Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ron stares.

It was like the calm before the storm.

"Draco Malfoy.... really?"

When Harry first confessed to Ron about who it was he he had feelings for, he felt as if the world had tilted on its axis. It was impossible--well, at least he thought so. Was it everyday that your best mate confessed that he fancied the very person who has hated you for simply being born?

Harry was his best mate, and has been since they were eleven years old. Harry was his brother in everything but blood, they spent Yule together starting from first year, and trusted each other with everything--and he means, everything. And being the chosen one, a ton of girls fancied Harry even though they barely knew him.

Harry had otherwordly looks--his copper skin shone like gold under the sun, his hair a long and untamed black, while his green eyes looked like jewels.

In all honesty, Ron felt a tinge of jealousy when it came to his best friend. He was handsome, likable, talented, and was overall the dream bloke of every witch or wizard. He was also the youngest seeker in a century— a century! He also caught the golden snitch on his first ever game.

Even Ginny, his little sister used to be absolutely besotted with Harry. It annoyed him having to come home for the holidays to Ginny talking about Harry, making poems for him, and just… being a stupid kid in love. It changed though, the summer before third year. Ginny moved on from Harry, being embarrassed when anyone brings up that era of hers, where she obsessed over Harry.

Harry was an amazing friend, and an even better person. Ron just hadn’t expected Harry’s crush of all people to be Draco fucking Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy— the same stuck-up, pompous, spoiled, blood purist prat who’s hated them since first year. Since Harry wasn’t raised in the magical world, he did not understand the significance of rejecting Malfoy’s handshake, and Ron doesn’t blame him for rejecting it.

Ron may be a teeny bit dense, but over the course of three weeks, he had realized Harry spacing out often, always writing in his notebook, and being distracted during quidditch practice. Ron thought the stress of being a Triwizard champion was taking a toll on him.

Ron hated how he acted like such a terrible friend when Harry’s name flew out of the goblet. He was an absolute jerk, and Hermione— bless her soul, was trying to get Ron to apologize and keep them together. He did end up apologizing to Harry, realizing his wrongs.

His insecurity got the best of him, Ron had to watch as his mother and father praised his siblings for being so talented and unique— never quite having received the same amount of recognition hurt him.

Bill was a prefect and head boy, and started work at Gringotts soon after graduating. Charlie was head boy, and now works in Romania. Percy’s the Gryffindor prefect, and planning to start work at the ministry after graduating. The twins weren’t any of those, but their intelligence laid elsewhere. Ginny was the babygirl his mother had desired for so long, and what was Ron? He wasn’t smart, he wasn’t talented, he was nothing.

Ron disliked it when he hurted his friends over his own flaws. Harry insists that it was okay, Hermione comforts him, but Ron can’t ever feel like he was enough.

His status as a pureblood wasn’t enough, as almost everyone looked past that and focused of his family’s lack of wealth. Malfoy had constantly belittled him over that, which fed into his insecurities. Finding out Harry fancied Malfoy was tough.

A few seconds after acting calm, Ron shddenly felt his chest flare angrily. “Malfoy? MALFOY?!” Ron yelled, only for Hermione to shush him as to not wake up every sleeping Gryffindor. “Get off, Hermione!” He hissed, making the bushy haired girl roll her eyes and sneer.

”If everyone wakes up, i’m blaming you.” Damn goody two-shoes. “I’m not even supposed to be in the boys dorm at this time— or at all!” She glared at Ron, who glared back.

Harry scratched the back of his head nervously, steering his gaze away from Rob’s unimpressed expression. “I didn’t expect it either. Sorry for calling you guys here at midnight, but you guys really wanted to know what was bothering me.”

Hermione sighed. “Harry, you know i’ll always support you. But Ronald is right, Malfoy?” Her eye twitched, must be recalling that one time Malfoy called her a mudblood.

Oh geez, imagine if the Daily Prophet gets wind of this.

“I know!” Harry exclaimed, head in his hands, clearly frustrated. “It just came so suddenly, trust me ‘Mione— he was not my first option either.”

Ron rubbed his temples, trying to not explode at his best mate, who clearly had terrible taste in boys. “And here I thought the Triwizard crap was catching up to you.”

”The other champions are helping me, so not as much. But the thing is, I think Malfoy’s caught on to the fact that i fancy him!” Harry utters, holding both Ron and Hermione’s hands.

“He winked at me today.”

”He must have been teasing you.” Ron argued.

”He told me i smelled sweet.”

”It could be a joke?” Ron suggested weakly.

”I overheard Parkinson tell Greengrass that he wants to snog me! Snog, Ron!”

”Not teasing then, or a joke.” Hermione grumbled as she crossed her arms. “Okay, you like Malfoy, he likes you—“

”Probably likes you.” Ron interrupted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Just accept that they’re in love, Ronald.” She groaned.

”Malfoy called you a mudblood in second year, or did you forget?” Ron snarked. “He’s also made fun of my family, his family is blood purist— and so is he. So, no, i can’t accept it, Hermione.”

”I still despise him for the mudblood thing, and probably will for the rest of my life, but Harry’s our friend, Ron. As much as I hate it, i’m helping him. Of course all the bullying he’s done won’t be excused so quickly, but if he makes Harry happy…” She trailed off, eyes slowly darting towards Harry’s green ones.

Harry pursed his lips uncomfortably. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “But it’s driving me crazy. I didn’t mean to drag you guys into my mess, but you guys are my best mates, I can’t keep a secret from you two at all.”

”And we’re glad you decided to tell us.” Hermione smiled softly, “Right, Ronald?” She turned to glare at the red-head, who hesitated.

”Whatever.” Ron grumbled bitterly, feelings complicated emotions swirl in his chest. “But if Ifind out Malfoy’s playing you, i’m going to steal one of Hagrid’s pets and send it after his pompous arse.”

Harry chuckled, hugging Ron tightly. “And I give you my full support in doing so.”

“He’s ignoring me.”

Harry’s words quickly shut both of their mouths.

”Mate, what do you mean by that?” Ron asked cautiously, though anyone could tell there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

They were in the corner of the hallway after potions, Hermione couldn’t stay long, as she still had ancient runes. Hermione and her damn schedule, Ron can’t seem to figure out how she’d manage without the time turner. He remembers feeling utterly betrayed when she and Harry used it last year.

”I mean, he’d send me these dumb little notes before charms, he’d wink at me, and even sit next to me in potions!”

”So, what’s the issue?” Ron asked, really not understanding the point. He was happy for his mate, Harry seemed so over the moon after class,  telling he and Hermione about the things Malfoy would do.

To be frank, Ron still disliked Malfoy with every fiber of his being. But Harry hasn’t been this happy since Sirius. But Sirius, despite being innocent, was still not a free man— which meant he had to stay in hiding. Ron sighed and look at Harry.

“What did he do?”

”I guess he saw me talking to Cedric.”

”Diggory? What could that possibly contribute to thi— oh.” Ron stopped abruptly when he finally realized, a frown on his face as he stared at Harry.

”Don’t tell me he thought you were flirting with him.” Ron deadpanned.

The sarcastic grin on Harry’s lips said everything else.

“C’mon! Diggory is like seventeen, and you’re fourteen!” Ron said with horror in his face. “And i’m quite sure Diggory likes that one fifth year from Ravenclaw— what was her name?”

“Cho Chang.”

”Right. Chang.” Ron groaned. “Malfoy can’t possibly be THIS stupid, can he?”

“After he acted like Buckbeak killed him in third year? He is THAT stupid, Ron.” Harry retorted. “Which is absolute bollocks! I just told Cedric about what the first task could be.” He huffed. “Curse me for caring.”

Ron patted his mate’s back. “Hey, since Malfoy’s being an outrageous asshole right now, can i send one of Hagrid’s spiders after him?” He asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

Harry stared at Ron, unamused. “Okay, first of all— you’re deathly afraid of spiders, how are you going to get it? And second, if the teachers find out, you’re getting detention— and I'm quite sure Malfoy’s going to tattle to his father.” He listed. “Did i miss anything?”

Ron pouted. “No. But i can get Ginny to do it—“

”No spiders, Ron.”

”Awe.”

”I’ve got a better idea, though.” Harry grinned.

It was never good if Harry Potter had an idea.

Ron and Harry were walking to the great hall, the red-head barely suppressing his laughter.

”I think this is the funniest idea you’ve come up with yet, mate. The twins would be proud.” Ron whispered. “This will surely get Malfoy’s panties in a twist.”

Harry chuckled, playfully bumping his shoulder against Ron’s. “I owe you big time.” He grinned mischievously. “Show time?” Harry asked, as they approached the door to the great hall.

”Ready when you are, sweetheart.” Ron had to remind Harry to stay in character when the Gryffindor hunched over in laughter.

”Let’s go, honey.” Harry uttered back, and Ron grinned, his long ginger locks shaking as he giggled.

They hooked their arms together and pushed the door open, looking into each other’s eyes with ‘affection’ or whatever this was.

They both walked to their respective tables and sat down. Neville was the first to notice them, he beamed and waved, his mouth full with food. “Hiya, Harry! Ron!” He greeted, albeit a little muffled.

”Mornin’, Neville.” Harry chortled. “Thanks for saving us a spot.”

Neville smiled when Harry thanked him.

Ron and Harry got to filling their plates, waiting for the perfect moment to officially start their plan. The plan was quite childish, Ron agreed to flirt with Harry for as long as it takes, until Malfoy cracks and finally gets the stick out of his arse.

