The Final Reckoning

Chapter Thirty-One: Escape and Discovery

The four of them burst into Ron's room, having nearly sprinted from Hopkirk's office.

'Are you okay, Harry?' Hermione and Ginny both asked, as he sat shakily on Ron's chair.

'Jesus,' Harry muttered, shaking his head. 'Jesus.'

'Harry?' said Ron.

Harry looked up; he was ashen-faced. 'That was the single freakiest thing I've ever seen,' he said. 'And I've seen Voldemort up close and personal, so that's saying something.'

'Harry, it's okay,' said Ginny, taking his hand in hers. Ron could see at once that she was stretching out to him with her powers; at once Harry's face relaxed. Ginny grimaced slightly for a moment as she absorbed Harry's fear, and then she, too, relaxed.

'Thanks,' said Harry. 'If I ever start to shoot my mouth off at her again, Stun me.'

'I can't believe she did that,' said Ron. 'Let us see her like that, I mean.'

'I can,' said Hermione, shaking her head as she sat next to Ron on the bed. 'She was proving a point.'

'I'll say,' said Harry. '"Don't fuck with me," sounds about right.'

'That's not it,' Hermione said. 'She might not have wanted to approach you at all, for fear that she'd...hurt you in some way.'

'You mean have sex with me and steal my soul?' said Harry dryly. Ginny swatted him on the arm.

'Well, yes,' said Hermione. 'Didn't you feel what she did?'

'I felt it,' said Harry. 'I nearly wet myself, but I felt it.'

'Remember what I told you?' said Hermione. 'A succubus has an insatiable sexual appetite. Whatever Hopkirk's doing to control herself must be taking a huge toll.'

'Hey, do you think she's taking a potion, like Lupin does?' said Ron.

'There's a good chance of that,' said Hermione, 'only I've never heard of any potion powerful enough to control a succubus. That libido suppressing potion I gave to you wouldn't do a thing for Hopkirk.'

Ron gave a small, choked sound from his throat, and Harry snorted.

'Hang on,' he said. 'You gave Ron a potion to suppress his libido?'

'Shut up, Harry,' Ron muttered.

'Yes,' said Hermione defensively. 'He needed it.'

'Hermione,' Ron groaned.

'Well, you did, you were having a really hard time--'

'Choice words,' Harry muttered.

Ron threw a pillow at Harry's head.

'Ow!' Harry grunted. 'Pillock.'

'Git,' Ron shot back.

'Getting back to Hopkirk,' said Ginny pointedly.

'Yes, well,' said Hermione, 'I was just going to say, if Hopkirk was powerful enough to create a Shield Charm that can block the Killing Curse and if she's spent all that time researching blood things, she probably found or invented a potion or some spell to keep herself under control. Well, most of the time, anyway.'

Ron laughed weakly. 'Just think, Harry. We used to get nervous when you lost your temper.'

'Hopkirk's temper makes Harry's look tame,' said Ginny, smiling at him affectionately.

'Ha ha,' said Harry. 'I'm not that bad.'

Ron, Hermione and Ginny all exchanged looks, and laughed. Harry threw the pillow at Ron, and it smacked him on the head, but a moment later, he too was laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not long after, Harry and Ginny retired for the night. Hermione agreed to spend the night; neither of them were too keen on sleeping alone, after what they'd witnessed in Hopkirk's office.

They lay cuddled up beneath the covers; Ron absently caressed Hermione's hair as she leaned on his chest.

'Weird day,' he said finally.

Understatement of the year.

'Mmm,' was Hermione's reply.

'What's up?' Ron asked, sensing that something was wrong.

'I'm just...thinking,' she said, and she looked up at him. 'And don't say I think too much.'

Ron, whose mouth had been open to say just that, said, 'I wasn't going to say that.'

'I feel like I should be sadder about Dumbledore,' she said. 'But all I can think is that...I'm scared.'

'We're all scared,' Ron said, brushing her hair back from her face with his fingers.

'This is different, Ron,' said Hermione. 'Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort was afraid of. With Dumbledore...out of the way, it might not be long before he tries to come after Harry again.'

Ron swallowed. 'I suppose...we'll just have to be ready for that.' He paused and attempted a jaunty sort of smile. 'Anyway, I'm a Seer, yeah? I'll be able to anticipate Voldemort's big plans.'

Hermione smiled weakly, but her eyes were sad and worried.

'He'll find out,' she said. 'Voldemort, I mean.'

'That I'm a Seer?' said Ron. 'Nobody knows that but us.'

'He'll find out there's a Seer somewhere protecting Harry,' said Hermione. 'Maybe he won't know that it's you but he'll figure it out, if he hasn't already. He'll try to do things to get around you.'

'You think he could?' said Ron.

'I dunno,' said Hermione, shrugging. 'He'll try.'

'Then I'll meditate more,' said Ron. 'Three or four times a day if I have to. More than that.'

'And I'll spend hours in the library translating more codes and coming up with a brilliant plan to help Harry save the world,' said Hermione, smiling sadly.

'Yeah, you will,' said Ron, feeling something in his chest. It wasn't fear, he realized. It was sadness, and it was familiar. It was the sadness of knowing there was no turning back, that they were on a journey that was racing them toward a dangerous, even deadly presence that they might not be able to stop. And even if they did stop it, there would be losses...

'Ron, promise me something,' Hermione whispered, and her eyes shone with tears.

'What?' Ron asked, caressing her cheek, wishing he had some of Ginny's gift to take away whatever bad things she was feeling.

'Promise me you won't leave me,' she said, in a tiny voice, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

Ron gave her a look. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'That's not what I meant.'

Oh. She means...that.

