quickened pace, and her wand was gripped tightly in her right hand. She looks ready for anything.

"Tiberius, tell Gawain that Ron and his reporter are here," Madam Roberts stopped in front of a bulky, bearded wizard on guard duty.

The tall Auror looked Ron over, and then he entered the room he was guarding without a word.

"Are the Aurors planning a coup?" Greta asked Madam Roberts.

"Excuse me?" Madam Roberts turned to face the curious reporter.

"Are the Aurors planning to wrestle power away from the Minister?" Greta clarified. "Is that why they cut a deal with The Quibbler? I need to know these things if I'm to report on this raid."

"It's best that we keep the focus on Fudge," Ron cut in.

"If they give their accounts, Fudge will accuse them of betraying the Ministry regardless," Greta countered. "I will report the truth, not your agenda." Right…

Madam Roberts gave Ron a bland look, and Ron simply shrugged. It does take away Fudge's options, and Madam Bones will need to announce her campaign soon anyway. The Quibbler might as well advertise her from the get-go.

"I am not at liberty to comment on such questions," Madam Roberts began to walk away. "I have to get back to my duties."

"I'll get you into a room with Madam Bones, and you can ask her your questions," Ron said, and Greta gave him a nod.

The door suddenly opened, and Gawain Robards stepped through. Ron tried to look inside the room, but all he saw was the bearded wizard standing guard by a window.

"Amelia has given me clear instructions, and I will only share what I'm allowed to share," Gawain told them outright. "Any questions that I can't answer, I will ignore. Is that clear?"

Greta looked to Ron, and he gestured her to start. She pulled out a notepad and a red quill, scribbling down the date before looking to Gawain.

"Before we start, you need to leave," Gawain looked to Ron.

"Excuse me?" Ron just stared at the middle-aged wizard.

"Security reasons," Gawain said matter-of-factly. "We are only allowed to bring in one civilian at a time. Sorry, Mr. Weasley, but your reporter will need to fill you in later." Are you joking? Brilliant…

Ron decided to leave, it wasn't worth arguing over this right now. I'll have Greta send me a copy of her notes. He gave Greta a parting nod, and then made his way back to Madam Roberts. She gave him a knowing look, unsealing the door again.

"I suppose I can't visit the Headmaster in the future," Ron figured.

"Sorry, Ron, but given what's happening out there, risks can't be taken anymore," Madam Roberts said, and as soon as Ron stepped past the door's threshold, Madam Roberts resealed the door. Guess I'll go to Diagon Alley for the day, make sure that Lady Longbottom managed to hire that catering company she mentioned yesterday.

Ron made his way down the stairs; the fireplaces were on the ground floor. Wait… Maybe I should go to Hogwarts for a bit? I could give my siblings their vault keys, and I could also check up on my friends. The final thought filled him with dread, and Ron quickly banished the idea. He couldn't bring himself to face his friends, not after he had tried to abandon them when they needed him most. I can't even face Tracey, how am I going to face all of the others?

Ron entered the busy floor, silently making his way towards the fireplaces. St. Mungo's wasn't as staffed as Ron had imagined, he had only seen two Healers and a dozen nurses so far. The St. Mungo's of old was filled with people, and there were Healers and nurses around every corner. I suppose that most of them died during the fire. Ron cursed the Dark Lord under his breath, a slight frown marring his features.

"R-Ron?" came a very familiar voice, and Ron stopped dead in his tracks. Oh, no…

Ron slowly looked to his right, his eyes quickly becoming fixed on Daphne's surprised face. What is she doing here?! She's meant to be in her classes! She suddenly began walking over to him, and Ron felt his entire body go rigid. What do I do? What do I even say to her? Should I apologize again? She didn't look angry with him, but she didn't look glad to see him either. She just looked surprised and curious, maybe even a little vulnerable.

"Did… Did you come here for Tracey?" Daphne stopped in front of him, staring into his eyes. "Are you finally visiting her?" She's been crying, I can see it. And look at the bags under her eyes… When did she get some good sleep? "Ron… What's wrong? Why… Why aren't you saying anything? Are you angry… with me…?" Angry with her? She's still worried about how I feel?

Ron averted his gaze, feeling like utter scum. I can't just leave… It's time to face the music...

AUTHOR'S NOTES: That'll be all! I really felt like this was the right place to leave it, or I'll have to keep writing and making you all wait, and I would hate to do that. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Thank you again for the support you've all shown! It means a lot to me, sincerely!

Please check out the discord if you want, it's on my profile.

I'll see you guys in a couple of weeks!

(Another note: Pandora didn't take Ron's wand in the end, sorry for the confusion. He was using it later on in the chapter whilst practising.)