The door to the great hall opens to Malfoy, and his group of Slytherins. As soon as they entered, Ron’s gaze flickered to Harry, their eyes met. It was time to commence the plan.

When Malfoy and his group were about to past them, Ron spoke.

”Harry, want some bread?” Ron raised his voice a little, loud enough for Malfoy to hear them.

”No, i’m good.” Harry replied.

”No?” Ron raised his brow. “How about a date?” 

It was at that moment that Malfoy froze in his tracks, Ron didn’t need to look behind him to confirm it. Malfoy’s loud ass footsteps jolted to a halt, hah, sucks to suck.

Ron spent all night on this.

”Maybe in the future, darling.” Harry purred, bright green eyes glued on Ron’s sky blue ones. “Let’s finish breakfast first, ‘yeah?”

Ron was close enough to hear Malfoy grit his teeth and rush over to the Slytherin table. When he did, the two boys broke out in silent laughter.

”Merlin— did you see his reaction?” Ron wheezed. “The ‘darling’ was the cherry on top, though.” Harry had his palms over his lips, his entire body trembling with laughter.

Seamus looked between them two. “What the fuck?” He stared at them. “Are you two…” It baffled Ron on how scandalized Seamus looked. 

”Nope.” They both automatically answered. “We’re doing it to mess with a certain snake.” Ron grinned.

“Right. I really thought you two were snogging for a second.” Seamus said. “Can’t wait to see how this turns out. Good luck with the snake.” Seems like Seamus figured it out already.

”Am i the only one who’s confused?” Neville deadpanned. Harry leaned into his ear and explained.

”What the fuck just happened, Pansy?” Draco forced out through gritted teeth. “Potter and the Weasel! Can you believe this?” He turned to look at the unamused girl.

”Yeah.” Draco looked betrayed. “Potter and Weasley have been close since first year, haven’t they? It won’t take a lot of convincing that they’re actually an item.” Pansy retorted, shoving a piece of garlic bread in her mouth.

Draco grunted. “Okay— but, me and Potter had something! This past week, we’ve been— flirting, or whatever!” He frowned, his cheeks turning red, crossing his arms and glaring at his food as if it wronged him.

”Didn’t you ignore him all day yesterday ‘cause he talked to Diggory?” Blaise interrupted. “Sort of your fault, Draco.”

”Shut it, Blaise.” The Slytherin snarled. “But, the Weasel?l Draco internally screamed. This could not be possible. If only Potter didn’t get too close with Diggory, then he wouldn’t have ignored him!

”We know, dear.” Pansy patted his hair. “But some of us want to eat breakfast in peace, right?” She called out to the rest of the table, a chorus of agreements sounded out.

”Whatever.” Draco groaned. He took small bites of his food, his appetite long been gone after hearing those words leave Ronald Weasley’s mouth.

It hasn’t even been three days, and Potter’s already replaced him with the Weasel? What did Potter see in him? Draco was much, much richer than him, he had a high family status, and just a thousand times better.

“Your thoughts are written on your face, you know?” Blaise said quietly. Draco turned to look at him. “You’re thinking that you’re better than Weasley, right?” Damn Blaise and his entire being.

Draco didn’t answer.

Potter and Weasley were walking to Charms next, Granger was with them, this time. Draco was still upset by the whole ordeal, and Pansy gave no shits.

“Harry, you play seeker, right?” Ron asked, staring at the tanned boy. “Because you look like a keeper.” Ron added with a wink.

Potter simply raised his brow and chortled, hanging his arm around Weasley’s shoulder. Blaise’s heart skipped a beat, were they really dating?

He never wanted anyone to know that he was interested in Ron Weasley of all people. Being in Slytherin, a house dominated mostly by Pure-Bloods. Weasley may be a pure-blood, but as the others say— they did not live like ones.

So, why? Why does his heart continue to ache for Ron Weasley?

They have never spoken to each other properly, Weasley hated Draco, he was Draco’s friend, therefore making himself Weasley’s enemy. Blaise did love Draco truly, but he was too much sometimes.

”Blaise?” Pansy called out from beside him, when did she get there? She was holding her potions book close to her chest. If anyone knew about how he truly felt, it was her.

”Pansy.” Blaise greeted. “Need anything?”

Pansy pursed her lips. “Are you okay?” Before Blaise could ask for elaboration, Potter’s laugh filled the hallway.

”A little heartbroken.” He joked. “Kidding, i’m fine, Pansy.” 

Pansy simply stared at him, and nodded after a few seconds. They both silently walked to potions.

Blaise sat next to Pansy. Potter and Weasley sat in front of him, they were giggling about something. Blaise could care less about Potter, but he was enamored with Weasley’s grin, fuck him and his dimples.

”Hey Harry.” Weasley called out, tilting his head to the side— fuck, that’s adorable.

Potter looked at him. “Yes, Ron?” He said in a honey sweet tone. Blaise tried to stop his eye from twitching.

After Weasley went into a deep silence, Potter’s brows furrowed.

”Sorry.” Weasley lightly chuckled. “You’re so cute, that i forgot my line.”

Blaise had to mentally and physically restrain himself from bursting into flames. Oh, merlin— this is absolute torture. This is all Draco’s fault. Everyone in Slytherin knows that Slytherin is easily jealous, but the people outside of their house don’t.

”Do we switch with Finnigan and Thomas?”

Before they could, Professor Snape entered the classroom at that moment. All chatter died down immediately, and Professor Snape’s cold aura filled the room.

”Turn your books to page eighteen.”

Nothing interesting happened after that, Professor Snape’s presence made them too fearful of attempting anything.

“It’s totally working.” Harry said proudly, “Hermione said Malfoy’s eye was twitching every second during defense.”

Ron huffed. “It better be working, i’m constantly fighting for my life trying not to burst into laughter!” He exclaimed.

”You two are ridiculous.” Hermione stated, trying to tame her wild curls, cursing when her hairbrush broke when she tried combing through it. She muttered a quick spell to mend it.

Ron rolled his eyes and walked towards Hermione. “Comb.” Hermione lazily gave it to him. If there was anyone that had the ability to make her hair look the least bit presentable, it was Ron.

”I still don’t know how you manage to tame me and Hermione’s hair.” Harry uttered, sharing a similar hair type to Hermione. Ginny suggested cutting it off, but Harry quite liked his long hair.

”Ginny used to make me brush her hair, dad bought her a muggle toy when she was younger— i think it was called ‘slime’? She often got it stuck in her hair, and she’d cry if we had to cut it.” Ron chuckled. “Sounds i had to comb through it, it was ridiculous.”

Hermione snorted. “Sounds like a Ginny thing, definitely.” Humming as Ron tied her hair up into a high ponytail. “Thanks, Ron.” She beamed.

”Speaking of Ginny…” Harry trailed off. “I saw how you look at her, ‘Mione.” He grinned when Hermione’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

”Screw off.” She grumbled. “She doesn’t know yet.”

Ron hummed. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but Ginny totally likes you. I’ve heard the twins tease her about it.”

”And… The Yule ball is coming up.” Harry wiggled his brows towards Hermione. “I think Ginny would appreciate it if you asked her.”

Hermione kept quiet, trying to hide her hot cheeks. “Thanks for the suggestions, now let’s talk about you and Malfoy!”

Harry groaned.

Chapter Text

It’s been a little over a week since Ron started helping Harry crack Malfoy's sanity and make him regret making his best mate feel like crap.

To say it’s been strange is a complete understatement. Firstly, Rita Skeeter somehow got hold about he and Harry’s supposed ‘relationship.’ Ginny was quite confused when she heard about it--came bursting into their dorms until Ron explained everything to her. She was very delighted, and said Harry and Malfoy were probably the last ones to realize their feelings for each other, which was true.

Second, Malfoy’s been awfully quiet. Still a huge prat, a bit of insults here and there, but he seemed totally off his game during practice. Another thing Ron noticed was Zabini staring at him, then turning away when Ron looks back.

Blaise Zabini. He was most known for his mother, the famed ‘black widow.’ Lady Zabini had just attended her seventh husband’s funeral a few months ago. They had generational wealth because of her various husbands, and honestly? Ron respected that.

However, Blaise Zabini doesn’t care even when people speak badly of his mother, he always snarks at them. There are jokes and rumors that he might follow in her footsteps and get seven wives, but there isn’t really any concrete proof. Zabini used to have speculations with Parkinson, rumors of their (arranged) marriage. Parkinson did deny those rumors, albesit furiously and got a detention with Mcgonagall for a noise disturbance, but others still suspect them.

Blaise Zabini was tall, around five foot ten  despite only being fourteen, he might end up more than six-feet tall once puberty hits. He had very short curly hair, accompanied by a deep almond complexion, and his full lips would quirk into a frown every time Ron passed him in the halls.

Ron isn't quite sure why he knows that.

Does he smell bad? Was it something he did? Or was it just the normal Slytherin-Gryffindor hatred and rivalry motivating him?

His point was, Blaise Zabini does not seem to like him at all. What else could he expect from a Slytherin? Moreover, Malfoy’s friend. Ron tried not to be too prejudiced towards the Slytherins after Harry told him he was supposed to be sorted into Slytherin, but was sorted into Gryffindor upon his refusal.

