Our Fathers

Chapter Nine - Anger

The ride from London to the Burrow was the longest of Ron's life. Bill had Apparated ahead with the luggage, leaving the twins, Ginny, and Ron all squeezed into the back seat when Harry was allowed to ride driver's side with Snuffles on his lap. The twins, of course, made Ron's ride misreable with any number of taunts and prods. But, finally, the Burrow was in sight.

Only Bill and an irritated-looking Percy were awaiting their arrival. "Mum and Dad are with Charlie. We can head over after dinner to see him," Bill reported. "Hey, Re, do you mind kipping out on my floor?"

Lupin, to Snuffles' very obvious annoyance, was in the process of attatching a dog collar and leash to his Animagus friend. "Floor's fine, Billy. Snuffles, here, will likely join us. Do you mind?"

Bill shook his head and Percy turned up his nose at the mutt. "Professor, did you talk to Mum before bringing this... animal?"

"Course I did! I'll have you know, your mother is very fond of Snuffles." Lupin ruffled the dog's ears and affected a sickeningly sweet tone, grinning maliciously at Sirius. "Ooooh, isn' that right, Snuffly?"

Snuffles growled menacingly and Ron exchanged a grin with Harry. He was sure Lupin would never hear the end of that one... Snuffly?

Fred frowned and peered at the dog. "Hey, when you were talking on the fellytone, you called the dog 'Padfoot'."

Professor Lupin's smile faultered for a moment, and Bill's eyes slowly widened in some sort of horrified recognition of the name. "Just a nickname," Lupin answered quickly, avoiding Bill's gaze. Fred and George were exchanging suspicious glances as well. "And please, Percy, don't call me professor. None of you need to. I've not been your professor for over a year! Remus is fine."

"Well, come inside," Percy began, shooting a glare of dislike at the large black dog. Bill was staring as well. He took a step back and opened his mouth to speak, but Lupin clamped a restraining hand on his shoulder. Percy went on, oblivious. "There's only a bit of time before we eat and go to see Charlie. It's too cold to be standing around outside." He sheparded everyone in, yelling pompously at the twins as they offered him some suspicious-looking candy. Ron let himself grin. Everything was right at home, and would be even better when Charlie was home for Christmas.

Despite her son's injury, Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself with the decorating, due to the guests they'd be having for the holiday. The tree was in the living room, decked with hand-placed ornaments and tiny magical lights; candles floated along the stairwell, lighting the way to all the bedrooms; garlands of evergreens were tied with red and gold ribbons and twelve stockings hung from the mantle: two very old ones for Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, seven in various colours for the Weasley children (with Ron's, of course, in maroon), and three very new ones, labelled "Harry," "Remus," and "Snuffles." Harry, upon seeing the stockings, grabbed Ron's sleeve and nearly danced in excitement. "Ron! Ron, look, I've a stocking, too! With my name on it!"

Ron laughed, heartened at the change in Harry. He'd been sullen at school but had nearly returned to his old self. "Of course you have a stocking. See, she made it green, just like the first sweater she made for you. She couldn't do red, since that's Charlie's colour. Don't worry, you'll get another sweater, too." Ron sighed, eyeing the suspiciously wrapped package already beneath the tree with his name on it. Yes, he was doomed - more maroon. "Do you think Dobby would want a maroon sweater?"

"I got him some socks in Hogsmeade. I found some with the Gryffindor crest on them. Rugby socks." Harry grinned. "He loved them."

Ron frowned, wracking his brain for a meaning to accompany the word. "Rubby? Is that what Dean watches at home?"

Harry shook his head emphatically. "Rugby. And no, it's... like... oh, never mind. Muggle game." There was a long pause as Harry admired the presents and turned respectfully to Percy. "So, um... how are things at the Ministry?"