'Hermione...' Ron said, his voice failing him. How could he promise her that? He'd never choose to leave her, that was certain. But how could make a promise like that? What if he...died? In the final outcome? What if she...

No! I won't think about that.

The vision you had...of you and her and that baby. You're not going to die. She's not going to die.

Firenze said the future isn't totally set. That might happen, or it might not.

Do you want it to happen?

'Promise me,' Hermione begged.

Yeah, I do. I want that. Someday.

Ron bit his lip, 'I promise.'

She smiled and wiped her eyes and sank back down onto his chest, cuddling up closer to him. He wrapped her up in his arms and held on, breathing in the scent of her hair.

As he started to drift off, he realized just how badly he wanted that future, the future in his vision. Him, Hermione, a baby, or two, a house and pets and visits from Harry and his family. A life. He hoped she'd want it, too, someday.

Maybe you should tell her about that vision, then.

I can't. It's...mine, you know? And what if...I tell her and I jinx it, or something?

I promise, he thought, closing his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This November was fast becoming the coldest Ron could remember. The first snow fell two days after the announcement of Dumbledore's death, and it was as if someone in the heavens had dumped wheelbarrows of it onto the earth. The temperatures plummeted and Harry decided--rightly so--that it was simply too frigid to practice Quidditch.

Dumbledore's death had set a pall over the school, and most of the students spent several days walking to and from lessons in a kind of dazed shock. Ron, however, felt a new and forceful determination and found himself spending more time on his studies; he wasn't particularly surprised to see Harry follow suit. Staying busy allowed them to keep their minds off the absence of the old Headmaster.

Ron also meditated. He upped his meditations to three times a day, and four on the weekends. Hermione fretted that he was overdoing it, and even Firenze warned him not to overtax himself, but Ron was having none of it. Hermione was right, it was only a matter of time before Voldemort figured out that a Seer was out there working against him. Even if Ron wouldn't be the one to face Voldemort in the end, he could at least make it easier for Harry to do so.

Hermione spent more time in the library, working on the codes. The Kensington Rune Stone cipher, she said, was relatively simple but very time consuming to slog through.

Lessons became more onerous as the Christmas holidays approached. Snape was again piling on essays and his latest round of potions were venom antidotes which required close and frequent handling of dangerous venomous animals, including three-headed snakes called runespoors, a particularly frightening variety of giant lizard, and disgusting looking sea creatures called a lobalugs.

Care of Magical Creatures lessons were moved indoors due to the extreme cold; the Spiketail dragons had grown several inches and were now the size of kittens, and a few of them were just starting to show evidence of diamond-like growths on the ends of their tails.

Professor McGonagall returned to teaching Transfiguration, and they began a unit on human transformations into inanimate objects. It was, McGonagall declared, a starting point toward learning how to become an Animagus, but as the skill was extremely difficult and tightly regulated, she wouldn't be teaching it in classes, and anyone who wanted to learn it would need to get Ministry approval. Ron had always assumed Hermione would jump at the chance to learn, but she demurred.

'There's simply too much for me to do,' she admitted, looking a bit disappointed.

Ron was grateful, at least, that she was finally learning a sense of limits for herself.

In the meantime they practiced turning each other into wardrobes and dressers; Ron managed the spell at the end of class and avoided extra homework, but transforming into a nightstand was, he decided, really quite painful.

Charms lessons, meanwhile, took on a slightly new slant. Professor Flitwick announced that, in consultation with Professor Hopkirk, there would be overlap in both Charms and Defence lessons. Defence would focus further of methods of wandless magic and wandless defence, whilst in Charms they would practice defensive charms and spells and duelling. Professor Flitwick quickly impressed the seventh years with his duelling abilities, made all the more astonishing given how tiny he was. Very quickly, Charms lessons competed with Defence lessons as the most physically draining, but Ron didn't mind. The physical exertion helped his mental focus and gave him more energy, and most importantly, kept his mind off Dumbledore and the trials to come.

Professor Hopkirk hadn't said a word to Ron, Harry, Hermione or Ginny since that night in her office. She seemed more business-like than ever, brusque and commanding, but Ron noticed the tight set to her jaw and the way she avoided making eye contact with him or Harry.

All told, there was a new frisson of energy amongst the faculty, even as the students clawed their way out of the shock of Dumbledore's death. The teachers seemed more determined than ever for the students to learn, and learn as much as possible in as short a time as possible. Never before did Ron hear more complaining, from his house-mates and other students, across all year levels, about the amount of school work being given them. For his part, Ron could only remain determined and focused. For the first time in his life, he didn't mind his heavy schedule.

Hermione's discipline is rubbing off on me.

As the Christmas holidays approached, that nervous energy within the faculty spread to the students as well. Nearly all the students opted to go home to their families this year. Ron knew Hermione planned to do the same, and he tried not to worry, but it was hopeless not to. Hermione assured him, repeatedly, that her parents' house was being carefully guarded and there were powerful protective wards on it, but this did little to ease Ron's mind. Hermione might be a very capable witch but even she wouldn't be able to take on multiple, determined Death Eaters, and her parents...what could they, as Muggles, do to defend themselves and their daughter?

In the meantime, Ron's meditations, while revealing more frequent and vivid visions, were nonetheless filled with unknown people and unknown situations; family squabbles and Muggle violence and things he couldn't relate to. He wrote everything down anyway, including his dreams, and by the end of the first week of December he had started on his second diary.

His dreams were mostly pointless, but for the recurring dreams centering on Gryffindor's sword. A new dream came to Ron one night. In it, Harry was wielding the sword. The blade was coated in blood, and Harry stood apparently alone in a very brightly lit room. All around the room were the sounds of strange hissing. Ron told Harry, Hermione and Ginny about the dream, and they all agreed on its meaning.

