The Final Reckoning

Chapter Three: The Duties of a Big Brother

Two mornings after learning about Harry having to testify at Lucius Malfoy's trial, Ron sat at the kitchen table, trying to start a Potions essay.

He was in a foul mood; he'd slept poorly the night before, but when he woke up, he couldn't remember any of his dreams to write them down in his diary. This irritated him no end--at least if he was going to lose sleep, he ought to be able to remember the dreams that kept causing him to wake up. When he'd finally dropped off at six o'clock that morning, the explosions started. They'd been going on for the past two hours.

Then there was the homework situation itself, which was by any objective measure entirely unreasonable. Three essays for every subject, ranging from two to four feet of parchment. All in preparation, the teachers had said, for upcoming N.E.W.T.s.

Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests indeed, Ron thought.

But of all the homework he had to face, none was so onerous as that of Professor Snape's.

'Evil git,' Ron muttered, for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Five essays for summer homework. FIVE. Ron scowled. Never mind that Snape was a spy for the Order and had blown his cover at the end of the last school term. Never mind that Snape had helped Luna brew the potion that had ultimately saved Harry's and Hermione's lives. Any person who could assign five essays--three feet of parchment EACH--for the summer holidays was evil.

BOOM!

Another explosion from outside. It so startled Ron that he upended his inkpot and spilled black liquid onto his clean sheet of parchment.

'Shit!' he said angrily, righting the inkpot. Half the ink was now seeping onto his parchment. He groaned, picked up his wand from the table, and said 'Scourgify.' The ink vanished...sort of. Left behind was a faint purplish stain all across the parchment. Ron immediately decided on a fresh piece of parchment; knowing Snape, the greasy prat would deduct points just for the ink stain.

'Hey,' said Ginny, sitting down heavily across from her older brother. She slid a pile of books onto the table. 'What's that, Potions?'

'Yeah,' said Ron bitterly. 'Honestly. Five bloody essays?'

'Well, it is N.E.W.T. year,' said Ginny, opening up 1,001 Magical Herbs and Fungi. 'And you want to be an Auror, so--'

'Yeah, yeah,' said Ron. 'Spare me the lecturing, okay? I'll get enough of that when Hermione gets here.'

'You like her nagging you and you know it,' said Ginny. 'It's some sick sort of foreplay with you two.'

'What do you know about foreplay?' said Ron sharply, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

'Wouldn't you like to know?' said Ginny, smiling smugly.

'Actually, I wouldn't, thanks,' said Ron, shuddering just slightly.

'Morning,' said a third voice. Ron and Ginny looked up to see Percy hobbling into the kitchen. His cane made heavy tapping noises on the tile, and he was smartly dressed, in simple navy blue robes, for work.

'Doing homework?' he said, raising his eyebrows and sounding impressed. 'There's something new.'

Just then another massive explosion sounded from outside.

'Good lord, it's worse than when Fred and George lived here,' said Percy, shaking his head.

BOOM!

'Oi, what the bloody hell kind of wards are these?' Ron snapped, to no one in particular.

'Whatever they are, they'd better be good,' said Ginny.

'How'm I supposed to get any work done?' Ron grumbled. 'Honestly.'

Percy cleared his throat, and Ron looked up. His older brother - his uptight, work-obsessed older brother, was smiling wryly at him.

'What?' Ron asked defensively.

'Oh, you just...remind me of someone, that's all,' said Percy, grinning.

'Shut it,' said Ron, feeling his face go red. But he smiled--it was nice having Percy home, really. Well, now that he'd apologized to the family and finally found a sense of humour.

'I'm off to work, then,' said Percy good-naturedly.

'What about breakfast?' Ginny said. 'You haven't eaten anything.'

'I'll grab something at the office, but thanks for looking out for me, baby sister,' said Percy, and he leaned down and kissed Ginny quickly on the forehead. She rolled her eyes at him affectionately.

'I'm not a baby,' she muttered.

Percy moved away from them, toward the fireplace, dragging his dead leg as he went. Ron kept his eyes fixed on his still-blank parchment. Percy's injury was something that was rarely discussed. Percy himself never complained about it, although a few times Ron had seen the pain written on Percy's face when he moved. He'd grown very adept at using his cane for support, to the point that he could move nearly as well and as fast as anyone with two good legs, but Ron wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the heavy tapping sound Percy's cane made when he walked. It was a reminder to Ron of how close he'd come to losing Percy completely.