Percy sniffed loudly and Ron turned to escape, but the sight of Fred and George once again chasing Snuffles, this time with a hazardous-looking treat, and in turn being chased up the stairs by Lupin caught his eye and kept him close enough to hear Percy launch into what Ron privately called 'Bighead Boy' mode. "Well, after the whole Triwizard Disaster -" Ron saw Harry wince visibly from the corner of his eye "- my department has been quite busy. There was an international incident to smooth over, due to Headmaster Karkaroff's disappearance, and Headmaster Dumbledore's been going around announcing You-Know-Who has returned. Pure rubbish, of course, sorry Harry. And with Mr. Crouch's death, it's been simply ghastly trying to get things done. Were I a more senior member, I'm sure they would've offered me a promotion, but I've only been there a year. I was his assistant, remember. But, they did offer it to Dad."

With a start, Ron peered over at Percy. "Dad? They offered Dad a promotion?"

Percy sniffed again, staring down his nose at Ron - which was quite a feat, as Ron was nearly his height. "Of course! Ron, he's been head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department for nearly twenty-three years! He was offered Muggle Afairs right before you were born and Magical Affairs right before I was, but he turned both down. He's never been offered anything quite as important as International Affairs, but I believe Minister Fudge was quite impressed with the way he handled the aftermath of the Quidditch Cup. International Affairs would be a very important position right now, you know. And he was offered an extra 10,000 Galleons a year to take it up."

Ron's jaw dropped. "10,000 Galleons? Wow... when will he be switching offices?"

"He won't." There was a long pause, as Ron stared in shock and Percy's ears turned bright red in some sort of combination of anger and annoyance. "He's turned it down. The seventh department-head position he's been offered since1975, and he turned it down. He could've been Minister of Magic, if he hadn't been so obsessed with plugs!" Percy scowled and turned abruptly, retreating before his anger got the best of him. An angry Percy - that was a sight Ron never wanted to see again. The last time, he'd managed to destroy most of his room in rage. Percy kicked the wall savagely as he stormed up the stairs, his neck colouring bright red as he went.

Harry glanced over at Ron, shaking his shoulder to get his attention. "What's the matter with Percy? It's just a job."

"Just a job?" Ron spun to face his friend, already able to feel his own face turning a flushed red. "Harry, 10,000 Galleons more a year... that's more than Percy makes! If he could've gotten a better paying job in 1975, why didn't he? Bill and Charlie were already born then, and Percy was born in 1976! Then we wouldn't have to be poor! I'm so sick of being poor! Malfoy wouldn't be able to make fun of me anymore, and I wouldn't have to wear Percy's old robes because I've outgrown Bill's, and maybe I would've been able to have my very own broomstick for a change, and I could've had a real pet instead of Scabbers, and I wouldn't -" Ron stopped abruptly, flushing an even darker red at the expression in Harry's eyes. It was pity. "You don't know what I'm talking about anyways," he snarled, turning for the stairs. "You have everything you want."

He knew it would hurt, but he couldn't stop himself. Before he could see the pain in Harry's eyes, Ron bounded up the stairs. It was Christmas, Harry was ill, he was supposed to be helping him, but the thought of being the object of his best friend's pity was too much for Ron to handle.

By the time he'd reached the third floor landing, the rage had melted into despair. He should go back down and apologize - after all, it wasn't Harry's fault that he'd lived most of his life in near-poverty. It was his father's fault for being too stubborn to take a new job, when his family could barely scrape by. His father's fault that he'd been forced to go to the Yule Ball in shabby maroon robes, and that Draco Malfoy made a fool of him for his lack of money even when his blood was as pure as the Malfoys, and that his schoolbooks were always stained by Fred and George's pranks, and Percy's carefully taken notes, and Charlie's collection of notes scribbled in his books by admirers, and the bad poetry Bill had composed when he was in fifth year. He couldn't even afford new books when they were almost twenty-five years out of date.

Suddenly, Ron heard voices raised at the end of the hall. He crept down outside of Bill's room and knelt down to peer through the keyhole - years of watching Fred and George in order to rat on them to his mum had made espionage one of Ron's little-known talents. Ron didn't see Bill, however. In fact, had Bill been close by, Ron had the feeling a full-blown duel would be going on, as Sirius Black was currently standing in his human form and shouting at Professor Lupin. "Look at him, Remus! Look at him, he's skin and bones!"