'Harry has to use the sword against Voldemort,' said Hermione. 'That must be it.'

Harry smirked. 'A sword fight. Perfect. I suppose I should take fencing lessons.'

'Whose blood was on the blade?' Ginny asked.

'Dunno,' said Ron, shrugging. 'Maybe Harry got a good swipe in and it's Voldemort's blood.'

Hermione said nothing, but she looked slightly uneasy as she added a quick note about Ron's latest dream to her massive list.

In the meantime, D.A. meetings continued. Hopkirk had them all working on wandless magic in lessons, and she carried that over into the meetings as well. Harry and Luna were best at it, by far; clearly Harry's weekly meetings with Luna were paying off. Neville, however, seemed to have either given up assisting Hopkirk during the meetings, or perhaps Hopkirk had decided she did not need or want Neville's help. Indeed, on two occasions, Neville was entirely absent from the meetings. When Ron asked Luna in passing about this, she would only look at him in that enigmatic way of hers and say, cryptically, that Neville was 'busy with something else.' Ron noticed that Harry looked away with an odd expression on his face.

Harry knows what Neville's up to. Bet if I ask him, he doesn't say what it is.

And indeed, when Ron tried to ask Harry about Neville's doings, Harry gave an apologetic shrug and refused to answer. Ron let it go; he liked Neville but he figured whatever Neville was doing in his spare time was none of his business. And in any case, Ron had other things to be worrying about.

Such as end of term exams, which proved to be nothing short of a nightmare. The exams were what Professor McGonagall termed 'mock N.E.W.Ts.' Seamus asked hopefully if this meant that the marks they got on them didn't count, but McGonagall dashed those hopes by saying, 'Yes, Mr. Finnigan, they very much do count.'

And so the seventh years put their heads down and endured the winter exams. Ron found himself studying more than he ever had in his life. He had little free time to spend with Hermione, or Harry and Ginny, or anyone else. Head Boy duties became a chore, as well, in that he and Hermione were having to assist Professor McGonagall in making various safe transportation arrangements for the students going home for the holidays.

By the time the exams were half over, Ron felt as though his brain were melting. He found that the only way to keep his mind focused was to cut back on meditating to once a day. Firenze was not especially happy about this, but there was nothing to be done about it. In any case, the centaur was otherwise so pleased with Ron's progress in their training sessions that he agreed to cut back the sessions to twice a month instead of once a week.

A week before Christmas, Ron thankfully had only two exams left. In keeping with the overlap of Defence lessons and Charms, those exams were to be combined into one three hour session. The first hour was written and the second two practical. Ron awoke early on Monday morning and looked through some of his notes quickly--finally, after six and half years he was taking all his own notes--and then stretched carefully, ignoring the soreness in his muscles from the many weeks of physical activity that had become Charms and Defence lessons. He was grateful today's exam was the last.

He sat down to meditate, conjuring the portable fire and burning some herbs--he'd gotten a fresh supply from Firenze. Ron stared into the flames for a good minute, breathing deeply, and then he closed his eyes and inhaled the scents from the burning herbs. He began to hear voices...distant voices. Three of them. Two had decidedly foreign accents, and one was very familiar...

Ron gasped. Behind his closed eyelids he saw Charlie, pacing in an unfamiliar room, holding his wand. He looked agitated, even angry. Across from him was Igor Karkaroff. Ron squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to lose the vision. Charlie was talking...

'If you run, I can't protect you,' said Charlie.

'If I don't run, they vill find me!' shouted Igor Karkaroff.

'Not if you continue to cooperate,' said Charlie forcefully.

Karkaroff gave a derisive snort. 'This is not about protecting me,' he said. 'This is about protecting yourself. If they catch me, they vill make me talk, and I vill expose you and your precious Order. I know too much. I'm as dangerous to you as I am to them.'

'Don't flatter yourself, Igor,' Charlie snapped. 'You're right, I don't much care about you. I'm in this for the Order, not you. But you're in my custody and you're not going anywhere.'

'If I had a vand, I would--'

'But you don't, do you?' Charlie interrupted, gripping his own. 'Someone's going to steal dragon eggs from the compound in Romania, Igor. Who is it?'

'I don't know!' Karkaroff shouted.

'Bullshit,' said Charlie. 'Don't lie!'

'I svear I don't know,' said Karkaroff. 'I only know vat I vas told by...by my source. The Dark Lord vants dragons. He's...he vants them for experiments, he thinks he might be able to find a vay to better control them. That's all I know.'

Charlie eyed Karkaroff sceptically for a long moment, but then he nodded.

'Fine,' he said. 'That's useful, anyway. When can you meet with--'

Whatever Charlie was going to say was cut off by a loud explosion that blew apart the door behind him. He gave a yell, whirled round and aimed his wand at the destroyed door, but a flash of light exploded from out of the dust, and Charlie was hurled backwards. He landed painfully on his back on the stone floor, but clutched his wand firmly and aimed it again as four hooded Death Eaters burst into the small room, and everything happened at once.

'Expell--' Charlie began.

'Silencio!' shouted one of the Death Eaters. The voice was strong but feminine, and her spell struck Charlie squarely in the face. Before he could act, the Death Eater aimed her wand again.

'Confringere femoris!' she hissed, and Charlie gave a scream of pain as the jet of red light struck his leg; there was the sickening sound of bone breaking, shattering. The Death Eater then disarmed Charlie with a third spell, and his wand went clattering across the floor.

Ron's body jerked and he began to tremble; sweat poured down his forehead. Charlie was in trouble. Very big trouble.