'See you two later,' Percy said, taking a handful of Floo Powder. He hadn't Apparated since he got his injury - apparently, injured wizards had a lot more difficulty Apparating, and a bigger chance of splinching themselves. He smiled, threw the powder into the fire, and said 'Ministry of Magic.' He stepped into the green flames and with a WHOOSH! was gone.

For a long moment, there was silence in the wake of Percy's departure. Ron chanced a glimpse up at Ginny, and saw that her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

'Hey,' he said. 'You okay, Gin?'

She sniffed, blinked and nodded. 'Sorry,' she said sheepishly. 'I just...I'm glad he's back, that's all.'

'Me, too,' said Ron, taking Ginny's hand in his and smiling. She smiled back, and Ron felt a kind of calm settle over him. He and Ginny had been close once, a long time ago, when they were just kids. When it was just the two of them and the other Weasley brothers were off at Hogwarts. But they'd drifted apart over the years. Sitting with her now, sharing a silent understanding, was something they'd done a lot as kids, and it was only now that Ron realized how much he had missed it. And then the image came to his mind, unbidden, of the night in the Riddle House, when Voldemort had threatened her. After they'd survived that night, he had vowed to protect her. He felt a pang in his heart and unconsciously squeezed her hand.

'What?' said Ginny.

'Nothing,' said Ron, and he let go of Ginny's hand and looked down at his parchment.

'Ron,' said Ginny, and he felt her eyes on him. 'What?'

He looked up. Girls, he thought, they never let anything rest. Ginny was even worse than Hermione.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny beat him to it.

'You're thinking about that night again, aren't you?' she said, and there was the slightest edge to her voice.

He nodded.

'Ron, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm fine,' she said. She took a deep breath. 'I'm not being possessed, and--'

'I know,' said Ron. 'Look, Gin...I'm sorry. I can't help it. That sick bastard, what he said to you...'

'I remember what he said,' said Ginny, gripping her quill tightly. 'I remember a lot of things.'

'Then why don't you ever talk about it?' said Ron, leaning forward and gripping her hand again. 'Ginny...I know I wasn't there for you when it happened and...I've been a shitty big brother to you for a long time but...it's me, okay? Can't you...can't you talk to me?'

'I don't want to talk about it!' Ginny snapped, yanking her hand away. 'Dammit, Ron, I spent a month in St. Mungo's talking about it, with some stupid psychoanalyst. Some complete idiot who was trying to help me get over the trauma of being possessed by a wizard whose name he couldn't even bring himself to say!'

'Ginny--'

'No, you listen,' said Ginny furiously. 'You can't just expect me to spill everything to you after not bothering to ask for the past six years, okay? For your information, I am fine. I've been fine; I've dealt with the whole "possessed by Tom" thing, do you understand? I've dealt with all the guilt of opening the Chamber and setting the Basilisk loose on the school and scaring the shit out of everyone. It's over and I'm done with it and I don't care to rehash it.'

Ron stared at her. 'You called him Tom.'

'So?'

'So,' said Ron, 'you've called him that before.'

'Well, that's who he was!' Ginny yelled. 'Okay? He wasn't always Voldemort! Once upon a time he was just a boy, a really smart boy who paid attention to me. He was my friend when nobody else was! I can't help it if that's who he was to me!'

'Ginny--'

'Don't you get it, Ron?' Ginny went on. 'When you left for school I had nobody. For a whole bloody year I was miserable because my favourite brother had gone off to school and left me here to hang out with Mum. Who, let's face it, isn't always a barrel of laughs.'

'I couldn't help going to school!' Ron said angrily.

'I know,' said Ginny, and her eyes filled with tears, and she brushed them away impatiently. 'I know you couldn't. But you could have...you could have been nicer when I showed up. You could have...been there.'

Ron looked down at his sister and felt his stomach twist with guilt.

'I'm sorry, Ginny,' he said weakly. 'I'm really sorry.'

'I just wanted to be a part of everything,' Ginny said, biting her lip. 'It was always the boys around here: the boys going out for a swim at the lake, the boys playing a game of Quidditch in the back yard. Do you know how it felt when you wouldn't let me play?'