"You can't help him, Sirius." Lupin was sitting on the edge of Charlie's bed, staring at the ground glumly. "None of us can. I told you that, but you just wouldn't listen -"

"And how am I supposed to accept that? You're the brainy one, go run off to the Ministry Archives and figure something out! Isn't that how you always found the answers at school?" Sirius started pacing, kicking at Lupin's bag of clothing every time he passed.

"Maybe I grew up, Sirius. It's not as if you were around to see it." He reached out and snatched up the bag before Sirius could kick it again. "You weren't around to help me, you weren't around to raise Harry, and it certainly wasn't your fault -" Ron saw Sirius turn threateningly in Lupin's direction, but the werewolf jumped to his feet. "Hey, hold it, just listen. It wasn't your fault that you weren't there, it was Peter's, but it means that you've got no more of a hold on him than anyone else in the wizarding world. I know you want him to be your godson... your son... but you know that can't happen. It'd be best if he started to get used to the idea, as well."

Sirius snarled loudly and went back to pacing. "I'm his godfather, Remus, James chose me! I can't just abandon him!"

"And running around England will help you? No, it'll just send you right into the Ministry's hands!" Lupin collapsed back onto Charlie's bed. "If they get you, there's nothing we can do to keep you from getting the Kiss! Peter is dead!"

Ron gave a soft gasp, hoping that the two older men hadn't heard him. He'd known that You-Know-Who had killed Peter Pettigrew, of course, but the affects hadn't occurred to him. Now no one would ever believe Sirius if he proclaimed his innocence. There wasn't a shred of proof. Pettigrew's body was probably destroyed or buried in some unmarked grave. But what did that mean for Sirius? Would he have to hide out in the cave by Hogsmeade or as a dog for the rest of his life?

"Peter's dead, and I curse God for letting someone else do the job! I hope he's rotting in Hell!" Without Lupin's bag to kick, Sirius turned and kicked the edge of Bill's dresser instead. "I should've killed him in the Shrieking Shack, Remus! I shouldn't have let Harry stop me, I should've -"

"And then Harry would've hated you and Severus would've killed you or turned you over to the dementors. Should'ves and could'ves aren't going to help anymore. Peter's dead, James is dead, Lily is dead, Frank can't identify his own son, Severus has become bitter and spiteful - well, moreso than he was at school - Arabella is old and tired and doesn't want to rejoin the wizarding world, Mundugus is dead, Arthur's hands are tied, you're a convict... and I'm the only one left able to do a bloody thing! Do you think this is the way I wanted it to turn out? God, no..." Lupin gave a deep sigh and buried his face in his hands. His voice was muffled slightly, but not enough to make it inaudible. "I should've gone back to France. Werewolves can get jobs in France, and Voldemort couldn't care less what the French are doing."

"Snape is bitter?" Sirius gave a snort. "Look who's talking. And I'm not out of the running yet."

Lupin glanced up, frowning. "You are. Sirius, you're not seriously considering going against Dumbledore -"

He was back to pacing in a second. "He bloody wants me to run away! How can I do that, when Harry's in danger? Did you hear what Dumbledore said about those dreams? How can I run away?"

"You have to go, because if something happens to you, Harry would stop fighting. You're all he has left. Lily's stupid sister treats him like a disease, Albus treats him like a pawn - an expensive pawn, but a pawn all the same, Severus treats him like dirt because of the memories, and everyone else treats him with pity or worship. Without you to guide him, I don't think he'd want to live." Lupin's gaze was completely sincere, and Ron felt a chill run down his spine at what he'd insinuated. Would Harry really do something like that?

Sirius gave a loud snort. "He'd have you and his friends. If I got the Kiss, he'd hardly go kill himself. He's strong. He's a Gryffindor. And as you said, I was away for twelve years and don't have a hold on him at all."