Almost as quickly as the violence started, it stopped, and the four Death Eaters circled round Charlie and Karkaroff. Charlie gripped his useless leg and gazed up at them, white-faced but defiant. Karkaroff was cowering in a corner. He didn't even try to grab for Charlie's wand, which was only five feet away.

'Well, well, Weasley,' said the female Death Eater, and she pulled back her hood to reveal Helene Rosier. 'Fancy meeting you here.' She turned to Igor Karkaroff and smiled coldly. 'Thanks ever so much, Igor, for leading us to Mr. Weasley.'

Charlie's face contorted in rage. 'You son of a bitch,' he growled, glaring at Karkaroff.

'No,' said Karkaroff. 'No, no, I didn't...I svear...'

'It's true, Charles,' said Rosier, her smile cruel and hard. 'Igor didn't tell us where you were. He just wasn't very careful in his choice of company. His source helped us locate the two of you.'

Karkaroff blanched and shrank back against the wall.

'Who's your source, Igor?' Charlie yelled.

But Karkaroff was babbling incoherently and sobbing now.

'No use asking him, Charles,' said Rosier. 'He's not really been much good to you, has he? Well, he hasn't been much good to us, either. So it appears poor Igor has entirely outlived his usefulness on all fronts.'

She curled her lip into a small sneer, and turned to face Karkaroff; she raised her wand and pointed it at Karkaroff, and already green sparks were forming at the tip.

'Don't...' Charlie cried.

'Please!' Karkaroff begged.

'Avada Kedavra,' she said, in almost a whisper. There was a rush of green light, and Charlie and Karkaroff both screamed, but Karkaroff's scream went silent as the green light struck him in the chest. As he slumped to the floor, dead, his face was frozen in an expression of horror, his mouth open.

Ron moaned and gripped his head; the vision wouldn't let go, it was agony, he had to move, he had to warn McGonagall...he couldn't move...Charlie...

'You evil bitch!' Charlie spat.

Helene Rosier turned back to Charlie. She knelt down in front of Charlie and ran a gloved finger across his cheek.

'Don't touch me,' he hissed.

Rosier smiled a cold, seductive smile. 'I do hate using the Killing Curse,' she said, in a low voice. 'It's so dull, and it's over too fast.'

From behind her, three male voices laughed, the sounds filtering eerily out from their hoods.

'You're sick,' Charlie wheezed, the pain of his leg getting to him now. 'You're all sick. You can't win this, you won't...'

'Shh,' said Rosier, putting a finger to Charlie's white, chapped lips. 'Don't bother yourself with the final outcome, Charles. You won't be there to see it.' She paused and traced her thumb over his lip; he jerked his head away.

'I think I'll do you slowly,' she whispered. 'Have a little fun. Tell me, Charles, do you like pain?'

'Go to hell,' Charlie growled, and he spat in her face.

For a split second Rosier recoiled, and then she laughed and licked Charlie's saliva from the corner of her lip, wiping the rest away with a gloved hand. She stood up and turned to one of the Death Eaters behind him.

'Rodolphus, pourquoi pas tu commence des choses?' she said. 'Tes méthodes sont toujours ainsi...inspirer.' ⁽¹⁾

Rodolphus Lestrange pulled back his hood and smiled coldly down at Charlie.

'C'est mon plaisir,' ⁽²⁾ the Death Eater hissed. He lifted his wand and pointed it at Charlie.

NO!

There was a flash of white light, and a scream of pain that echoed in Ron's brain and suddenly Ron opened his eyes, and he was screaming, and the vision was gone. Vaguely, as if from very far away, he heard pounding.

Ron collapsed onto the floor, clutching his head. Nausea roiled through him and before he could stop himself, he rolled onto his side and vomited on the floor. And still the pounding went on.

He moaned, and suddenly the door to his room burst open.

'Ron!'

He looked up and saw Hermione running at him.

'Oh, God!' she cried, and she grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him up, but he was too heavy, he felt like deadweight. Why couldn't he move? He had to warn McGonagall, Charlie was in trouble!

'Ron, what is it?' Hermione cried.

Ron coughed and grimaced as, by sheer force of will, he picked himself up off the floor and rose to his knees. He had to get to McGonagall's office, this wasn't just an ordinary vision, he had a very, very bad feeling about it...like it could happen any moment, like he was too late, too late to save Charlie...

'Vision...' Ron croaked. 'Help me...I have to see McGonagall...'

'Ron, you're sick, you can't--'

'Charlie's in trouble!' Ron yelled.

Hermione's eyes widened and for a moment she seemed frozen in place, but then she nodded sharply.

'Come on, I'll help you,' she said firmly, and the two of them hobbled out of his room.

Almost at once they came face to face with two Aurors.

'We heard shouting,' said one of them, a short, muscular witch with spiky blonde hair.

'He needs to see the Headmistress right now,' said Hermione.

'Is he all right?' said the other Auror, a slim, wiry wizard with black hair.

'I'm fine!' Ron shouted angrily. 'I have to see McGonagall now!'

'Okay,' said the Auror witch. 'Just relax. We'll go with you.'

'We have to hurry,' said Ron, feeling that with every passing second, Charlie was one step closer to dying.

The four of them rushed through the corridors as quickly as they could, considering that Ron was still dizzy and trying to get his feet under him. He didn't notice that he was still in his pyjamas and hadn't even bothered with a dressing gown, or that the cold stone of the floor was painfully cold on his bare feet.

They rounded a corner and ran into Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson.

'Watch it!' Malfoy snapped, and then he sneered. 'Nice outfit, Weasley.'

'Sod off, Malfoy,' Ron growled.

'Why are you such a hurry?' Malfoy asked, stepping in front of Ron again.

'None of your business, Draco!' Hermione snapped.

'Shut up, Mudblood,' Pansy snapped.