'Pretty rotten, I imagine,' Ron mumbled, feeling horrible and ashamed.

'Yes, pretty rotten,' said Ginny, and she folded her arms across her chest.

'I've been a selfish arse, haven't I?' said Ron.

'Yeah,' said Ginny, 'but not all the time.'

Ron nodded, at a loss for what to say. Her outburst, which had initially so surprised him, now seemed like it had been a long time coming. How long had she wanted to lash out at him for all those years of pushing her aside?

He felt her hand on his arm and he lifted his gaze to look down at her. She was so small, he noticed just then. Smaller than Hermione, smaller than Mum.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I shouldn't have--'

'No, it's okay,' he said. 'I deserve it.'

'Well, yes, but...I'm still glad you're my brother,' she said. 'Even if you are a thick headed prat.'

'I am that,' Ron said.

'In fairness, though, I'm a stubborn, nosy brat, so I think we're even,' said Ginny. Ron laughed softly, then sobered and put his hands on her shoulders.

'Look, Gin, being that I'm a thick headed prat and need things spelled out for me,' he said, 'just...if you need to tell me something, just tell me, okay? Straight out. Smack me over the head if you need to. I mean, at least let me try to make up for my six years of prat-hood.'

She looked up at him and he saw a twinkle in her bright brown eyes as she made a dramatic show of considering.

'All right, then,' she said, nodding. He smiled, feeling a little better, and let go of her shoulders. He started to sit down again when she took his hand.

'Ron,' she said. 'I really am okay. I mean...I think about Tom Riddle, all right? I do. But...he wasn't a friend. He used me to get to Harry, and he tried to kill me, and I'll hate him forever for that.'

'So will I,' said Ron.

They looked at one another for a long moment, when suddenly another huge explosion ripped the air. Ginny jumped slightly and Ron groaned, and just then the front door slammed open and Mrs. Weasley entered. Her hair was tangled and covered with leaves, and her clothes were patched with dirt.

'Oh, you're awake!' she said, sounding brisk and energized.

'How could we be otherwise?' said Ginny. 'What have you been doing?'

'Helping with the wards, of course,' said Mrs. Weasley, as she hurried into the pantry and began pulling out food. 'Are you two hungry?'

'Not really,' said Ginny.

'Yes,' said Ron as his stomach growled. Ginny giggled and mouthed 'Typical' at him.

'The wards are in good shape so far,' Mrs. Weasley was saying as she waved her wand at the stove and lit the burners. 'Only a few more tests and they should be ready. Then you two can get outside and enjoy the weather.' She stopped stirring eggs in the skillet to look round the kitchen.

'Did Percy already leave?'

'He left fifteen minutes ago,' said Ron.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. 'And I suppose he said he'd get breakfast at work.'

Ron and Ginny nodded. Mrs. Weasley clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

'That boy doesn't eat enough,' she said, returning her attention to her eggs. 'Honestly. As if a cup of coffee and a stale Ministry crumpet is adequate breakfast.'

'Is Dad still out?' said Ginny, clearly wanting to change the subject away from Percy; Mrs. Weasley would go on all day about Percy if one let her.

'Yes,' said Mrs. Weasley, sighing.

'Did they find anything at Malfoy Manor?' Ron asked, giving up on the pretence of doing homework.

'Nothing,' said Mrs. Weasley, 'but they did learn from Draco that Lucius often sold contraband to Borgin and Burke's.'

Ron looked up. 'That's the place Harry Flooed to by mistake back before second year; he told me he saw Lucius Malfoy selling some stuff there.'

'Yes, well,' said Mrs. Weasley, 'I wouldn't be surprised if nothing turns up there, either. Mr. Borgin is shady enough to know when to divest himself of controversial merchandise.'

'Harry's still going to have to testify?' said Ron heavily.

Mrs. Weasley stopped stirring her eggs and looked sadly at her youngest son. 'Barring a miracle, yes. But...oh! I almost forgot. I've been so busy with everything--'

'What?' said Ron and Ginny together.

'Harry is coming here tomorrow,' said Mrs. Weasley happily.

'You're joking,' said Ron.

'No, I'm not,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Apparently Dumbledore has agreed that he no longer needs to stay on with the Muggles. Remus is picking Harry up tomorrow morning. He'll be here by the afternoon.'