But what else should Ron think when Zabini just keeps glaring at him? Was he going to avenge Malfoy’s pride, or something?

”Hey, Harry.” Ron smiled cheekily. Walking alongside Harry as they approached the charms classroom. “You must have a secret charm, because i can’t take my eyes off of you.” He said, loud enough for a certain blonde to hear. Chuckling internally when said blonde’s fist clenched together.

“Very funny, Ronnikins.” Fred(?) chuckled, they were both, as Ron guessed, very delighted with Harry’s plan. George even suggested doing the same with Harry, but ultimately decided to be on the sidelines… supporting them? Or whatever it was the twins said.

Harry rolled his eyes with a fond smirk on his lips. The first task for the Triwizard tournament had just ended two days ago, and then again—more talks about the Yule ball. Ron doesn’t really have anyone to go with.

”Don’t you two have Herbology in two minutes?” Harry reminded.

”Eugh.” George says. “I hate Herbology, can’t we just skip, Gred?” He added, elbowing Fred in the arm with a smile. Making the other twin grin as well. Troublemakers.

Fred wrapped an arm around George’s shoulder. “I feel the same way, Forge. Our smarts lie elsewhere, not in Herbology.”

”Well, you’re right.” Ron mumbled. “‘Mione said you guys are making new products, and she thinks its genius— her words of hexing you two if you prank her still remain.”

The twins frowned playfully. “Granger is no fun.” They exclaimed at the same time.

”Ginny might send her bat-bogey hex against you if you do try Hermione.” Harry unhelpfully added, making the twins shiver.

”We’re glad Ginny is more like us than our brothers, but she does know some nasty spells!” Fred huffed. “She’s also on the ‘no prank’ list. I can’t believe we even had to make it.”

Ron rolled his eyes. Ginny really does scare the shit out of everyone. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window.

Blimey, he needed a date to the ball.

It was in two and a half weeks or so.

He planned to ask Hermione if he still had no one by the time the ball starts, but she’s going with Ginny— and Ron was happy for them, truly! Ginny’s crush on Harry stopped so suddenly, if Ron knew quicker that it was because his little sister fancied his OTHER best friend, then he probably would have freaked out.

Merlin, he really was a different person than last year. He was still in a dilemma, though.

Harry was asking Malfoy out— if they make-up before the ball, that is. Besides, even if they don’t make up— Harry still had a long line of witches waiting for him. How lucky. Ron can’t help but think bitterly.

Ron really didn’t want to attend. Screw the headmasters for making attendance mandatory. They’re being taught in etiquette and how to act in formal situations, failure to meet these requirements will be unable to attend the ball. Ron has thought about just acting like some wild animal to prevent himself from going.

This was… stressing him out!

”You good, mate?” Harry tapped his shoulder, hugging two books close to his chest. Right. The twins left a few minutes ago, and classes were done for the day, Ron agreed to accompany Harry to the library.

Harry must have noticed his eyes drooping, he frowned. “Just go back to the dorms, you clearly need some sleep, Ron.” He worried, checking his temperature just in case.

Ron removed Harry’s hand on his forehead. “I’m fine, i need to complete my Charms essay anyways. Better to get it done quicker.” Geez, he sounded like a Ravenclaw, was Hermione rubbing off on him?

”If you say so.” Harry sighed. “Call me if you need anything.” With that, Harry hopped away to find more books. Someone who didn’t know Harry would think he was such a model student. Harry decided to take Arithmancy before fifth year.

Ron lazily pushed his book open, the pages were thick and slightly yellowed. He wasn’t really any good in other subjects other than Defense Against The Dark Arts. Really, Hermione was the only reason he was passing, being best friends with a bookworm did have its advantages, sometimes.

It was currently four-thirty in the evening, the sun was starting to set. He was only three sentences in his essay, he’s going to be here until six!

As the minutes passed, Ron groggily wrote his essay, fighting to stay awake was the hardest challenge of all. Why did this damn essay have to be due tomorrow?

”Damn it.” Ron grumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Okay, almost done, just a few more lines…

Blaise wasn’t sure how he was holding on so far. Weasley always made sure to flirt with Potter when Draco would pass them in the halls— in the great hall, and in class. It was getting ridiculous how he would clench his fists when he heard it.

Draco wasn’t fairing well either. As Pansy said, he was getting ready to give up and beg Potter on his knees. Blaise hopes Draco does indeed it, since it meant Potter and Weasley won’t be all… too close.

”Hey Harry.” Weasley said. “Is your birthday on October ten? ‘Cause you’re a ten out of ten.” What followed was Potter’s laughter, Blaise glanced at Draco, his lower lip trembled as he struggled to keep a straight face.

While they were suffering, Pansy was out flirting with Daphne. This is one reason they fought so hard to break their arranged marriage, Blaise didn’t think of Pansy like that, and he was gay. Pansy had a crush on Draco during first year, but it was just simple infatuation. She realized she was for both teams two years ago at the end of second year, and she was snogging Daohne Greengrass now.

The Greengrass family were one of the ancient pure blood families, but Pansy’s parents— for some reason, disliked them. Just imagine if they found out their daughters were in a relationship.

Anyways. Blaise decided to come to the library for some quiet time. Runes went by with a blur, he only snapped out of it due to Granger being a know-it-all during recitation.

He really needed it after what he went through this week. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ron Weasley’s long, ginger locks and pale skin. His mother would surely make fun of him about this. She’s already looking for her eight husband, although the last one died only four months ago.

He’s already finished his schoolwork for tomorrow. Pansy calls him a nerd, he does not care. It was much better to finalize everything, no stress. Blaise ran his finger through his hair, slightly tugging on his short hair. Ron Weasley really had his wrapped around his finger— without realizing it.

He snuck a glance at Madam Pince, who was scolding two students from Hufflepuff house for bringing chocolate in. What did they expect? Madam Pince protected these books like her life depended on it.

Blaise strolled through the books about mythical animals, he’s never told anyone, but these topics truly interested him. 

“Harry, got a bandaid? I scraped myself falling for you.”

Madam Pince reprimanded him from across the library for slamming his book down. Fuck. Why did he suddenly remember that? Was it because he wished he was the recipient of those cheesy words? Damn it, he was too far gone, he pulled and tugged on his hair while biting his lower lip until it drew blood.

He clutched the thick book in his hand and looked for a table. He wanted to read in a corner, but the library corners were quite infamous as a snogging spot. Blaise wanted to avoid that, how did these people have the audacity to do it in the library?

”Oh?” Blaise’s brow lifted when he came across Weasley’s table— sleeping over his charms essay and shielded by a stack of books. “Weasley?” He whispered, he really was asleep.

Well, other table were vacant but Blaise wanted to sit somewhere with no people. He took the seat in front of Weasley and started to read.

Screw him for sneaking glances at the red-headed boy. He didn’t snore, which was something Blaise didn’t expect— Weasley looks like the type of person to snore.

Weasley looked oddly peaceful. There were slight smudges of black ink on his hands and cheeks, his robes would definitely end up creased once he woke up. Blaise  could not peer his eyes away from Weasley no matter what.

Fuck, he was adorable.

Blaise hesitantly reached his hand out, and touched Weasley’s hair. It was soft, and smooth. One day, or maybe just in his dreams, Blaise wishes to comb his long finger through Weasley’s long hair.

When Weasley did not react to him touching his hair, Blaise became bolder. He sucked in a deep breath and stroked the sleeping boy’s hair. He was selfish, so greedy. He wanted Weasley all to himself.

Damn it, you’re driving me insane. Blaise’s cheeks flushed pink. He used the book to conceal his ridiculous expression, it was quite curious on how Weasley made him show his true self so easily. He continued to stare at Weasley’s shut eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He was so beautiful, so breathtaking.

Merlin, let him be selfish— just this once.

Ron woke up at seven-pm to Hermione shaking him awake with an unamused expression. He fell asleep in the library, but at least he got his essay done before it.

”You idiot, dinner started twenty minutes ago, Harry said you were here.” Hermione scolded, pinching his cheeks haughtily.

The Gryffindor grumbled. “Sorry, i didn’t realize the time, and when i fell asleep. I stayed up all night, don’t you feel bad?” Ron glared.

”No.” Hermione crossed his arms. “Did you really have to spend hours trying to solve the rubiks cube last night?” She uttered, very unimpressed.

”Dad gave it to me!” Ron defended. “And it is really cool, i can’t believe muggles have all sorts of toys like that.”

His father acquired a muggle toy for Ron two days ago, according to Hermione it was called a ‘rubiks cube’. Ron waited until Harry was asleep to start trying to solve it, since Harry would definitely scold him for staying up so late. What a hypocrite, Harry only gets mad when he stays up late!

”I’ll get you more for Christmas— uh, Yule. Since i don’t really know what else to give you guys.” Hermione mumbled. “Now c’mon, you might miss dinner. You can’t function on an empty stomach.”

”Yeah, Yeah.” Ron smiled fondly. Hermione was an amazing person, Ginny better take care of her.

“Were you starved as a child?” Seamus snarked as Ron shoved a chicken drumstick in his mouth. “You eat like you’re a criminal before the day of their execution.”

Ron glared at the boy. “No, i’m just hungry, Seamus.” He rolled his eyes. Yes, his family may be the poorest pure-bloods there are, but his mother never allowed anyone to starve in her household.

 “Leave him be.” Harry shrugged. “He always eats like a dying man, ever since first year.” Seamus chuckled.