"That's not what I meant, Sirius Black, and you know it!" Lupin sighed in exasperation. "He cares about you, but you know you won't ever be able to care for him the way you should! Albus has some kind of plan - constructed, I'm sure, to make him the most effective weapon possible - but you know you can't be here to see it, and you know I can't be the one to make sure he stays sane until the end, and you know his friends might not be enough to hold him together. If you're still around and in danger, he might not let himself open up to whomever Albus decides is right to care for him. He'll fixate on worrying about you instead of taking care of himself, and when you finally ended up getting captured - don't give me that look, Sirius, you know they'd get you at some point down the line - when you get captured and get executed by Voldemort or Kissed by the Dementors, he'll fall to pieces! It's got to be a clean break. Give him a chance to start out fresh again."

With a low moan, Sirius sunk onto Bill's bed. "Remus... Moony, I don't want to go..."

Lupin got up and crossed the room, coming to rest at Sirius' side. He snaked an arm around his friend's shoulders. "I know, Padfoot. But you have to. Besides, it'll give you a chance to start out fresh, as well. Get a job, get a nice little house in the park, never have to hide out in a cave again... maybe you'll even find yourself a girl, this time around. And then, when the war's over, Albus will tell me where you're hiding out and Harry and I will show up on your doorstep one afternoon and meet all the little kiddies."

"Me. With kids." He laughed softly. "I expect you'll want me to name the first one after you."

Lupin wrinkled his nose. "What? Name a child Remus? Are you mad?" He stuck out his tongue. "I'd never curse my worst enemy with my name. Mind you, yours wouldn't be winning any competitons... No, I think you'll name the first one after James. He deserves it."

"Yeah," Sirius whispered. "He does." His voice was lower, husky almost, with repressed tears. "You know I'm going to miss you, right?"

"I'll miss you too," Lupin replied.

Ron backed up from the door, mind numb in shock. Sirius was leaving Harry? That was impossible... This was supposed to be their first Christmas together as a family, not the only one. Lupin was wrong - Sirius leaving would crush Harry just as much as Sirius dying. It sounded as if he was going far away, and undercover, and if Harry really was dying... would they ever see each other again?

He retreated to his room and perched on his bed, trying to come to terms with what he'd heard. Harry, it seemed, would be getting a family. Dumbledore had said so to Lupin. It wouldn't be Lupin, since he was a werewolf, and it wouldn't be Sirius, because he was leaving. Sirius could never be free, and so he had to leave, so he was probably going undercover and changing his name, just like the spies in all the Muggle novels that Dean liked to read.

So now, he was left with two problems - who would be Harry's family, and how could he help Hermione find a cure? There had to be one, she was right. He wasn't going to sit back and let his friend waste away, even if it had seemed impossible, and he certainly wasn't going to let him want to stop living. The first thing he could do was help Harry with the potion, in order to keep him from seeing all the dreams and allow him to sleep at night. Then, he could owl Hermione and offer his help, and maybe even bully his dad into taking him over to the Ministry Archives to do some research.

Research. He was starting to sound like Hermione.

"Well, there's part of it," Ron mused softly. How about the answer to the second bit, then? Who would be Harry's new family? Ron knew that his mum would love the job - she'd practically adopted Harry the moment he'd become friends with Ron. However, there wasn't a chance his parents could afford to take Harry in. If his father had taken that job...

If his father had taken the bloody job, so many things would be easier to solve.

A little while later, Ron made himself go back downstairs to find Harry. His friend was sitting in one of the patched chairs in the living room and staring at the Christmas tree, a half smile on his face. Ron had the sudden urge to confess everything he'd heard - and normally, he would've - but he had the feeling that Sirius would want to be the one to break it to Harry. He didn't want to keep the secret, but in this case, it would probably hurt him less later on if he did. "Harry?" he asked softly, feeling a little bit guilty as he interrupted his friend's musing.

Harry glanced up, still smiling. "I'm looking forward to Christmas. I've never had a really big Christmas like this before. When Aunt Marge had Uncle Vernon's family for Christmas once, they left me at Mrs. Figg's - and all she did for Christmas was give extra ham to her cats."

