Follow the Butterflies

Author's Note: I have unfortunate news for all of you. This is the last chapter of the story, so thank you very much for all of your wonderful reviews, and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as heartdamoose and I did.

Chapter 11: When the Laughing Fit Subsides

By kazooband

The observer, and there were many, might have suspected that Ron had just won the lottery, single-handedly perpetrated the greatest victory in recent history, or perhaps aced a potions test and, miraculously, a third of them would have been right. Meanwhile, Ron was feeling ridiculously pleased with himself and couldn't help skipping down the hallway to the next DA meeting. He felt liable to burst into song at any given moment. He even did so once or twice, frightening the nearby students into defensive packs.

As far as Ron was concerned, there was no day in recent memory that had gone quite so well as this one. Two of his greatest foes had been vanquished, and he alone had been responsible for the downfall of both. What's more, his pathetic, wimpy, butterfly patronus had been instrumental in both victories. All of a sudden it didn't seem nearly so wimpy after all. After all, Harry's stag hadn't ever overthrown a dictator.

Unable to help himself, Ron performed an excited, flailing jig before collecting himself and knocking on the door to the Room of Requirement.

Hermione let him inside the sparsely populated room, demanding, "Where have you been? We've been waiting for you."

"Sorry," Ron replied. "I was just..." dancing "...finishing my charms homework."

Harry and Hermione glared exacerbated looks at each other. Whatever competition they had, it seemed that Harry lost, because he turned back to Ron and said, "Alright, here's the thing, mate. We were there when you finished your charms homework yesterday and we know you never had a girlfriend, so will you please just tell us what's been going on so we can quit trying to guess."

However, before Ron got around to explaining himself there was a knock at the door, and as Hermione went to answer it Ron fell victim to the habits of the past week and a look of far more alarm than the situation actually called for crossed his face.

"Fine," Harry relented. "After the meeting, then, but you can't run forever."

The rest of the group trickled in over the next few minutes. When everyone had arrived, Harry locked the door and called the meeting to order.

"Most of you have your patronuses sorted by now. I don't want you lot to just sit around bored while you're here, so why don't you go through the books in here and try to find and work on some more spells you want to learn. I'll work with the others and check in on you from time to time."

The group split apart with Hermione eagerly volunteering to organize those who were doing research. Ron made to join them, but Harry grabbed him back and said, "Oh no you don't, you're first."

"I think the others need more help than I do," Ron replied.

"It seems like you've got some sort of block against the charm," Harry said, ignoring Ron's protests. "That's the only reason I can think of that would make you have so much trouble."

"I'm telling you, I'm close," Ron laughed, "really, really close."

"So you keep saying," Harry sighed, "but you keep avoiding me when I ask you to prove it."

"Maybe I'll just show you, then," Ron replied defiantly, although it was unclear whether said defiance was directed at Harry or the pack of nerves that had just taken up residence in his stomach. It was nowhere near as uncomfortable as when he'd actually swallowed a butterfly, but he still could have done without it.

"Go ahead then," Harry offered. "You remember the incantation?"

"Yes I remember it," Ron muttered through gritted teeth. He cleared his mind, thought of the time less than an hour previous when his butterfly had eaten Malfoy's chick, and said, "Expecto Patronum!"

A puff of silver mist slid out of the tip of Ron's wand and coalesced into a beautiful silver butterfly. The entire room fell into a serine silence as they watched it and basked in its light. Then someone screamed.

It was as though a warning siren had gone off. Within a second everyone had snapped out of their wonder and within two seconds most people had located some sort of cover and were cowering out of sight.

"It's another one of those demon butterflies from this morning!"

"A pack of them killed Umbridge!"

"Yeah, good for them, but get out of there before it gets you too!"

Neville, a bit slower than the rest, was left out in the open, but he didn't spend long there. The butterfly landed on his sleeve and he squeaked, roughly brushing it off, then forced his way into the fort Fred and George had hastily erected out of the cushions the group used when they practiced stunning spells.

Harry and Ron were also left without cover, but only because they'd both seen where the butterfly came from. They looked at each other and started laughing just as the rest of the DA organized and began doing as they'd been trained to do. The names of twenty jinxes, hexes, spells, curses, and charms were invoked at once and Harry and Ron just barely managed to drop to the floor fast enough to avoid being hit by them.

The butterfly nimbly dodged most of the spells and those that hit it seemed to have no effect. Instead, books were blown off shelves, grisly pictures destined to depict terrible battles for evermore slipped off the walls and ripped in half, and there were some scattered screams as jinxes bypassed their target and struck their caster's comrades instead.

Those still able sent up a second volley, then a third and a fourth, sparing no thought or concern to nearby casualties. After all, right now, bringing down the butterfly was of the utmost importance, they could help their friends later; Harry hadn't taught them any lethal spells anyway, if he had they might have nabbed the blighter already. Their efforts were still having no effect, or the opposite effect from what they'd hoped for. Instead of being knocked out of the air, the butterfly was becoming more agitated.

Michael Corner let out a terrorized shriek and left his cover for the door, with Zacharias Smith right behind him. However, in their panic they forgot about the deadbolt and were reduced to clawing uselessly at the doorknob.

"Stop!" Harry yelled as a sneakoscope exploded and rained glass down over him.

"It's not dangerous!" Ron added, pushing away the remains of a shredded book that looked like nothing so much as the results of a freak snowstorm that had suddenly opened up over his head.

"Not dangerous!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you trying to tell me it wasn't one of these that killed Umbridge?"

"No," Ron admitted. "But it takes a whole pack of them to do that."

"It only took one to tear up the potions classroom," Harry reminded him.

"Go away!" Ron yelled up at the butterfly waving his arm, but all he got for his troubles was an impediment jinx to his hand, which stiffened and numbed his entire arm. It flopped down behind him, forcing him to roll to his back or risk dislocating his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"You can tell your patronus what to do, I've seen it," Ron replied. "I just don't think it can hear me."

"The whistle," Harry said, brightening up.

Valiantly, Harry squirmed across the room to the table where the whistle lay, ducking under wayward spells and dodging bewitched books and pictures. Just as Harry reached the table, Hermione daringly jumped out into the open and sent up a spell at the butterfly.

The well placed curse caught the butterfly squarely in one of its upper wings and tore a hole straight through it.

"No!" Ron yelled.

The butterfly, which only moments before had been insolently dodging spells, was now struggling just to stay aloft as the DA members seized their opportunity. Before long, the butterfly had been hit with almost every spell from almost every direction and floated gently back down to Earth, landing right in front of Ron.

Blinking away tears, Ron picked up the unfortunate insect. It waved its antennae mischievously then disappeared into a puff of smoke.

As Ron got shakily to his feet he watched the other members of the DA leave their hiding places to inspect the damage to the room and see to their fallen comrades.

"Was that your butterfly?" Ginny asked Ron, coming up behind him.

"Yeah," Ron replied.

"Were those your butterflies this morning too?" Fred asked, looking impressed.

"Yeah," Ron repeated. "But this one wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"I guess we just got a little carried away," George admitted.

"So," Harry started, intending to continue his and Ron's previous conversation. "You're patronus is a butterfly."

"Yep," Ron said proudly.

"Wicked," Fred and George said simultaneously. Most of the people in the room seemed to agree.

"Alright," Harry said, addressing the room at large. "I think that's enough for this meeting, get yourselves patched up if you need it. Forget about learning more spells, though. Next time we're starting battle tactics, with special attention to group on group and group on one scenarios."