Although Seamus was recently caught snogging Dean Thomas in the hallway to charms. Yeah, the same Dean Thomas that Ginny dated for like a month. Ginny wasn’t mad at all, though. She was rather glad, instead, that Dean finally found himself.

Ron could not stop thinking about what he felt when he woke up. Like someones’s rough fingertips tracing his face like it was made of porcelain, so rough yet so delicate. Their touch lingered until now, Ron wanted to melt at the sensation. 

He must be imagining things, there was no trace of anyone being there.

Dinner went by in a blur, Ron was still quite drowsy. He wanted nothing more than to get back to the dorms and collapse on his bed.

It was the next day. And like yesterday, breakfast at the great hall was boring. Ron did make sure to keep up the act with Harry. His only entertainment these days were Malfoy, the way his expression would twist when they acted, his hazy eyes, and clenched fists. To Ron, it was a sort of revenge for Malfoy’s actions back then.

They were walking to potions, Ron got a decent grade in his charms essay, and his memory of how Transfiguration went was clouded. His focus seemed to be running rampant these days.

”Why do we even need potions.” Harry grumbled, knowing damn well it was in requirements to be an auror. Ron wanted to be one, and Harry said he wanted to as well, but he seemed to be leaning more on professional quidditch these days.

And it wasn’t like they could drop potions since it was a core subject. Ron was barely passing Professor Snape’s class, and to top it all off, Snape was a grumpy old man.

“Right?” Ron nodded. “What we should be learning in potions is the chemistry between you and i.” He said smoothly, winking at Harry as the cherry on top.

Harry playfully slapped his back as they walked to class in giggles. It was honestly like Ron had a radar for when Malfoy was approaching, it was salt in the wood to hear it happen right in front you.

According to Harry, he and Malfoy never had an official relationship. Just some flirting here and there, plus Harry still thought Malfoy held a bit of hate towards him no matter what. Malfoy… really needed to get his game up.

Hermione and Seamus called it a situationship, while chuckling. Ron really did not understand. Harry still seemed quite upset that Malfoy hasn’t talked to him about it at all yet. Damn Slytherins and their lack of communication.

He and Harry took their seat in the third row, Hermione was sitting with Neville. Probably agreed to help him in today’s activity. Speaking of Hermione, she and Ginny have gotten disgustingly chummy with each other. Hermione was planning to ask Ginny out this week, and Ginny was too. It’s going to be quite a funny situation.

Ron snuck a glance at Harry, and he seemed somber. “Are you alright?” He said quietly. Harry must be stressing about the Yule ball. He was required to have a partner, and he was running out of excuses turning down almost the entire school.

”’M fine.” Harry smiled. But when Harry responds like that, Ron most definitely knows that he was the opposite of ‘alright.’

At that moment, Professor Snape bursted into class in his usual manner. They all fell into silence, especially he and Harry. Professor Snape hated them. And they finally knew why. Harry asked Sirius and Remus about it, the two were hesitant but told them everything. Let’s just say it changed Harry’s entire perspective about his father.

“Today, we will be brewing Amortentia. The most powerful love potion in existence, do not take advantage of it, or the consequences with be… disastrous.”

For a moment, Ron wanted to protest— Amortentia was a NEWT level potion, but this was professor Snape. He was probably just pushing them more like usual. No one dared to question professor Snape, not even Hermione.

”Get into groups of four.” Ron and Harry immediately partnered up and ran to Hermione and Neville— only to find out they already partnered with Seamus and Dean.

Hermione gave them an apologetic look, and mouthed, “Sorry.”

“Dang it.” Hermione, you traitor. “Who else is available—“ Ron felt his heart drop when he laid eyes on the only other two without a group yet. He and Harry shared a look.

”What are you two fools waiting for?” Snape snarled. “Hurry up.”

Ron felt like cursing out Hermione suddenly.

He and Harry hesitantly walked to Malfoy and Zabini, who looked equally distraught with the situation at hand. There were no polite greeting or anything, just glares and silence as they joined their table together.

Professor Snape was busy writing the formula for Amortentia down on the blackboard. And Malfoy took it as a chance to click his tongue and stare at Harry— not in a good way.

”Potter.”

”Malfoy.”

The air was thick, way too thick for Ron’s liking. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and left Harry and Malfoy to their bickering.

”Morning, Zabini.” Ron greeted quietly, ruffling his hair and yawning.

Zabini sighed. “Weasley.” He said, and that was it, he looked away from Ron immediately, which made Ron raise a brow.  Though he didn’t question it.

Ron kept touching his cheek, oh, he missed those rough but careful fingers on his cheek. He may not know who it was, or if it even was real, but he missed it. He also recalls the feelings of hands playing with his hair.

”What are you doing?” Zabini suddenly asked, “You keep touching your hair and your face.” He held an enigmatic aura, which made Ron feel a little confined. This was one of the few words they have ever exchanged outside of the quidditch field.

”Nothing.” Ron didn’t want to elaborate any further, but for some reason he wanted to— odd. “I think someone played with my hair when i was sleeping, they had nice hands.” He suddenly felt embarrassed by what he said.

Oddly, Zabini nodded slowly and looked away, they had to cut off Harry and Draco from almost having a brawl and actually do the potion.

But Ron had one question, why was Zabini’s face so red?

It didn’t matter. And he also wasn’t good at potions, so he helped Harry get the ingredients they needed from the storage. Slytherins were always weirdly skilled in potions, was it because Snape was their head of house?

“Cut, not crush.” Malfoy scowled at Harry, who huffed. Harry did carefully cut them this time.

Ron flinched when the group behind them had their potion explode. It was suddenly a good thing they partnered up with Malfoy and Zabini after all.

”It’s done.” Zabini told them, stirring the pot and pouring a hefty amount in a bottle.

”Hermione said they smell like who you’re attracted to, is that true?” Harry piped up.

”It d—“

”Not you, Malfoy.”

Ron almost burst into laughter. Malfoy’s face was indignant, he looked utterly embarrassed and scoffed.

Zabini then realized that Harry meant him. He kept a straight face and nodded. “Yeah, you can smell what you’re attracted to. Professor Snape said we needed to smell it, to test it.” Harry nodded in understanding.

Ron already knows Harry’s going to smell Malfoy’s expensive cologne. But what was he going to smell? Air? Ron isn't attracted to anyone as far as he knows.

”What do you smell?” Harry decided to smell the potion first. After he did, his cheeks were a dusty pink.

”Sandalwood, broomstick gear, and… apples?” Harry said hesitantly. “Does anyone smell like apples?” He asked knowingly. Malfoy’s face turned an impossibly bright shade of pink. His dignity surely was ruined after this. “What about you, Ron?” Harry handed him the potion.

After a few seconds, Ron was quite amused he actually smelled anything. “Let’s see… Bergamot, expensive cologne— i don’t know either, just expensive cologne. And uhm, books.” He did not know he was attracted to such smells either.

Zabini stayed awfully quiet, which prompted Malfoy to go next. “Fresh air, broomstick polish, and… treacle tarts?” Ron grinned when Malfoy finished, elbowing Harry in a not-so-subtle manner.

”Blaise, you go.” Malfoy grumbled, still refusing to make eye contact with Harry. Zabini nodded as he wrapped his long fingers around the bottle.

”Freshly mown grass, new parchment, and spearmint toothpaste.” He said without a slight change in his expression. Well those are very random scents.

Ron wasn’t sure who he smelled, but he was in love with someone, without knowing it himself. Did he really fall in love unknowingly? With who?

What followed next was more bickering from Harry and Malfoy, Ron was too nervous to talk to Zabini. Class went by way too slow for his nerves.

“Uhm, i smelled fresh flowers, vanilla, and adventure.” Hermione recounted.

”How the hell did you smell adventure?” Harry quirked up a brow, was ‘adventure’ really a smell? Or was it just Hermione being insane?

Hermione shrugged. “I just did.”

“Ginny loves looking after mum’s plants, her perfume is vanilla scented, and she’s a little adventurous?” Ron said unsurely. But one thing was for sure, Hermione really did like Ginny to smell her in the potion.

”When are you asking her out?” And after that, they went into a spiral of what Hermione could do to ask Ginny out.

Chapter Text

Ron twisted his pen around his fingers in a daze. He couldn’t stop thinking about potions class two days ago, who did he smell in his potion? Because as far as he was aware, he wasn’t interested in anyone.

”Still thinking about the amortentia potion?” Hermione tapped his shoulder, she looked very charming and neat today, because it was the day she asked Ginny out to Yule.

Ron nodded with a sigh. “You know it. I can’t believe i smelled anyone at all.” The red-head grumbled. “Hermione, if i knew i liked anyone, i think i would be aware.”

”You know,” Hermione took a deep breath. “There’s an old theory in the potion.” Ron raised a brow, his interest piqued.

”What theory?” He asked. Hermione was far better than him in potions, or any class at all.

Hermione scratched the back of her head nervously. “That you can also smell your ‘fated one.’ I know it sounds like absolute bollocks, but you insist you aren’t interested in anyone, what else am i supposed to think?” She said quickly, as if in a rush. “I’m guessing by the scents you smelled, that your ‘fated one’ is a rich pureblood.”

Now, Ron was even more confused. ‘Fated one’? It sounded ridiculous. But if it was true, then he should congratulate Hermione and Harry.