Ron was struck silent, the apology wilting on his lips. It took him a moment to realize just what a cad he'd been, being jealous of Harry having everything - he didn't. Harry might've been the Boy Who Lived, he might have had a million Galleons locked away, and he might've been popular and smart - but he still didn't have something that Ron had. Ron had a family, and Harry was losing the only family he had.

For that matter, Ron had something even Malfoy would never have: five brothers and a sister who kept him company, even when they pulled pranks on him or told him to sod off; a mum who loved him very much and made sure he knew it, even if she hadn't the money to send him a package of sweets every week; and a father... well, a father who turned down a high paying job for no reason. Ron pushed the last thought aside, however and finally took a seat across from Harry. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I shouldn't have said that."

Harry looked a little bit surprised. Ron didn't really blame him - after all, Ron's apology after the whole Champion debacle the year before hadn't been an admission of fault, but rather a refusal to talk about any of it. "Well, I wasn't thinking when I -"

"No," Ron cut in, determined to make it right. "It was my fault. I'm really angry that Dad has been passing up all these positions, but it's not your fault I'm poor. It's his fault."

Harry looked ready to disagree, but stopped short, a frown frozen on his face. Finally, he merely sighed. "Let's not talk about it anymore."

Ron nodded. "Right. Anyways, there's a big cauldron down in the basement, and Mum keeps a lot of potion ingredients around down there to dry. Do you have the recipe? We could make a whole batch of the potion for you, before we go to see Charlie."

The change of subject did wonders: Harry perked up, a hopeful smile crossing his face. "Do you mean... I can visit Charlie, too?"

"Of course you can!" Ron snorted. "What, do you think I'd leave you behind here? You can handle a dragon - Charlie was very impressed. He'd like to see you. Well, if he's awake to see anyone." He jumped up, pushing worries about his brother away. "C'mon, race you to the basement."

Harry was considerably better after a dose of the potion, whatever it was, and Ron helped him bottle up the extra for later. Ron was surprised by how easily they'd made it, even with George's help, considering his abysmal Potions grade at school - although most of his problem in there seemed to stem from the looming and snarky professor rather than the difficulty of the subject matter. "Enough to get you through until Christmas. We can make more then, if you want."

"This means a lot to me, you know." Harry grinned, sticking the flask in his pocket. "But hey, it probably means you won't wake up in the middle of the night with my screaming, either."

"Definitely a plus," Ron shot back, grinning in response to soften the comment. "It's not as if I sleep at school, anyways, with Neville snoring loud enough to wake a zombie, and Seamus rolling out of bed at two in the morning -"

"- and Dean trying to finish his homework before class, so he can spend all evening mooning after Parvati." Harry rolled his eyes. "He's ridiculous. As bad as Lavender and Parvati, if you ask me."

"Ron? Harry? Where are you hiding out?" Bill's voice boomed through the house.

They pounded up the basement steps and joined the others for dinner, Ron sitting next to Harry and Ginny across from them. Ron idly wondered if she'd put her elbow in the butter dish again, fauning over Harry, but quickly stopped thinking about it as Bill put dishes of food on the table. It looked nearly as good as a Hogwarts meal, and Ron dug in without waiting for anyone else. He wasn't called the Endless Stomach by Hermione for nothing.

"Blame Re if it tastes like old rubber," Bill joked, passing around a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "He actually cooked like a Muggle! Didn't use his wand once!"

Percy nearly choked, and Lupin grinned like a madman. "I can't cook with a wand, actually... I've always lived far too close to Muggles for it to be allowed. Can you imagine what an old Muggle lady would think if she looked out her window and saw me levitating pots all about the flat? She'd call the police on me for certain!"

"Ugh, the stupid dog stuck his head in my lap!" Fred exclaimed suddenly, launching out of his seat.

Harry burst out laughing, accidentally spitting juice across the table at Ginny - who turned bright red and fled the table. Ron lifted the tablecloth and glanced down at Snuffles, who was giving him an innocent look. "Profess- er, Remus, what's Snuffles going to eat?"