'Go to hell!' Hermione bit back, and she pulled her wand from her robes and pointed it at Pansy's nose. 'Now get out of the way, you stupid cow, or I'll--'

'That's enough,' said an icy voice, and the group of them turned to see Professor McGonagall striding angrily toward them. She glowered at Hermione. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'Professor, Granger threatened me--' Pansy began.

'I was addressing Miss Granger,' McGonagall snapped, without looking at Pansy. Pansy flushed angrily and went quiet, but she and Draco fixed murderous looks at the back of McGonagall's head.

'Ron needs to talk to you,' said Hermione. 'It's important.'

'I would imagine so, considering his state of dress,' said McGonagall. She turned sharply to the two Aurors. 'Escort Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson to the Great Hall. They'll be wanting their breakfasts.'

Malfoy scowled at McGonagall, but both he and Pansy allowed themselves to be led away. Pansy turned back and curled her lip into a sneer as she glared at Ron. Ron was just about to make a very rude gesture at Pansy when McGonagall spoke.

'Shall we go to my office, Mr. Weasley, or can you fill me in on your urgent news here?'

Ron whirled back to McGonagall and swallowed. By now Draco and Pansy had turned the corner and the corridors were empty. Ron leaned forward slightly.

'It's Charlie,' he whispered. 'I saw something. He was in a meeting with Karkaroff and they were attacked by Death Eaters. It was really bad...the vision...I think...I'm not sure when it's going to happen but it feels like it could be really soon--'

'Enough,' said McGonagall. 'Come with me.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor McGonagall had left them in her office for the past twenty minutes, and it was the longest twenty minutes of Ron's life. Hermione sat quietly in a chair and said nothing, and Ron was immensely grateful for this as he paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. He needed the silence, he couldn't sit down. The only thing McGonagall had told them was to stay in her office and wait until she returned.

There was a bang as the door swung open, but instead of McGonagall, it was Ginny and Harry.

'Ron!' Ginny cried, racing into his arms. 'What's going on, some Auror came and mentioned something about Charlie--'

'Ron's had a vision,' said Hermione, struggling to keep her voice calm. 'Charlie got hurt in it. There were Death Eaters.'

Ginny blanched and grabbed Harry's hand.

'But he'll be okay, won't he?' Harry asked.

'Dunno,' said Ron, feeling sick again. 'The vision went away before I could...see the end of it.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Okay,' he said. 'Okay. Look, we just...have to wait and...and stay calm.'

Another five minutes passed, and another, and finally Ron felt himself crack.

'What the bloody hell is taking so long?' he bit out.

Hermione grabbed his hand and he stopped pacing and looked down at her. She stood up and embraced him about his waist; Ron's arms automatically encircled her.

'I'm scared,' he heard himself say. 'What if...shit...I just have this feeling...what if I didn't see it in time?'

Hermione said nothing, because there was nothing she could say. She held onto him and he to her. Harry and Ginny clutched hands, and Ginny seemed to be willing herself to maintain some semblance of calm as they waited for McGonagall to return. After another fifteen minutes, she did, and her presence was announced by the sharp bang of her door as it opened.

Ron and Hermione broke apart quickly, but McGonagall didn't seem to notice they had been embracing. Instead she stopped in front of Ron and Ginny.

'Your brother is alive,' she said.

Ron let out a breath of relief, but Ginny bit her lip and looked troubled.

'He's alive...' she said, 'but...'

'He's been hurt,' McGonagall said. 'Badly. The Death Eaters got to him before we could.'

Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth, and Ron swallowed as his stomach dropped to the floor.

'Jesus...' he whispered.

'They surprised the Death Eaters, and there was a fight,' said McGonagall. 'Your brother was badly injured and disarmed but he managed to get his wand. He killed one of the Death Eaters, but one of the Aurors died in the fight as well, and the other Death Eaters escaped. Your brother's been taken to the local magical hospital and is being treated as we speak. His injuries are...severe, but it looks like he'll pull through. Your parents have been informed of this, and they have arranged to have Charles come home once he is fit to travel.'

Ron let out another breath. 'Thank god,' he murmured. Ginny was suddenly there beside him and took his hand.

'Your brother gave us some very valuable information before he was taken to hospital, Mr. Weasley,' said McGonagall. 'In saving his life, you might help prevent a greater disaster.'

Ron nodded weakly. 'The dragons?'

'Dragons?' Harry asked.

'Yes,' said McGonagall. 'I cannot go into any details, naturally, but Charlie Weasley was able to put us one step ahead of Voldemort's plans.'

Harry looked as if he wanted to ask more questions, but the look on McGonagall's face must have stopped him. She turned to Ron and Ginny.

'Are you both fit to go to lessons today?' she asked. 'To sit your exams?'

Ron blinked, and met her eyes. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I mean, yes, I am.'

'Me, too,' said Ginny firmly.

'Are you sure?' she asked. 'I'm happy to make your excuses if you feel a visit to Madam Pomfrey is in order.'

'No, thank you,' said Ron at once, shaking his head, and suddenly he remembered something. 'Er...what about...Karkaroff?'

McGonagall stiffened just slightly. 'Igor Karkaroff is dead.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'What's Voldemort want with dragons?' Harry hissed, the moment they were out of McGonagall's office.

'What do you think?' said Ron in a low voice, glancing at the Auror ahead of them to make sure he wasn't listening. 'He wants to do experiments on them and learn how to...train them or something. Then he can set them loose on cities or villages. All the dragons have to do is breathe and a whole town would go up in flames.'

'Rubbish,' said Hermione at once.