”Ridiculous.” Was all Ron said, he stared at Hermione with a blank expression. “Yeah, whatever. Not many people like me, you know? Even if i did smell my… ‘fated one’ who’s to say they’d smell me too?”

”Ronald.” Hermione was agitated. “You are an amazing person, just because you feel inferior to your siblings, it doesn’t mean you’re useless. Many girls like you, you just don’t know that. There’s Lavender, my roommate, A Hufflepuff a year above us, and i used to have a crush on you, too.”

The last of Hermione’s words made Ron snap his head at her, Hermione was already embarrassed, her cheeks flushing red in shame.

”You liked me?” Ron deadpanned, which made a low chuckle escape from Hermione’s throat.

She nodded. “Second year, and i realized it was just an innocent crush, so i got out of it rather quickly. I am not elaborating any further.” Hermione giggled. “Don’t take this wrongly, i do love Ginny, she made me realize i liked girls too.”

Ron was unsure on how to respond to that. Damn, his best friend liked him before? How didn’t he catch on?

“Well, i am rather flattered.” Ron said. “But if i am being completely honest… i used to like Harry.”

This made Hermione’s eyes bulge out of its sockets as she stared at Ron with her jaw hanging open. “Holy shit. No fucking way.”

”Yes fucking way, unfortunately.” Ron shook his head with a frown. “It lasted a month, though— don’t think i still like Harry, he’s like my brother, just as i think of you as a sister.” Ron chortled. Okay, but it was Harry fucking Potter— everyone was attracted to him. 

”If i’m your sister, then that would make my feelings for Ginny incest.”

”The ancient twenty-eight are known for that, anyways—“

”Ronald!” Hermione scolded with a horrified expression on her face. “You condone incest?!”

Ron’s face twisted unpleasantly. “Of course not. But it is the truth, almost all the wizarding families are related, due to their blood purity shit.” He shrugged, placing the muggle pen Hermione got him down the table.

”I’m muggle, which thankfully means i have no blood relation to Ginny.” Hermione defended. She violently shivered at the thought of being a wizard and being married to a family member.

”Come on, breakfast at the great hall.” Hermione ushered, trying to switch the topic. To be frank, Ron doesn’t understand how the conversation went from his dilemma, to crushes, to incest.

Very productive.

Ron was chosen as keeper for the Gryffindor team a few months ago. Oliver Wood, the former keeper and captain had graduated recently.

Oliver Wood was very… passionate about quidditch, well, a little too passionate.

They were playing against Slytherin today. Ron felt a little nervous, he remembered the first time Gryffindor played against Slytherin. The Slytherin audience came up with a mocking cheer that made him lose his focus. It was orchestrated by Parkinson, which made Ron hate the girl even more than he already did.

Hermione was sitting by Ginny in the stands, Ron could see even from this distance the look of love on Hermione’s face. It honestly made him a little envious. Everyone around him was finding love, Ron isn’t supposed to tell anyone, not that he plans to— but, Percy and Oliver are dating.

Percy did leave the family quite dramatically, but he had a reason. Ron never knew that Percy felt outcasted and excluded in his own family.

He felt so fucking terrible when he heard it, he was a terrible brother for not noticing. Ron never suspected it, since Percy often bragged about his intelligence and achievements. In truth, he did it to seem equal to Bill and Charlie.

Percy just let it all out that night. He announced his decision to work for the ministry. Before Percy left the Burrow, Ron ran after him and demanded to know the real reason why he was leaving. They talked. It felt refreshing, and amazing— to finally understand his brother, and to realize that he’s been misunderstanding him for so long. Ron was the first to know about Percy and Oliver.

He felt shocked at first. Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley were two very different people. They were friends, but Ron had not expected it at all. Regardless, he showed Percy his support, it was the least he could do— to make up for lost time.

Ron was currently in the locker rooms, getting ready. He looked at himself in the mirror and his stomach twisted. What if Parkinson and the Slytherins pulled the same silly chant as before? He stared at himself, then at his helmet. This was his dream, he couldn’t let some silly snakes ruin it.

All his life, he hoped to be talented like his older brothers. Ron envied everything. He envied Bill for being prefect and head boy, he was jealous of Charlie, he was working in Romania— for merlin’s sake! Percy was annoying but annoyingly smart, the twins were inventors, they created so many things. They had talents in creation— why couldn’t he have it too? Ginny was mom’s little girl, they loved her no matter what.

Where did that leave him?

Ron wanted to win the Quidditch cup. If that’s what it would take for them to finally notice him. With one last exhale, Ron placed his uniform on and left the locker room.

He needed to win this match.

He met up with the other team members outside of the room. Harry was a little too hell-bent at knocking Malfoy out of his broom, speaking of Malfoy— he wasn’t the Slytherin seeker anymore, but rather a chaser now. Terrence Higgs came back as seeker, albeit still bitter about Malfoy.

I mean, who wouldn’t be?

“Hey, mate.” Ron touched Harry’s shoulder, watching with a low groan. “You’re scaring everyone with your mumbling.” He chuckled, which made Harry’s cheeks heat up.

”I wasn’t mumbling too loud.” Harry defended. “I just can’t wait to plummet Malfoy’s arse to the ground.” He grinned wickedly, which slightly reminded Ron of the twins— making his shiver involuntary. It reminded him of the grin Fred and George had when he drank their frog potion. Dark times.

“Or maybe you just can’t wait to snog him?” Ron teased with a knowing grin. Harry’s already flushed cheeks flushed even more on his tan skin. “Kiddin’, unless…”

Harry glared at him sharply, making Ron chuckle and snort. “We need to head to the field.” Ron said after a few seconds, helping Harry up and patting his back playfully.

”If we lose, just send the twins after Malfoy.” Ron suggested with a childish wink. He remembered the time George beat Malfoy up the muggle way— it was truly a sight to behold.

Ron sighed deeply as he got into position. He was so afraid of messing up his chances  at this match. As usual, Malfoy taunted Harry on his broom, and judging by Harry’s expression, Ron can’t tell if Harry liked it or hated it.

“Make sure not to fall off of your broom this time, Potter.” Malfoy spat, he was talking about the dementor incident from third year. It was pretty shitty to bring that up, knowing what Harry felt and heard. Regardless, Harry had a cocky smirk..

”Worried, ferret?” At that mention, Malfoy’s cheeks turned embarrassingly pink while his lip quivered in shame. Mad-eye Moody had caught Malfoy attempting to hex Harry, and turned him into a ferret— it got a good laugh out of many.

What slightly caught Ron’s attention was the other chaser for the Slytherin team, Zabini. When Ron laid eyes on him, he was quite surprised when their eyes met. Zabini had stunning dark brown eyes, they sparkled under the sun. Zabini looked away just as Ron looked back.

Weird. But what truly drew the attentions of others to Zabini was his good looks and elegance. Ron’s heard a few things about Mrs Zabini, they say she is very beautiful— and ethereal. Zabini seems to have taken his mother’s good looks.

Ron hated the way his eyes traced every inch of Zabini. The way his grip hardened on his broom stick, his excessive blinking and turning away from him, and his beautiful sun-kissed mahogany skin under the bright sun.

Ron honestly sees himself 

...What the fuck was he thinking…

Malfoy took a deep breath, and his grin of confidence was back. “Don’t cry when i knock you off your broom, Potty.” Ron glared when Montague giggled, and poorly disguised it as a cough.

”Childish, isn’t it?” George whispered as the twins hovered near their little brother.

Fred grinned. “Not as childish as you are.” He teased, making George laugh.

“As much as this is entertaining.” Angelina cut in. “Please go to your respective positions,” She stared at Harry, who smiled sheepishly. “Keep it up and i’ll convince McGonagall to lock you two in a broom closet.” She warned.

”Yeah, not a great idea.” Ron whispered to himself. “Might get different results.” He completely forgot the twins were right next to him, and was startled when they both burst out in laughter.

Angelina cocked a brow. “What’s funny, Weasley’s?” The twins waved her off as she rolled her eyes.

”Turns out you are funny, after all.” Fred winked at Ron, who made an odd expression.

”I’ve always been funny.” Ron argued. If Fred and George considered someone funny— you just know they mean it. I mean, the two devil-incarnates knew what fun was. They were cut off by Angelina calling for everyone’s attention.

”Positions, now!” Angelina yelled, making everyone in the Gryffindor team shift toward the center of the pitch. Angelina was truly a scary witch.

Everyone followed her demands, the air was a little tense. Ron wasn’t surprised, the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was legendary, after all.

Malfoy was glaring at Harry from across the pitch. Ron watched with barely hidden disgust as Malfoy winked at Harry with a cocky smirk. And Harry? The love-stricken fool gad simply frozen up and blushed.

Ron scanned his eyes through the bleachers and finally laid eyes on Hermione and Ginny. They were cheering the loudest out of everyone, Ron hopes they took some sort of potion that prevented sore throats.

Hermione and Ginny looked spectacular together. Hermione was jumping up and down, clapping and screaming like a total banshee. Ginny clung to Hermione’s arm and attempted to match her energy. But even from this distance, Ron saw Ginny’s pale flushed cheeks.

He wanted to do good in this match. He wanted to win. And even if they don’t win, Ron hopes they won’t be too defeated about it. He absolutely cannot be knocked off of his broom! He gripped the broom stick hardly and sighed deeply. His nerves tensed, but seeing his friend and little sister cheer so loudly made him calm down a little.

