Ron Weasley and the Alternative Unforgivable Curse

"Harry! You're safe! I'd have never believed it!"

It's early Monday morning and I've been up an hour. I recognise Hermione's voice. I'm just fart arsing about in my boxers, alternating between reading the latest Chudley Cannons annual and planting little kisses and strokes on Neville's body. Neville's lifting a weight with just the one arm, and swapping to the other now and again.

Harry, Dean and Seamus are also back by the sounds of it in the common room. At any moment they're going take the stairs up to the tower and see... I can feel it, any second now. I chuck my book on my bed and start to hastily pull clothes on.

"What are you doing?" Neville asks me.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing? They're gonna be up any second right? Great situation to be seen in - they'll find out about us!" I whisper harshly.

"So?"

"So Neville - they have spent a pissing week on the run. They don't want to see us wearing next to nothing and kissing when they come back here for refuge!"

"You're ashamed."

"No!" Maybe I say that a bit loud. I hear footsteps up the stairs.

"Shiiit," I whine. How are we going to get out of this one? And so quickly?

Neville looks away from me, but I can see his face in a bureaux mirror set in stone, moody and unsmiling. I take a deep breath and think of some mushy stuff to tell him. Heck, is Neville a girl or something?

"I'm not ashamed Neville... I love you. Just not yet... OK?"

Neville's face lights up at the mentioning of my feelings for him. I can see that he's trying to play it cool.

"Fine."

There's time for a brief kiss and finding my place in my book when we're greeted with the sight of Harry, Hermione, Dean and Seamus - but it doesn't look like them.

Harry looks the most different. He's not wearing his glasses, his hair is shaved very short and it's... blonde. Oh my bloody life - his scar is gone!

Everyone else just has different coloured hair. You wouldn't think that different coloured hair would make such a difference. Hermione has straightened hers too.

Neville and I gape like goldfish. I know how goldfish gape. Fred and George use them for their testing of their products. Something Hermione will never find out - Society for the Protection of Goldfish? ... She must be kept in the dark.

Harry walks over to me very cautiously, seeming unbalanced. He explains he didn't have time for contact lenses (what the flip are they?) and is walking about in a haze and keeps on stumbling. To prove his point, Harry trips onto me. I catch him and manage to bring him closer into a manly handshake.

"How did you get rid of the scar?" I ask in awe. I'm looking at his face, it's a little more brown, but his scar is gone as far as I can see - is it magic? If it is a charm, I'd like to use it to get the scar off my hand.

"Foundation," Hermione states. Everybody is looking at her in confusion.

"What?" Seamus says in some kind of disbelief.

Hermione looks at us in a withering way as if she wants to state the obvious.

"Make up! It disguises and hides spots - but in Harry's case I made sure it covered the scar. I showed Dean and Andy (Flitwick's nephew) how to apply it 'cos Harry couldn't see and is a useless male. When he was in public - he couldn't get too sweaty or wet in case it wore off."

"That, my dear, is genius." Neville beams at her and then reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder proudly. I suddenly had this urge to deck them both. How dare he touch her? He's mine! And Hermione - she should know better, the cow! Neville looks at me in absolute horror and slowly lifts his hand off her and backs away silently, trying not to make a fuss.

Nobody notices though, and they're now excitedly talking about their adventures - making their way back to England while in disguise and hiding from You-Know-Who.

***

Harry was grateful to be back at Hogwarts. Voldemort could not touch him there. It was his last year of safety before he was alone to battle the Dark Lord if he didn't do it before with the safety of the castle.

What he wasn't grateful for was to have to do potions at NEWT level and have to go to Snape's classes. He had to take potions to be an Auror - Something he wasn't pleased about.

'I hate my life,' Harry thought glumly.

Walking with Ron and Neville - both reluctant potions students while Hermione happily chatted, Harry felt safer facing the Slytherins with their deathly silences and malevolent stares. Draco Malfoy in particular was astonished to see Harry alive and more than amused at his new hairstyle. It provided a new battle, reasons for ridicule.

Professor Snape was not really bothered by the launching of flobberworms from one side of the classroom to the next; he had bigger fish to fry. Telling Harry his suspicions about Voldemort's plan and the dramatic transformation in his friends - who were giving not-so-sly loving gazes at each other. He would have to tell Harry. Harry was essential in fighting Voldemort. Why couldn't he just leave it to Dumbledore?

The lesson ended in a sullen silence when Snape made his wand blast an explosion in the classroom to gain attention. He was not used to this and it was going to stop RIGHT NOW!

"SILENCE!" He yelled in a tone that surprised even him. "Harry Potter. Stay after class, I want to talk to you."