'Not rubbish,' said Ron. 'My brother works with dragons, remember, I know a little bit about them, and Harry flew up against one--'

'I'm not saying your point is rubbish, Ron,' said Hermione. 'The rubbish is Voldemort thinking he has a hope in Hades of actually getting dragons tame enough to do what he wants.'

'Hermione's right,' said Ginny. 'It's really hard to use magic on dragons, anyway, what with their tough skins.'

'And let's not forget,' Harry muttered, 'Hagrid tried to raise a dragon once and it didn't exactly work out, did it?'

Ron grimaced. He didn't really want to imagine what Hagrid was doing now, where he was. Did he know about Dumbledore? Ron could only imagine Hagrid's reaction to the news. He would flood his pumpkin patch with his crying.

'Well,' said Ron, 'Hopkirk said Voldemort is starting to get a bit sick because he's got Harry's blood in him. Maybe he's going mental. Not that he wasn't mental before.'

'Let's talk about this later, Ron,' Hermione whispered, when the Auror in front of them turned back to watch them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Are you sure you're going to be okay, Ron?' Hermione asked, as they entered his room.

'Yeah,' said Ron dully. 'I'll be fine.'

Ginny had gone to breakfast with Harry with assurances that she was, indeed, just fine.

He glanced over at the floor and noticed the small pool of vomit there, that had started to harden in his absence, and he grimaced.

'I've got that,' said Hermione quickly, and she aimed her wand at the mess and vanished it, then applied a Scouring Charm for good measure. She turned to Ron and looked at him with a concerned expression.

'You're feeling guilty about Karkaroff, aren't you?' she said perceptively.

'I just...why didn't I see that sooner?' he asked.

'I don't know,' said Hermione truthfully. 'I don't...understand the way Seer things work.'

Ron nodded. 'At least Charlie's going to be okay,' he said.

'And he's coming home,' said Hermione. 'That's good news. You'll see him over Christmas.'

'Yeah,' said Ron, and he looked at his bed and suddenly felt exhausted. He wished he could crawl into it and bury himself under the covers, and wake up when the stupid war was all over.

'Ron, maybe you should talk to Firenze about this,' Hermione said gently.

Ron looked at her and felt a lump in his throat. They had come so far together, the two of them. She wasn't trying to force him to talk to her, as she might have done in the past. She was instead offering a gentle suggestion on how to deal with things on his own, and he was grateful for that, grateful for her, and grateful to fate or god or whatever that she was his girl.

'I'll do that,' he said. 'I need a shower.'

'You're sure you want to do your exams?'

'Yeah,' he said fervently. 'Better to get it over with.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, Ron felt more like himself. True, the Charms/Defence exam had been long and arduous, but the physical activity had brought him back to himself and taken his mind off the lingering twinge of guilt about Karkaroff's murder. Ron made a mental note to seek out Firenze for a chat later that night, after dinner.

It was early evening and Ron and Hermione were heading to the Great Hall for dinner when they came face to face with two Aurors, Ginny, and their mother.

'Mum?' said Ron.

'Mrs. Weasley!' said Hermione.

'Hello, Hermione dear,' said Mrs. Weasley, in a rushed sort of voice. 'Ron, I need to speak with you and Ginny right now.'

'What are you doing here?' Ron asked. 'Ginny, where's Harry?'

'He's helping Neville with something,' said Ginny, and she scowled just slightly. 'He wouldn't tell me what it was, so don't ask.'

'I wasn't going to,' said Ron, suddenly supremely unconcerned about what Harry was doing with Neville. He looked at his mother. 'Mum, what's going on?'

'I'll explain everything, let's just get to your room, all right?' said Mrs. Weasley, and she lowered her voice. 'What I have to say I can't discuss out here.'

'But what about dinner?' said Ron, and on cue, his stomach rumbled.

'Ron, honestly,' said Hermione, 'I'll bring you something later--'

'I can do that!' said a high, squeaky voice.

Ron and Hermione looked at one another in confusion.

'I is eager to help!' said the voice again and Ron and Hermione looked down to see...

'Winky?' they said weakly, in unison.

'Winky is working for Mr. and Mrs. Wheezy!' said the little house elf, and she curtsied to Ron and Hermione. She wore a simple beige tea-towel that, clearly, Mrs. Weasley had fashioned into a sort of dress, and a small apron about her waist.

'Since when?' said Ron, astonished. Hermione was gawping at Winky like a fish out of water.

'For the past few months,' said Mrs. Weasley impatiently. 'Now let's go. Hermione dear, forgive us, but Ron will have to see you later.'

'That's...fine, Mrs. Weasley,' said Hermione, looking at her, and then at Winky. 'I'll see you later, Ron,' she added, pecking him quickly on the cheek and walking toward the Great Hall.

'Please tell me you're paying Winky, Mum,' said Ron, in a low voice.

'Oh, no!' said Winky brightly. 'Winky is not wanting pay!'

'I've tried, dear,' said Mrs. Weasley in a low voice, addressing Ron, 'but she just won't accept any money.' She turned her attention to Winky.

'Winky, would you mind fetching some dinner for us and bringing it to Ron's room? You know the one, the Head Boy's room?'

Ron noticed that his mother said 'Head Boy' with no small amount of pride in her voice, and he rolled his eyes; Ginny caught him at it and smiled.

'Oh, yes, Mrs. Wheezy!' Winky babbled. 'I is fetching you wonderful things to eat!'

'Say hi to Dobby!' Ron called, as the little house elf went bobbling off toward the kitchens.

'Ron, let's go,' said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and he followed his mother and Ginny toward his room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They entered Ron's room, and he sealed the door shut behind them.

'I couldn't owl you about Charlie,' said Mrs. Weasley, in a firm voice. 'I'm sorry for that.'

'It's okay,' said Ron. 'We understand. Security and everything.'