"Well, when he stops groping Fred, I'll let him have people food." Lupin winked at Ron and Harry kept laughing, wheezing for breath. George thumped him on the back soundly.

Snuffles shot out from under the table and sat obediently next to Lupin, resting his head on the man's knee and thumping his tail against the floor loudly. Ron couldn't help but join Harry in his hysterical laughter as Lupin murmured, "Here you are, you pervert," and offered the Animagus a hunk of chicken.

Bill had begun giving the dog suspicious glares again, so Ron quickly changed the conversation. "So, has anyone heard how Charlie is?"

That was easily enough to divert Bill's attention. "Dad sent an owl a few hours ago," he admitted. "Mum didn't want to leave the hospital for dinner. It's... well, the doctors aren't sure. He's burned very badly. And he's not awake."

Ginny was hovering around the door, probably trying to decide whether or not it was safe to sit down again. "Is he going to wake up again?" she asked quietly, giving voice to Ron's concerns.

Bill and Lupin exchanged a hesitant glance. "He's in a coma," Professor Lupin answered. "There's not much anyone can do but wait and hope."

"Do they know for certain that Voldemort wasn't a part of it?" Harry asked.

There was a long drawn out silence as Fred and George winced at Harry's use of the name, Percy slowly simmered red in indignation, Ginny's eyes widened at the thought, and Bill and Lupin exchanged another set of glances. Ron glared at Percy, hoping to silence the inevitable opinions, but nothing could stop Percy when he'd gotten something into his head. "That's nonsense! You-Know-Who isn't back, it's all something Dumbledore has cooked up to rouse the wizarding community against Minister Fudge -"

"He is back!" Ron snarled, launching to his feet with an immediate need to back his best friend. "He killed Cedric Diggory last year, and you know Dumbledore wouldn't tell lies like that -"

Bill cut in quickly. "We don't talk about this, alright? We don't agree on it, and it only makes things -"

But Percy took to his feet with a quick retort. "God only knows what Dumbledore would or would not do! Minister Fudge thinks that he might be trying to get his job, and is using the resurgence in Death Eater activities as an excuse -"

The fight spread to the twins, despite Bill's constant pleading interjections. Ron hadn't a clue which of the two spoke first, as they finished each other's sentences so quickly. "An excuse? What the bloody hell are you saying -"

"- he's killing people! He killed a bunch of Slytherin families -"

"- the ones who wouldn't follow him, and he even killed the Malfoys -"

"- and we all know that the bloody Malfoys were working for him -"

"- and Harry was there when Cedric died!"

"Do you think he's lying about it? Trying to get the glory?" Ron snapped. He turned to Harry, who had sunk into his seat a bit. Unmindful of his friend's embarrassment at being put on the spot, he charged on. "Well? Tell him what happened!"

Once again, everyone fell silent. Fred, George, and Ron all sat down, while Percy remained standing and looking down his nose at Harry. Ginny stepped away from the door to be able to see Harry, and Bill looked both curious and frightened at the same time. Lupin, however, got up and moved his chair closer to Harry. As he sat down and grabbed Harry's shoulder, he was the one to break the silence. "You don't have to, Harry." And then Ron realized why Harry had sunk down into his seat. He wasn't embarrassed. He was scared. Ron's heart seemed to sink into his stomach with the realization of what he'd made Harry relive.

Instead of speaking, Harry slowly rose from his seat and rolled up his left sleeve. A long, white scar marred his flesh, running from the inside of his elbow down nearly to his wrist. "Do you see this?" he asked softly, so quietly that Ron had to strain to hear, even at his side. His face was like stone, without any emotion showing at all. "See this, Percy? Cedric and I grabbed the trophy at the same time, because we helped each other on the last leg. It was a portkey. It took us both to a graveyard, where there was a Death Eater waiting. He killed Cedric and tied me to a gravestone, and he cut my arm and bled me into a cauldron. And he put something terrible into the cauldron along with my blood, and a bone from the grave beneath me, and his own hand, which he cut off himself. There was a spell, but he could barely say it, because he was in so much pain. And then, Voldemort was standing there. He had a body. He had his wand. And he untied me, he summoned his Death Eaters, he was planning to duel me to the death. And do you know what I did? I ran away and grabbed Cedric's body and grabbed the portkey. See this, Percy? He used my blood to come back."