Harry's stomach sank. He hadn't done anything wrong.

***

Harry shuffled apprehensively up to his potions mater. Severus Snape appeared indifferent to Harry himself which was change from the usual contempt. His eyes then darkened as he clocked other Gryffindors packing up very slowly and hanging around. Another crack of his wand ensued.

"Out!"

Nobody needed telling again, and the three Gryffindors scuttled out faster than if they'd have Disapparated. Harry stood where he was and shifted his weight to the other foot while Snape went to his office. Harry cleared his throat.

"You wanted to see me Professor?"

An impatient voice followed straight after.

"Yes, come in. Stop wasting my time, I haven't got all day."

"Sorry." Harry tentatively stepped into the office. Since the potions master was sitting down, Harry assumed he was to as well. A pause followed.

"Why did you want to see me Professor?"

"You are an obnoxious little shit, the spawn of an arrogant prick and his Mudblood wife..."

Harry felt a burst of anger and stood up. Was that all he wanted to say? Insult his parents who couldn't curse him into oblivion for saying....

"Is that all you called me in for? To have a go at my parents? I think I'll leave now, smash a few things on the way."

Severus did not even blink at this out burst - he didn't even appear to care. He calmly carried on.

"However, as much as I hate to admit, you are important in the fight against the Dark Lord. You must be informed of his latest developments,"

Harry felt foolish for rising to the greasy git's bait. He flushed and sat down.

"Yes. He tried to find me and kill me when he found I was away from Hogwarts and Dumbledore."

"The Dark Lord, Mr. Potter, has his fingers in more than one pie..."

"Huh?" Harry was more confused that such a man had used such an expression.

"The Dark Lord has used your... friends Weasley and Longbottom while you were away as an experiment to what I believe is a Muggle cleansing curse,"

"But Ron and Neville are both pureblood."

"Do not interrupt me, Potter. The Dark Lord is doing two jobs in one. By testing out this illegal and alternative unforgivable curse - he gets not only guinea pigs, but access to you,"

"I don't understand Professor. What has he done to them? They seem fine; neither appears to want to hurt me."

"Weasley and Longbottom - straight or gay?"

"Straight."

"Not anymore."

"WHAT?" Harry could not believe this. He sunk back into his chair further. He was weak, gobsmacked.

"The Dark Lord has invented a charm that your friends have unwittingly cast and they are now being gay together."

"You said this affects me, will I be gay?"

"You are a selfish little bugger."

"You are a prick."

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

"I'm not being selfish, I want the whole story."

"That as may be."

"Well?"

"He has not consulted us on this matter, and I have no idea if this is the Dark Lord or on his motivation, I can only guess, and it seems evil enough to be him," Snape continued, leaning a little further back into his chair.

"Why are you guessing? And how the heck do you know what is going on? Why do you think they are gay?"

"Legilimens. They could not hide memories from me of their time together... touching and..."

"Stop!" Yelped Harry, feeling a little ill. "Can you prove it?"

"I went to great lengths. It is a long story and I may be permanently maimed." Snape shuffled in his chair and looked uncomfortable. Why was he even telling him? He hated the brat. But orders from Dumbledore were orders. He may as well be civil, the lad was stupid, and he needed it spelled out. But not much more on his time. He was an important and busy man. (He had no papers to mark and was looking forward to a night with a goblet of wine and a book).

"I have it saved on omniculars - do you wish to see it, Potter?"

Harry's stomach turned. Ron and Neville? His head was swimming franticly, trying to stave off images of them kissing, which were made worse by his fierce shaking. Harry managed to croak.

"Don't you dare."

***

For a while the two who loathed each other stayed in a relatively comfortable silence while Harry's mind tried to process what he just been told.

"What are you thinking Professor?"

Snape didn't really want to tell Harry exactly what was on his mind. He opted for the professional thoughts. What he was really thinking though was how he really didn't want the 'pleasure' of this brat's company.

"At first, when I saw their thoughts, they believed it to be love - that they had suddenly realised their feelings while they were drunk. Today, I found from Longbottom that they cannot explain it and tried to use veela ancestry that was two hundred years old."

"Well it could be possible... you see in herbology..."

"Silence, Potter! I am aware of genetics. I do not need to be told by a mere teenager. The likeliness of both sides of their PUREBLOOD families having veela blood enough to warrant magnetic attraction is so low, I bet you and I will be lovers before they are fully inherited veela."

Harry gulped visibly at the bad imagery. Snape got up and made a cup of tea, and then at second thought, made another and pushed it in Harry's direction who was looking very weak. He commanded that the boy drink, then sat down again.