'I just wanted you both to know that your father's with him, and Charlie's going to be fine,' said Mrs. Weasley, and her voice began to shake slightly. 'His leg was very badly injured--the bones were shattered and will have to be regrown--and he was bleeding quite badly when he was brought to hospital but the healers...they patched him up in a trice. He'll have to wear a leg brace for a bit but he's coming home Christmas Eve. Arthur's going to stay with him until then. The security is extremely tight at the hospital, I'm told. Lots of wards and spells and they're using trolls...'

Her voice broke off, and she turned away from her son and daughter. Ron watched his mother for a moment, and suddenly saw her shoulders begin to shake.

'Hey, Mum...'

Mrs. Weasley let out a sob.

Ron crossed the room and hugged her. 'It's okay, Mum, Charlie's okay,' he said.

'I know,' Mrs. Weasley whimpered. 'It's just...I don't know how much more I can take. First Arthur, then Percy, then Charlie...are all of you going to get yourselves horribly injured and put me through hell?' She laughed bitterly as she pulled herself out of Ron's embrace.

Ron and Ginny laughed with her, and for a moment nobody said a word.

'I didn't just come here to tell you about your brother,' she said, sniffing. 'I suppose this could have waited until you come home at the weekend but...I want you both to be careful.'

'Of course we'll be careful,' said Ginny at once.

'Now listen to me, young lady,' said Mrs. Weasley firmly. 'I know you're both very close to Harry, and you know I love Harry as a son. And we all know Harry would never do anything to get you hurt. I don't blame Harry for what's happened over the past few years, with you lot running after him to fight Death Eaters, although Merlin knows if I had any sense I'd have locked you all in the attic with the ghoul.'

'Mum--' Ginny began.

'I'm just saying,' said Mrs. Weasley, 'I know how you both are. You're going to want to help Harry and I know I can't stop you and I know...I know he'll need your help. But...' Her eyes filled again. 'Just please...look after yourselves, and each other, all right? Don't go doing anything stupid.'

'I won't,' said Ginny. 'I'm not so sure about Ron, though.'

'Very funny,' said Ron sarcastically, but Mrs. Weasley laughed.

'You two,' she said fondly. 'I can't believe my two youngest babies have grown up.'

'Mum,' said Ron, flushing with embarrassment.

'I'm so proud of you both,' she said, smiling tearfully.

'Mum, knock it off,' said Ginny, blushing herself.

'Oh, stop,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'I'm your mother, I changed your dirty nappies. I'm allowed to embarrass you.'

Before Mrs. Weasley could embarrass them further, however, there was a knock at the door.

Ron waved his wand at his door and said, 'Come in,' and the door swung open.

'I is here!' Winky cried, but Ron could hardly see her, for on her head was balanced one food tray, and on each hand rested another. Each wobbled dangerously. 'Here is Wheezys' dinners!'

'Thank you, Winky, dear,' said Mrs. Weasley, rushing over to fetch the trays before they all came crashing down.

'Say, Winky,' said Ron, 'are you sure you wouldn't like...a little...Knut for your trouble?'

Winky let out a little wail and put her hands over her ears. 'Oh no! Mr. Wheezy is not offering Winky wages! Winky is not wanting wages!'

'All right, all right,' said Ron quickly, putting up his hands.

'It's all right, Winky,' said Mrs. Weasley, giving Ron a dark look before turning her attention back to the house elf. 'Ron didn't mean anything by that.'

Winky let out a breath of relief. 'Is there anything more Wheezys require?'

'No, Winky, thank you,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Why don't you...have a break? I'd like to catch up with Ron and Ginny.'

'Yes, Mrs. Wheezy,' said Winky, and she curtsied and walked with great dignity from the room.

'Ron, did you really have to offer her money?' said Mrs. Weasley, shaking her head. 'Honestly. I told you I've tried but the poor thing just goes into hysterics at the mere mention of getting paid.'

'It was just a thought,' said Ron, glaring at Ginny, who was giggling at him behind her hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Ginny finished their dinner and left his room; Mrs. Weasley was to Floo out of McGonagall's fireplace back to Grimmauld Place.

As they rounded the corner, they were met by Hermione.

'Oh!' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Hello, dear.'

'Hi, Mrs. Weasley,' she said. She leaned closer. 'How's Charlie?'

'He'll be okay,' said Mrs. Weasley, smiling at her fondly. 'Thanks for getting Ron to Minerva's office.' Hermione nodded and smiled back, but then her attention fell on Winky.

'Hello, Winky,' said Hermione sweetly. Ron felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Uh oh...

'How do you like working for the Weasleys?' she asked.

'Winky is enjoying being the Wheezys house elf very much, miss,' said Winky politely, but Ron noticed there was a wariness to her gaze as she looked at Hermione.

'And how do you like getting p--' Hermione began.

'She loves it,' said Ron quickly. 'It's great, really. Mum gives her loads, don't you, Mum?'

Ron gave his mother a significant look.

Mrs. Weasley stared at Ron for a moment, and then seemed to understand Ron's meaning.

'Oh, yes,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Well, of course, Fred and George help out, but...Winky is very well compensated.'

'But Mrs. Wheezy!' said Winky. 'I is not--'

'Needing all that much,' Ron finished. 'Which is good because, well, we're not really rolling in it, are we? Listen, Hermione, Gin and I are going to walk Mum to Professor McGonagall's office. Can we meet you back in the common room?'

'Sure,' said Hermione, looking at him suspiciously. 'I'll see you shortly.'

'Yeah, shortly,' said Ron, grinning a bit too widely.

She is so not fooled. I am in for a lecture later.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and followed his mother and Ginny; Ginny was still laughing silently behind her hand.