Madam Hooch held her whistle, “On your marks.. go!” She said with a loud blow of her whistle. And the game had begun.

The quaffle was released. Angelina, Katie, and Alicia immediately dived for the quaffle. Malfoy, Zabini, and Montague did too.

”And they’re off! Alicia Spinnet has the quaffle, doing amazing—Oh! Malfoy has stolen the quaffle!” Lee announced, a little panicked when Malfoy caught the quaffle from Alicia.

Ron flew upwards just in time to kick the quaffle away from the hoop with the back of his broom. He grinned when Malfoy’s face turned red in anger. Oh, this felt amazing!

”Ron Weasley swoops in and defends the hoops!— Fred Weasley has just blasted a bludger towards Montague— clean hit! Ten-out-of-ten!!” Lee screeched. 

Harry was zooming around the pitch, trying to find the golden snitch. George ended up hitting a bludger that went after Katie.

Angelina grinned when she was finally able to shoot the quaffle in Slytherin’s hoops. The keeper for Slytherin— who Ron never bothered to learn the name of, looked dumbfounded and glared at Angelina.

“And Angelina Johnson shoots right through! Ten points to Gryffindor, way to go!” Lee Jordan screamed, before being told off by the Slytherin students for being biased.

Ron curses to himself when Zabini hit the quaffle just by his side, and scored. Damn it. Lee made a lazy announcement of Zabini scoring, which made him snort.

“There goes Montague, who believes he will score accidental points if he crashes into everyone! The Slytherins are already playing dirty!” Ron saw the moment Katie fell off her broom after being knocked off by Montague— fuck him.

”Meanwhile, Angelina Johnson has the quaffle— she dodges Zabini— spectacular, Angelina!— DID CRABBE JUST THROW HIS BAT?! THAT IS NOT ALLOWED——“

“Angelina, on your left!” Alicia yells. Angelina was lucky enough to barely dodge the flying bat.

Harry grinned when he finally spots the golden snitch, he goes faster on his broom across the pitch and trails behind the golden ball with his eyes.

“Harry Potter lays his eyes on the golden snitch!— Terrence Higgs also dives for it, as they both fight it out— Higgs is blasted by a bludger— thrown by George Weasley! WAY TO GO GEORGE, YOU’RE AWESOME—“ McGonagall scolds Lee, who scoffs.

Ron continues to throw off the quaffles flying towards the hoops. He glances at the scoreboard, they were ahead by twenty points. “Katie Bell is back and up!—scoring through the hoops— ten points to Gryffindor!!”

”You can do it, Harry!” Fred yells, attempting to hype him up.

Harry groans as he shakily stands on his broom. He was doing the same move during first year.

“Potter is standing on his broom! He’s got his hand out, dodging bludgers like a pro— he’s almost got the snitch— Malfoy has scored— ten points to Slytherin!” Lee says rather unenthusiastic.

“You’re amazing, Harry!” Ron yelled out with a grin, while Harry did as well.

What Ron did not expect when turning around was the quaffle two inches away from his face.

He barely registers it before it hits him square on the face. Ron falls off his broom— fuck how could he let this happen? He feels hot liquid drizzling down his nose and to his lips. His eyes shut slowly as everyone’s screams were muffled— Ron groans loudly when he hits the ground.

Then, everything went dark.

His face was painful. That quaffle just hit him on the face— who the fuck threw that? Was it Malfoy? Was he getting his revenge over the flirting?! Still, this was too much.

Then, Ron realized— they were without a keeper. He was asleep, unconscious, he felt it. He just caused the team to be at a disadvantage. Did they lose the match?

”—-aking up!” Ron vaguely saw Hermione brown curls hovering over his sleeping self.

Ron slowly opens his eyes, “Where am i?” He asks, his nose hurt like a bitch. Until now, he could feel his ears ringing from the impact.

“Madam Pomfrey’s.” Ginny answered, wiping her sweat off. “You scared us terribly— shit!” She raised her voice, only to be hushed by Madam Pomfrey.

They were interrupted by the sounds of multiple footsteps running towards his bed. It must be the team. They must be mad— he cost them the match.

”Mate! Blimey, you’re awake!” Harry yelled, he immediately went to Ron’s side and worried for him. “Are you feeling okay? Any pain?

”Nose. Ears.” Ron said in a haze. His nose was broken! “Did we lose?”

”Almost. Harry lost the snitch after you fell, but he still got it in the end.” Angelina butted in, sighing while combing through her hair. “Feeling alright, Ron?”

Ron sighed, “a little better. I’m glad i didn’t cost the match, i really didn’t see the quaffle going for my face.” He chuckled.

Madam Pomfrey came, and gave him a quick check up. He had a nosebleed, his nose wasn’t broken—thank merlin! And a slight concussion after falling.

”By the way,” Ron said, after Madam Pomfrey left. “Who hit me?” He said rather seriously. If it was Malfoy—

“Oh yeah, it was Zabini.”

Ron choked on air.

Chapter Text

Ron felt pretty dumbfounded when Alicia said it was Zabini who hit him. They did ask if it was on purpose, and Zabini reluctantly admitted to Professor Snape, that it was indeed on purpose. He didn’t say why, only that he did it on purpose.

How desperate were they to win?

It annoyed him. He almost cost Gryffindor the match because Zabini decided to throw the quaffle at him— which Ron will forever be bitter about.

His head was still ringing a bit, Madam Pomfrey gave him some pain relief through a spell—not that it really helped. He also had a bruise on his arm from the impact of falling. Ron stared at the yellow-purple spot on his arm. It looked bad.

Anyways, Madam Pomfrey released him from the clinic. Since practically everyone was at the match, they all saw him get hit by the quaffle in the face— it was embarrassing. Zabini’s been avoiding him. Was he too ashamed of his actions?

Professor Snape probably awarded him instead of punishing him. After all, the man hated him.

Harry and Hermione wouldn’t leave his side after a few people have mocked him for what happened. Ginny even got in trouble with Professor McGonagall after she used her bat-bogey hex on a Ravenclaw for laughing at him. For the first time in a while, Ron felt… cared for, appreciated. Which was odd, since he was barely appreciated in his life.

It’s been two days since the match. And Ron was currently in the library. He needed a bit of quiet time, not that he wanted to read… it was just that the library had a rule to keep silent while inside. They would suffer the wrath of Madam Pince if they broke those rules.

He was in a secluded corner of the library. In between two rows of bookshelves. He mumbled a quick air-conditioning spell Hermione taught him, Ron immediately felt relaxed as the cold air hit his face. It was so hot out today, if only this spell lasted forever.

Anyways, he randomly picked out a book from one of the shelves here, and it did end up intriguing him— it doesn’t happen a lot. It was a book about Runes. He hated Runes, but reading what each one could do was very interesting. It was a good thing he managed to remember leaving a note at the dorms in case Harry wondered where he was.

Ron spent maybe half an hour there, before he felt a little drowsy. His free period time was running out, he should get packing— and no more sleeping! He shut the book and lazily placed it back on the shelf. Still, he sat there, on the ground for a few more minutes. He felt too lazy to attend classes.

”Weasley?” Ron snapped his head up to the call of his name. There was a head peeking out from above him. And fuck, it was a face he recognized all too well.

It was no one other than Blaise Zabini.

Ron fell silent for a few seconds, before shaking his head. “What do you want, Zabini?” He asked coldly. His eyes must be playing tricks on him— ‘cause did Zabini really just flinch at his tone? THE Blaise Zabini.

”Okay, look.” Zabini sighed, “I want to… uhm… apologize— for you know.” This might just be the most bullshit way Ron has ever heard anyone attempt to apologize.

”How did you find me?” Ron changed the topic. Only Harry and Seamus knew where he was. “Did you sneak around trying to catch me off-guard? What? Going to hit me with a quaffle again?” He said without realizing.— he certainly did not miss the way Zabini’s face twisted in shame.

Ron never EVER thought he’d catch Blaise Zabini with such an expression. He was in Slytherin, he gave off that natural enigmatic aura that made anyone nervous, he was elegant, and was careful.

”No. I am… sorry about hitting you on the face.” Zabini said quietly, rubbing the back of his head with a slight pink tinge dusted on his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ron’s jaw slightly fell. He stared at Zabini as if he grew two heads— woah, did he just apologize? The same Zabini who glared at him all through their shared classes?? The same one who normally blows him off coldly? The Zabini who called him a blood traitor?

Now it was just confusing. Ron did despise Zabini for uttering those hateful words, but they never directly spoke with one another unless it was for class. Ron considered his relationship with Zabini to be… undefined, but civil.

Right now, there was an odd look on Zabini’s expression, like he had just fought someone. His collar was messy, and there was a slight handprint on his neck.

“Okay.” Ron almost fumbled over his own words.

Zabini blinked. “So… you forgive me?” The words left his lips so lightly, Ron’s eye twitched at the lack of empathy in his words and expression.

Ron’s lip quivered, was he serious? In an instant, he scoffed and looked at the annoyingly handsome man in front of him. And it even looked like Zabini’s ego was bruised having to apologize to a ‘blood traitor.’ Was saying a simple ‘sorry’ so shameful?

Or was it shameful because it was Ron Weasley?

”…Obviously not!” Ron roared, anger rushing through his body. The volume of his voice was so strong, it earned him a harsh ‘shh’ from Madam Pince. It seems it shook Zabini as well— but he was too enraged to care.