"I think he wants it to affect you through their influence. Fools who love, and he knows you crave love and acceptance, may take it from any place they can get it. Let's say if a misguided teenage boy shows you the attention or that love can be gained by that sex as well as the female one, you might fall for it. However, it does provide a lot of struggles. Every so often, there is the confused teenage boy thinking he loves another boy, usually a pureblood. Every effort by parents is made to stamp it out of them, to make sure they carry on the line. He understands that being gay is harder - coming out - conducting a relationship. Takes up time. He probably learned that lesson at school, we'll never know.

"Like you'd know," Harry said, immediately regretting it, did he think he was being funny when he said it? Snape just glared at him. After he had been so hospitable... he remembered why he hated this little shit - just like his father.

"Failing that - he'd expect the little hero you are - you will worry and go on a mission to save them - get side tracked into that, and he'll be able to overpower you."

"Oh, why is being gay so bad? It's not exactly OK in the Muggle world - but why would I bother trying to 'save someone' from being happy?"

"One loses the opportunity to carry on their family line. One can get a nasty disease from gay sex as you can from heterosexual sexual relations - you can die from a disease, Potter," Snape wondered why he was saying this. He wasn't even embarrassed talking of this delicate subject with his old rival's son. It felt business like, clinical, and antiseptic from all embarrassment. Even Harry wasn't blushing anymore; he was listening with intent, not for his own benefit either.

"Oh." Harry didn't know what else to say. There suddenly became a discomforting silence, Harry didn't want to answer that, and Snape didn't want to and couldn't divulge any more information without ultimately giving Harry a one-on-one sex education talk. Snape ended the quiet by slamming his mug of tea on his desk; staring at Harry and hoping he could try and seal this freakish meeting.

"Do you believe me Potter?" He reasoned that if Harry said he didn't believe him, he could palm the boy off to Dumbledore, and if he did, he could send him on his way to Dumbledore for further discussion.

"If you can see into my thoughts - shouldn't you know already?" Harry answered. He thought he had overstepped the mark again when Snape's lips thinned out, but instead, he laughed a dry laugh briefly before remembering his place. Harry jumped in surprise.

"Shut up Potter, yes or no?"

"I believe you. We are both on the same side, yes?"

"I shall be speaking with the headmaster and asking for his counsel on the matter - I have done all I can alone. You shall be called to speak to the headmaster and myself again at some point. You may go now."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry got up and left for the common room. He didn't really see why Snape had confided in him. If it was a plot of Voldemort's then he would have to fight him - was this going to be the final showdown? He sincerely hoped not. Harry hoped he would be older and stronger before he did.

He wasn't sure he wanted to go to the common room. He didn't know if he wanted to talk to anyone - his brain was aching and he was feeling a little queasy. He considered going to Madam Pomfrey to ask for something to calm his stomach. He soon set himself against that. To say he ate something dodgy at the last meal would be to cause a fuss, as many other students would have eaten what he did too. He couldn't bring himself to tell her the real reason either. Instead, he opted to take a walk through the corridors, it being too chilly now to take the walk outside to visit Hagrid without proper warm clothes.

Were they really not aware of what they were doing? They were oblivious that their love was a plot to kill him. How could he face his best friend? Look him in the eye and know what they had done and what they were continuing to do. Poor Ron, believing he was in love with a mystical creature when it wasn't even for real. Harry wouldn't say a word to either of his friends until they told him or they knew that he had found out. He had the notion that it might be better if they didn't know that he knew about their relationship. It would be too embarrassing for him to confront Ron and Neville, and how could he keep his opinions to himself, smile and nod if his friends told him and passionately declared that they were in love?

Harry kept on walking around the school, nodding and saying hello to those who greeted him. He never stopped to talk. He hoped he might be able to walk off the problem, maybe if he tried to make his way through the whole school, he would have enough time to think, to accept that his friends were being made pawns in his fight with Voldemort, and to wonder would there ever be the solution to his problem. Were Ron and Neville bonded and would they be as they were now for the rest of their lives? Would they turn against him? If their minds had been manipulated to love the other, could they be twisted to hate Harry and work to destroy him?

Harry carried on walking until the bell for curfew rang, children in other houses, temporarily uniting because they were family or previous friends, made their way to their common rooms. Harry went with the flow of children and split off gracefully with the rest of the Gryffindors. He was so quiet and drawn, no one paid any attention to him, and once he reached the common room, he made his way up to the bedroom, where Neville was helping Ron understand a herbilogical theory for a NEWT essay. They didn't hear him come in, and if they did, they didn't pay attention to him. Harry ignored them too, and went to bed, shutting the curtains on the four-poster, and stayed awake most of the night, wondering if he had lost his friends.