'That's brilliant!' said Ron. 'And the wards'll be done by then?'

'They'll be finished,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'You can have your Quidditch practices if you like.'

'I don't know why Harry had to stay with those people, anyway,' said Ginny. 'They sound horrible.'

'They are,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'I'm not sure why Harry had to stay with them, either, dear. Dumbledore had his reasons, but apparently he believes it'll be good for Harry to be surrounded by friends before the trial.'

'Excellent,' said Ron, feeling better than he had all week. He was still furious that Harry had to testify in a trial, and still nervous for Ginny, and he still missed Hermione terribly. But at least Harry would be here, at his real home, (well, second to Hogwarts, anyway) with people who cared about him.

Mrs. Weasley finished cooking the eggs, bacon and toast and piled the food onto plates for Ron and Ginny. Ron ate his and had seconds; Ginny ate half hers and gave the rest to Ron.

'Some day all that eating's going to catch up with you,' said Ginny, rolling her eyes at him.

'Nonsense, he's a growing boy,' said Mrs. Weasley fondly.

'Growing?' said Ginny. 'If he gets any taller his head'll hit the ceiling.'

'I'm not that tall,' said Ron, trying to keep the smugness out of his voice. The truth was, he rather liked being tall.

'Another few inches and you're in Hagrid territory,' said Ginny. He ruffled her hair.

'You're just jealous 'cause you're titchy,' said Ron.

'Petite,' said Ginny, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Ron rolled his eyes at her, but he was glad they were back to being sarcastic with one another. It was normal for them. He picked up his plate, and hers, and took it to the sink. He then picked up his wand and did a Cleaning Charm on the dishes.

Another loud explosion came from somewhere out back.

'Well,' said Mrs. Weasley, pulling her wand out again, 'I'm off to finish checking the wards.'

'Who's here checking them, anyway?'

'Tonks and some young man named Towler,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Kenneth Towler, I think. Anyway, that's why there've been so many explosions. I can't believe Tonks is an Auror--she can barely walk ten feet without tripping over herself. I'm off!'

She gave them a wave and headed out the door, striding determinedly toward the source of the explosions, which appeared to be some distance from the garden.

'Why doesn't she just Apparate there?' Ginny wondered.

'Dunno,' said Ron, and then something occurred to him. 'Maybe the wards prevent anyone from Apparating to and from the house.'

'That makes sense,' Ginny conceded, but just as she sat down, there was a loud CRACK!, then another.

'Then again, maybe not,' said Ron, looking into the living room, where the noises had originated. But nobody was there.

'Weird,' said Ginny.

'I wonder what that was,' said Ron nervously, and he quickly picked up his wand from the kitchen table.

The answer came in the next moment, when a loud whoosh announced the arrival of Fred and George.

They were both spluttering indignantly as they stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot from their clothes. As usual, they were dressed in flashy Muggle togs: leather pants and brightly coloured silk shirts (blue for Fred, green for George). They each wore a new pair of a dragon skin boots and what looked like leather jackets. George was carrying a small haversack.

'Bloody hell,' Fred grunted, annoyed. 'This is a brand new shirt.' He swiped impatiently at a spot of soot on his sleeve.

'What's going on?' said George angrily. 'Why can't we Apparate here?'

'Hello!' said Ron. 'What are you doing here?'

'Nice to see you, too, Ickle Ronnie,' said Fred.

'We're here,' said George dramatically, 'on Order business.'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Lemme guess: Mum's run out of invisible ink.'

Fred gasped and feigned a heart attack. 'Invisible ink?! How DARE you besmirch our product!'

George took up the theme, brandishing the haversack. 'This is no Invisible Ink, you uncultured cretin! THIS is--'

'Weasley's Wily Writer,' said Ron and Ginny.

'Very good!' said Fred. 'And in unison, no less.'

'Mum here?' George asked.

'She's out testing the wards with Tonks,' said Ginny.

'Wards?' said Fred, screwing up his face. 'What wards? The Burrow already has wards.'

'These are new ones,' said Ron.

'Wait, twin,' said George. 'Suddenly...it all becomes clear. New wards. THAT must be why we are reduced to travelling by fireplace.'