He should have known Zabini wasn’t being sincere in his words, Zabini was sorted into the house of the cunning— he must have been forced to apologize to him. Zabini was faking it, he was doing it for his own fucking good. Of course he only cares about himself! Why did Ron ever believe they were on okay terms even after the blood traitor thing? He was an idiot for believing in it.

Zabini stayed uncomfortably quiet. The silence was awkward, only accompanied by Ron’s ragged breaths as his fingernails scratched the book cover—Madam Pince was going to kill him. But, if there was one thing Ron hated, it was insincerity and lies.

”I didn’t mean to assume, my mistake.” Zabini mumbled as he casted his gaze away. He still seemed indifferent, other than the flinch from earlier— Ron hated it. Zabini was like a code he couldn’t crack, he remained unfazed in everything he did.

Ron still doesn’t understand why so many of the witches at Hogwarts seem to adore Zabini so much. His attitude was like rotten trash, the way he bites his lower lip was stupid, Zabini and his damn silk robes—

“Look. I don’t know who set you up to this, but drop it.” Ron stated. “I hate people like you. You think you’re so above everyone.”

Zabini stared. “No one set me up to this, honest. I don’t know what compelled me to do that to you, but— i’m sorry.”

”I don’t forgive you.”

”Why not?” Was he serious?

”Are you seriously asking me ‘why’?” Ron deadpanned. Man, if he wasn’t inside the fucking library right now— “Oh shit, i have class!” Ron panicked as he saw it was already two minutes before ten, he didn’t bother sparing Zabini a single glance and bolted out of the library.

It really wasn’t Blaise’s intention to hurt Weasley.

Look, he did feel terrible for hitting him in the face during a match, that’s the reason why he was apologizing. It just really pissed him off that Weasley had the guts to compliment Potter. In front of him. Not that Weasley knew, but it did ignite something in him.

And before he knew it, the quaffle that he was initially going to aim at the hoop went flying towards Ron Weasley’s face. It only sunk in for Blaise what he had just done after the infamous Weasley twins had to be restrained from beating him up right there and now.

”Did you purposely hit the quaffle towards Mr Weasley?” Professor Snape drawled in his usual bone-chilling voice. Blaise shivered, Professor Snape was looking down on him for an answer.

”I don’t know.” Blaise lied, though not very smoothly. He is aware that Professor Snape knows he’s lying, but he oddly did not push for an answer. “I did it on purpose.” Blaise said after an excruciating ten seconds of silence.

”I assume you won’t tell me why?” Blaise hesitantly nodded, which made his professor sigh and rub his temples. “I do not care so much about trivial matters, but Albus and Minerva are demanding an explanation.” He said, glaring at Blaise.

Blaise bit his lip. If he told the truth, Hogwarts would turn him into a fool. If they found out, he would be outcasted. He couldn’t tell anyone he liked Ron Weasley. Weasley, the pure-blood who did not live like one—Weasley, the blood traitor.

”You are dismissed.” Professor Snape said menacingly. Blaise nodded and left the potions classroom in a hurry, if he wasn’t Slytherin, he knew Professor Snape would have used all means possible to get an answer. Luckily, he was one of his snakes.

He wasn’t sure what Professor Snape would tell Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. But the Slytherins have one rule that mustn’t be broken—Always have each others backs. They travel in packs, they protect one another no matter what. The rule applied to Professor Snape as well, since he created it— Blaise knew he was protected.

When he arrived back at the Slytherin common room, he was quickly bombarded with questions about his meeting with Professor Snape, was he in trouble?, was he scolded? Or was he let off? Blaise knows the other Slytherins mean no harm, but they needed to tone it down a bit.

“Give him some space, everyone!” Pansy yelled out, and thankfully, most of them listened. Pansy was quite a fearsome woman, after all.

Beside her was Draco, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Blaise knew he wanted to talk about his weird behavior, it wasn’t like he blindly followed Draco around all the time— but they were friends. Blaise doesn’t know if that so-called-friendship would last if they found out about his secret.

Blaise smiled at the others, resisting the urge to roll his eyes when a few others had flushed cheeks. He hated people fawning over him, he didn’t even talk to these people much. He made his way up to he and Draco’s shared dorm— with Pansy trailing behind. Luckily, the prefects were out, they couldn’t reprimand Pansy for entering the boys dormitory, and them for allowing it.

”So…” Pansy looked at him expectantly. “Did you get in trouble?” She grinned, identical to a mischievous fox.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “You seem to get off on my misery. But no, Professor Snape is covering for me.” He answered, shrugging.

”It’s Slytherin code, of course he’d cover for you.” Draco grumbled, his arms were crossed as he leaned on the wall. “Ready to tell us why you’ve been acting strange for days?”

”I told you, Draco.” Blaise sighed. “I was just letting off some steam, though i did do it at the wrong moment.” It was an obvious lie, but Blaise didn’t know how else to say it.

Draco was pushy. He felt the need to know everything, he didn’t understand the definition of secrets. Blaise did care for Draco, they’ve been friends for years! But sometimes, his behavior was too much.

”Don’t be ridiculous, you’re someone who can keep his temper under control— especially somewhere on the field.” Draco snarled. “We’re your friends, you can tell us anything.”

”Did your mother try and reinstate you and Pansy’s engagement?” At the mention of their previous engagement, Blaise’s expression soured, and so did Pansy’s.

His mother was incredibly angry when he mentioned he did not want the engagement. Blaise’s mother was good friends with the Parkinson Matriarch, but Blaise threatened to give up his heirship if it continued.

Blaise shook his head, and Draco continued to push for answers. It was really getting to him, Draco’s constant chatter about friends sharing everything was annoying, to say the least. He couldn’t understand respecting boundaries when it came to anyone. No wonder Potter moved on to Weasley.

His dumb, small peabrain couldn't understand that. He was always pushing past boundaries— and Blaise was tired of it. It's been like this since first year, having to deal with it every single day.

“Hey, chill out.” Pansy softly scolded. “Blaise has his own secrets, okay?” Blaise was thankful for Pansy during times like this, she knew his secret and kept it.

”But it’s bothering him, Pansy!” Draco retorted. “It’s our job as his friends to know.”

After hearing a few more chattering from the blonde, Blaise snapped.

"Fuck off, Draco!" Blaise blurted out, only to immediately regret it when Draco's face twisted into a sour expression. "Sorry-"

Draco's brows furrowed as his chest heaved. "I'm worried, Blaise! And you tell me to 'fuck off'?!" Draco yelled. "Just fucking tell us! We're your friends!"

Again with the friends.

"Hey, Hey! Draco, calm down-" Pansy tried to diffuse the situation, like she always did. It often came down to this.

He and Draco arguing, Pansy standing beside Draco and only stepping in when she knows the argument will turn violent.

”You know what, Draco?” Blaise said. “I am utterly sick of your shit! You’re always going on and on about how friends should always trust each other— but you have a different definition of trust in your head! Trust is when you rely and place your faith on someone, not forcing it out! You act like you’re so high and mighty just because if your family, but i am sick, sick and tired!” He said in one breath.

Draco grit his teeth. “Well if you weren’t so damn secretive all the time, i wouldn’t have to do this—“

”You’re wrong, even if i’m not being secretive, you’re always like this.” Blaise grunted. “Don’t you see the issue, Draco?”

When his friends stayed awfully silent for a long time, Blaise got his answer.

”You are seriously insensitive, and you’re in love with Potter!” Blaise spat, he couldn’t control his sudden hate for Potter. He needed to shut his mouth before he said something he might regret, but he couldn’t.

Draco lifted a brow. “What does my feelings with Potter have to do with this?”

Pansy froze on the spot, she looked a little pale, as if trying to process what just happened in the past two minutes. She snuck a glance towards Blaise, mentally warning him not to do anything dumb. She secretly casted a silencing charm.

”Answer me, Blaise.” Draco’s voice trembled, his eyes widening. “What does it have to do with our argument?!”

Pansy tried to cut in. ”He doesn’t mean—“

”Pansy, back off for now.” Draco said, and Pansy did. His eyes met Blaise’s hazy brown ones. “What are you trying to say, Blaise Zabini.”

“That you’re in love with a filthy half-blood!” Blaise screamed. And before he could say anything else, Draco ran towards him and pushed him against the wall, anger seeping through his veins.

”Fuck you, Blaise!” Draco screeched, still holding him by the collar. “I know you’re interested in the Weasel!” Blaise froze.

”Pansy told me everything! She told me you had eyes for that blood traitor scum, you have no right to criticize me when you’re in love with a Weasley!”

Pansy did what.

Blaise couldn’t care less about the grip Draco had on him, all he could think about was Pansy. He glanced at the girl and she looked ashamed, guilty.

”What the fuck, Pansy?!” Blaise sputtered, how could Pansy just do that to him? He told her about his troubles in fucking confidence! On the belief that he could trust her, and that she could keep a secret.

”I’m sorry! I-I accidentally let it slip, and i—“ Pansy tried to explain, but the sharp look of betrayal from Blaise cut her off

”Save it!” Blaise said, pushing Draco away and getting back on his feet. “I trusted you.” He stared at Pansy, before stomping away.

He didn’t care about the stares he got from the common room, the amount of attempts the others did to try and stop him. Blaise’s eyes suddenly felt hot, how could Pansy just do that to him? His heart tightened.