Percy was shaking, though Ron couldn't tell if it was from anger or fear. "That's ridiculous," he spat. "You don't seriously expect me to believe -"

"I thought that was the end of it," Harry continued, oblivious to Percy's words. Something seemed to be cracking through the mask, though Ron wasn't sure of the emotion - anger at Percy for not believing? Pain from reliving the night or guilt at not being able to save Cedric? Or... something else entirely? "Well, I knew I'd probably end up having to fight him at some point, because of who I am - and I hate who I am, Percy. But I thought maybe I would be able to finish school first; or have a quiet summer at the very least. But I was wrong about that too. You see, Percy, he used my blood, and now I keep Seeing the things he's doing to people, and I feel the things he's doing to people. When he tortured Malfoy's dad, I saw it and I felt every curse. And last night, when he murdered Marcus Flint and his parents sometime after midnight because Marcus refused to be a Death Eater, I saw that too." Fred and George gasped softly and Percy's eyes widened. "Yes, Percy, there's not a chance in hell I could've found that out any other way. Go on, Apparate over to the Ministry and see if I'm right? Maybe then, you'll see what's actually happening."

And Percy, to Ron's surprise, stumbled away from the table and Apparated away.

Lupin jumped out of his chair and pulled Harry into a hug as Ron jumped up to lend him support as well, if he needed it. He looked drained, though nowhere near as tired as before he'd taken his potion. "I'm fine," he whispered, leaning into Lupin's embrace. Ron and Professor Lupin helped him to sit down again, with Lupin maintaining the contact of a hand on Harry's shoulder. He was lying, Ron could see that in the lines of pain on his face as the way he squeezed his eyes shut as he let Lupin hug him. He certainly wan't fine.

"Harry?" Bill asked, voice a croak of amazement, or horror, or maybe a combination of the two. He cleared his throat. "Harry, I believe you. And I would've run away, too."

Harry finally seemed to relax, then, as if afraid of what the other Gryffindors would've said at his admission of cowardice. Ron certainly didn't see it as such. Though he'd heard some of what had happened, he hadn't heard it the whole way through before - although he noticed that Harry had skipped over the duel, the one part he'd recited step by step for he and Hermione. Ron didn't blame him. It was horribly complex and just as draining as the rest of it. Ron was sitting close enough to hear Lupin whisper as he bent over next to his friend's ear, "I'm very proud of you, Harry. And if Percy can't believe you, you haven't failed in anything."

And suddenly, Percy was standing there again, his face blanched white. He stared at Harry as though he were a ghost, or You-Know-Who himself. "Marcus Flint," he started, his voice cracking audibly, "never arrived to Quidditch practice with Puddlemere United this morning. Today was supposed to be his last day. He was going into hiding tonight. Oliver Wood was going to be his Secret Keeper. But when Marcus didn't arrive for practice, Oliver went over immediately to his house... the Mark was there... three dead... God, Harry, how...?"

"I told you, Percy, he has my blood. We're connected through it." Harry's voice was low and steady again, and Ron envied his ability to remain calm.

Percy sunk back into his chair. "Oh, God... then he's really back... Minister Fudge is wrong, he's really back..."

No one spoke until the end of the meal. Lupin remained at Harry's side, silently supporting him, while Percy stared, white-faced, at his food. However, as they stood and began getting ready for their trip to visit Charlie at St. Mungo's, Ron saw Sirius curled in the corner, watching Harry mournfully - watching, and unable to help. And Harry didn't seem to notice as he let Lupin lead him over to the fireplace.

It should've been Sirius helping.