They walked quickly through the corridors toward and turned a corner; at the same moment Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle came from the opposite direction. Nott collided with Ginny, and they both stumbled. Ron caught Ginny and Goyle caught Nott.

'Watch where you're going!' Nott snarled, glaring at Ginny.

'Shut up, Nott,' Ginny snarled, righting herself.

'Children, really!' said Mrs. Weasley 'This is no way to--'

'Who the hell are you?' Nott snapped rudely, but before Mrs. Weasley could register her indignation he chuckled.

'Never mind, I know,' he said, sneering at Ron. 'Does everyone in your family have the same ridiculous hair, Weasley?'

'Eat dung, Nott,' Ron snapped.

'Ron!' Mrs. Weasley hissed, and she turned to Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. 'You boys go on. And learn some manners while you're at it.'

'I don't have to listen to you,' Nott snarled.

'No, but you do have to listen to me,' Ron barked. 'I'm Head Boy, see. Keep being rude and you lot get detention.'

'Ooh, we're really scared,' Nott mocked. 'Hear that, Crabbe, Goyle? Weasley's Head Boy.'

'That's enough,' said a stern voice, and Ron turned to see Professor McGonagall approaching, looking irritated.

'You boys,' she said, nodding at Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. 'Move along.'

'Yes, Headmistress,' said Nott, smiling coldly. Crabbe and Goyle started to stump off, but Nott shot one last glare at Ron and Ginny.

'By the way,' he said, 'lucky thing about your brother. He nearly got himself killed.'

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley both gasped; Ron blanched, and then went red in the face.

'What did you say?' he snarled, advancing on Nott. Mrs. Weasley grabbed his sleeve.

'Ron,' she muttered.

'Mr. Weasley,' said Professor McGonagall, a note of warning in her voice. She turned back to Nott. 'Move along, Mr. Nott. Right now. And go straight to your common room.' She nodded to an Auror pacing several feet away.

'Stebbins, would you mind?'

'Not at all, Professor,' said Stebbins, a tall witch with sandy hair. She gave Nott a curt nod. 'Gentlemen?'

Nott sneered at Ron once more, and then gave Mrs. Weasley a hateful look before sweeping down the corridor behind Stebbins, with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

'What was that?' Ron said, through gritted teeth. 'How can he know about Charlie?'

'From his father,' said Professor McGonagall, with a look of deep distaste on her face.

'That boy's father was there when Charlie got hurt?' said Mrs. Weasley, in a horrified voice.

'Not here, Molly,' McGonagall whispered. 'Please, in my office.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'So you're saying,' said Ron furiously, as he paced around McGonagall's office, 'that Theodore Nott's dad was one of the Death Eaters who tried to murder my brother. And that prat son of his is allowed to just...walk about the school, la di da, no problem?'

'Ron, please control yourself,' said Mrs. Weasley.

'Mum, Nott's dad tried to kill Charlie!' said Ron. 'And you just know Theodore's a member of Voldemort's crew now. Has anyone checked his forearm lately for any tattoos?'

'Mr. Weasley,' said McGonagall imperiously, 'I understand your concern and your anger, but your temper is not helping. For the record, Theodore and his friends Vincent and Gregory are being closely watched by their Head of House--'

'Snape,' said Ron. 'And what can Snape do, exactly, now his cover's blown.'

'Professor Snape, Ronald,' said McGonagall sharply. 'And Severus is capable of doing quite a lot more than you know.'

'Can Nott be expelled?' Ginny asked.

'He can, if he is caught doing something worthy of expulsion,' said McGonagall. 'I'm sorry for you both, believe me. This is the not the first time I've had to teach the children of Death Eaters. But this is a school and we are governed by very clear rules. We cannot go expelling students based on vague suspicions, or based on their relatives' extracurricular activities.'

'Extracurricular--you're calling that--his dad tried to MURDER CHARLIE!' Ron yelled.

'Ron!' Mrs. Weasley snapped, getting up and smacking him on the back of the head, hard. 'That's enough. How dare you raise your voice to the Headmistress!'

'Ow, Mum,' Ron hissed, rubbing the back of his head angrily. He opened his mouth to say something else but Ginny grabbed his hand and squeezed. At once he felt a flood of calming emotion fill him, and he relaxed and let out a breath.

He looked at Professor McGonagall sheepishly, and then at his mother.

'Sorry,' he mumbled. 'I'm sorry. I was out of line.'

Mrs. Weasley harrumphed and Ron was sure he heard her mutter 'Head Boy and he's acting like a hooligan...'

McGonagall, however, looked unfazed. 'I sympathize with you all,' she said. 'But we have no legal basis for taking action against Theodore Nott, or his friends, at this time. And perhaps you should consider, Mr. Weasley, that it is far better to have them here, where we can keep an eye on them, than to remove them from school and send them out into the world.'

Ron swallowed and grimaced. 'I hadn't thought about that.'

'No,' said McGonagall shortly, but Ron could swear the corners of her mouth were twitching as if she were trying not to smile. 'Now, if you don't mind,' she added, 'I need to speak with your mother alone for a moment, so do say your goodbyes and go back to Gryffindor Tower.'

Ron hugged his mother, and Ginny followed.

'Behave yourselves,' said Mrs. Weasley, as Ron and Ginny left McGonagall's office.

They went back to the common room to find it empty, save for Harry and Hermione. Hermione stood up at once.

'Hermione, before you say anything, my mum's been trying to pay Winky but she goes spare every time Mum brings it up--'

'Forget about that,' said Hermione at once, and she turned and looked at Harry. Ron followed suit.

'What?' said Ron at once, alarmed by the look on Harry's face.

'Voldemort knows,' said Harry. 'He knows there's a Seer working against him.'