'Well, that's just bloody uncouth!' said Fred indignantly. 'Honestly. How is a man supposed to maintain the integrity and cleanliness of his designer wardrobe if he can't--'

'Give it a rest, you two,' said Ron, rolling his eyes.

'What's that?' said George. 'Did I hear our much younger ickle brother mouth off to us?'

'He's gotten a bit cheeky, hasn't he, since we stopped slapping him around?' said Fred. They both looked up at Ron.

'What do you think, Twin?' said Fred. 'Do we take him down a peg or four?'

'Four pegs ought to do it,' said George.

'Please,' said Ron, and he took a step forward and held up his wand. 'I'm six inches taller than the both of you and I can do magic legally and I've gotten pretty good at jinxes. Stop being prats, would you?'

'Look at him, George,' said Fred, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. 'Our ickle brother. He's just so...grown up.'

'It seems like only yesterday you were turning his ickle bear into a giant spider, Fred,' said George.

'Shut up,' said Ron.

'Do you hear that, Twin?' said George indignantly. 'Honestly. So rude. Since we're so obviously not wanted here, we'll head back to our wildly successful shop and continue raking in the Galleons.'

'Meantime,' said Fred, 'tell Mum there's an Order meeting tonight, and Dumbledore wants her there. Seven o'clock sharp.'

'Here's the minutes from the last meeting,' said George, pulling out a roll of parchment. 'And here's the ink.'

'Weasley's Wily Writer, George!' said Fred, punching him in the arm. 'Haven't we talked about the importance of product placement?'

Ron wasn't paying attention to the twins; his eyes had strayed to the rolled up parchment on the table. He'd wanted to join the Order the moment he turned seventeen, but his mother wasn't having any of it. He was barred from joining until he finished school.

It didn't seem fair to Ron. He was Harry's best friend; he'd been through a lot with him, had seen a lot.

And I'm a Seer! he thought. Well, maybe I am, anyway.

Ron started to reach for the parchment.

'Don't bother,' said George. 'Dumbledore sealed that thing and Mum's the only one who knows how to open it up.'

'Damn,' Ron muttered.

'Anything good in there?' Ginny asked, trying to sound casual.

'Nice try, sis,' said Fred. 'We're not allowed to say anything.'

'Oh, come on,' said Ron. 'After what Ginny and I went through a few weeks ago--'

'They're throwing out the old "what we've been through" card again,' said George.

'Damn them,' said Fred. He turned to Ron and Ginny.

'All right, we'll tell you a little bit,' said George. 'Lucius Malfoy's got his trial coming up, and Draco's supposed to testify.'

'Yeah, we know,' said Ginny. 'And Harry, too.'

'Right,' said Fred. 'Well, apparently, Draco's been holed up in St. Mungo's for psychological evaluation and counselling. Word on the street is that the Chief Prosecutor is nervous Draco may fall apart on the stand.'

'Which means the pressure will be on Harry to deliver,' said George.

'Well, there's a surprise,' said Ron sarcastically. 'Harry under pressure.'

'I know, poor sod,' said Fred. 'And now he doesn't even have a girl to give him a Comfort Shag.'

'Fred!' said Ginny angrily. 'Honestly.'

'We saw Susan Bones yesterday, she came into the shop,' said George. 'She was with what's his name from Ravenclaw.'

'Terry Boot,' said Fred. 'Dodgy bloke, him.'

'They were looking rather cosy, too,' said George, shaking his head.

'Girl didn't waste much time,' said Fred, sighing.

'What the bloody hell's she doing with Terry Boot?' Ron demanded. 'She just broke up with Harry!'

'Women,' said George, shrugging. 'What can you do?'

'Horrible creatures, the lot of them,' said Fred.

'Oh, please,' said Ginny.

'I'm afraid that's all we're authorized to tell you,' said George. 'Now we really have to be going. Time is money and all that.'

'Cheers,' said Fred. 'And you might not want to tell Harry about Susan.'

'Wasn't planning on it,' said Ron.

The twins took a handful of Floo Powder, shouted the address of their joke shop, and vanished into the green flames.

Ginny stared after them for a moment, then shook her head.

'Poor Harry,' she said.

Ron grimaced.

Poor Harry indeed: on top of everything, the girl who'd just dumped him was already seeing someone else. Would he ever get a break?