Blaise found himself speeding down the hallways of Hogwarts, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. He was really close to ripping his own hair out because of the stress.

He didn’t understand why Pansy would tell Draco the very thing he desperately wanted no one to know. Blaise told her because he felt as if she could be trusted, but then she blames it in a slip up? It was ridiculous.

”What’s up with you?” Daphne Greengrass mumbled, after Blaise accidentally bumped her shoulder. She had dropped her books, and Blaise quickly got on his knees and picked them up in a rush.

Daphne Greengrass. Pansy’s girlfriend, and the heir to the house of Greengrass.

”Nothing. I’m sorry about bumping into you.” It was quite laughable. He never apologized to anyone for trivial matters like this, his mind was conflicted.

Just as Blaise was about to leave, Daphne stopped him. “Can you be my date to the Yule Ball?” Blaise almost choked on air.

”What?” He asked meekly.

”Don’t worry, i’m not into you.” She assured him. “I wanted to take Pansy—“ the mere mention of her name made Blaise’s nose scrunch. “—but apparently, same gender dates aren’t allowed. Stupid rule, if you ask me.”

Blaise hummed, he did hear from Professor Snape that they can’t have the same gender as their dates. Since the Wizarding world was very old school. He didn’t really have a choice now, did he?

”Yeah, i needed a date as well. Going alone is embarrassing.” He chuckled lowly.

Daphne raised a brow. “You have witches lining up to be your date.” She deadpanned.

”I don’t like them.” He admitted. His fangirls were annoying, earlier this year, he saw someone pour a love potion in his drink. The lengths the witches interested in his would go… was very frightening.

”You swing the other way?” She asked casually, and Blaise nodded reluctantly. “Don’t worry, i won’t snitch if you don’t.” Daphne winked.

”Deal.” Blaise grinned. He hoped Daphne kept her word, unlike a certain someone.

He said his farewells to Daphne. They had never been close before, just a few greeting here and there, but Blaise felt like they could really be friends.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a certain redhead enter the library— and without a second thought, he followed.

Ron wanted to slam his head on a table. The Yule Ball was approaching rapidly, and he still hadn’t found a date yet.

Plus, his encounter with Zabini from earlier still got on his nerves. He can never understand what that boy is always thinking about.

”…Ron, stop stabbing your fork on the table.” Hermione scolded.

”Hey… Harry… did you get a date yet?” Ron asked, staring at him with crazed eyes while laying his head on the table. Harry was a champion, which meant he was the one out of them three that really needed a date.

Harry smiled, “I asked Susan from Hufflepuff, she agreed, since she also was in need of a date.” Oh geez, even Harry’s found one.

“Hey ‘Mione… got a date yet?”

Hermione had been in a foul mood all evening. After finding out you couldn’t take a girl as a date if you’re a girl— same applied to the boys.

”Viktor Krum asked me.” And Ron immediately shot up. Viktor Krum?! THE Viktor Krum?!

”You know Ron, i can hear your thoughts from all the way here— i didn’t answer him yet, though.” Hermione added. “He’s a little too old for me, you know?”

Ron sighed. “Am i the only one who doesn’t have a date?!” He exclaimed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Calm down, wanna go together, as friends?” She asked casually, and Ron immediately looked excited.

”Hell yes. I’m going to be a total outcast if i show up with no date! Thanks, ‘Mione.”

”No problem.” Hermione took a sip of her tea. Well that was one problem solved.

Chapter Text

The last thing Daphne wanted was to walk in her girlfriend's dorm room just to find said girlfriend an absolute mess. When she finally found out about the situation-- after many tears-- she tried her best to comfort Pansy. But there was really so much she can do.

"And then i just blurted out that Blaise had taken a slight fancy to Wea--- to someone!"

"Pansy, you do know it wasn't your place to say anything to him."

Daphne cast a stern scolding look towards her girlfriend. No wonder Blaise seemed to be in a terrible mood earlier. She should have been more sensitive with him, especially since he was now her date to the Yule ball. She still thinks the same-sex rule is ridiculous, do they not know queer people exist? It is a formal event, but can't they bend the rules a bit?

"I know, Daph." Pansy said, ashamed. "Draco was bugging me about it for hours, and i just got so angry--" She suddenly stopped, took a deep breath, and pursed her lips. "I want to apologize, but Blaise runs away the moment we lock eyes." She slightly whined, only for her face to flush at the embarrasing noise she let out.

"You know how Draco is." She mumbled. "He's loud-- and will taunt you for shit he wants to know. He has this superior feeling-- like, he needs to know everything! It's so annoying." Pansy complained harder.

Daphne was torn. She didn't know what to tell Pansy. She knows how much Pansy treasures Draco and Blaise, after al, they were her best friends. They were often attached at the hip, ever since first year, and even before they started to get closer.

"I can try and talk to him." She suggested. "You know i asked him out to the ball, maybe i can bring it up with him while we discuss outfits?" Pansy looked unsure, but reluctantly nodded. Her eyebags had gotten worse, like she had been losing sleep-- and her fingernails were chipped from biting them all the time. Her bottom lip had scars as well.

She hated seeing Pansy so wrecked.

"It seems like my best option right now. I can't do this, Daph. I feel like shit right now, i just... gave him out like that." Pansy groans loudly, hiding her face in her hands. Pansy chuckled a little, it was airy and full of distress, she must be really frustrated. 

Daphne sighed, she leaned forward and cupped the other girl's cheeks. "Don't worry about it, darling. I'm sure you guys will patch things up." She softly pressed a kiss to Pansy's lips, licking her lips after-- tasting Pansy's chapstick.

"Trust me, alright?" Pansy blinked, nuzzling into Daphne's touch. "What about Draco?" She questioned, she still had a bone to pick with Malfoy after he had pressured Pansy.

Daphne wasn't quite close with Draco. There would be occasional greetings between them, and the longest conversation they've ever had was about the time they had to pair up together for potions. Draco was the type of person Daphne disliked, she only tolerated him for Pansy. And their families did not quite like each other, due to their choices not to follow the pureblood traditions. It was safe to say that Draco was exasperatiing.

Oh Pansy. She loved her so much. Daphne would never forgive herself if Pansy ever got hurt, the only girl to ever make her feel loved. Greengrasses cherished their partners, and would burn the world for them. Daphne missed Pansy's cheerful forehead kisses and energeticness. 

"Thinks he did nothing wrong." Came Pansy's exasperated response. Her nerves softened when Daphne combed through her hair, her girlfriend had such a gentle touch. "Some idiot he is, thinks he's too mighty for apologies." 

Daphne rolled her eyes but a hundred-percent agreed. "Of course he does." Having been raised as a traditional pureblood was annoying, thinking you're so above everyone. It was a good thing she wasn't raised that way, despite being from a pureblood family. She knows that deep down Draco is not such a rotten person, it was just his upbringing.

"Don't worry, love." Pansy shivered when Daphne locked eyes with her. "I'll deal with it." She felt Pansy let out a soft breath, finally allowing her nerves to rest. Daphne brought her to her room and spent the rest of the day keeping her eyes on Pansy.

Pansy was so beautiful. Her slightly messy curly hair falling on her face made her look like a character straight out of a fairytale, and her signature sneer replaced by a thin press of her lips. Her bright almond eyes which were always filled with mischief-- she was perfect-- perfect in Daphne's eyes.

The most beautiful girl ever.

Ron was making his way to History of Magic. Except he was running, he was struggling to breathe, he's gotten so many odd looks after dashing down the halls. His tie was a mess. What was wrong with him?

It's been three days after his encounter with Zabini in the library.

And his every thought has been plagued by his stupidly handsome face. In fact, remembering his words from that day made him so enraged he accidentally broke  a little flower vase in their dorm.

Ron remembers every insult, every fight between them. Zabini's been non-stop apologizing since the day in the library. Zabini knows his little spot in the library, and catches him there everytime. It felt great having someone who used to mock him so desperate for a simple 'i forgive you'

"What do you want, again?" Ron spat.

Zabini stared straight at him. "To express how sorry i am. Does it make you uncomfortable? I'll stop of it does."

Ron simply stared, then turned around, hot on his heel and left the library. Why didn't he say-- 'yes, i need you to stop.'

Zabini had slipped a note into his book two days ago. All it said was 'Sorry.' And Ron still believed he was set up to this-- so he did the modt logical thing he could do, crumple the paper. Then he made the dumb mistake of looking at Zabini as he did. Because he pouted. As in-- pouted.

It was so adorable, but Ron would rather wear one of Ginny's dresses around Hogwarts than ever admit it. He couldn't understand why he thought of it like that, maybe he had gotten possessed by a spirit who may have a crush on Zabini?

At last, he finally spotted his friends and stopped running. Though he could swear he was having heart palpitations. They walked together like normal, even though he refused to answer Harry or Hermione's questions about him running around.

"You're looking quite handsome today, Harry." Ron said. He had to keep doing his little deal with Harry, since Malfoy is too much of a stubborn person to admit defeat. And if Harry wanted to make Malfoy finally submit, then Ron just needs to turn up the flirting.

He knew Malfoy was about to pass them, like he always did in the hallway to History of Magic. Ron held back a snicker. Though it seemed like the Slytherin trio haven't really been... trio'ing lately. Malfoy was often alone, or with Crabbe and Goyle-- whom Ron knows he only hung out with when he had no one else. Parkinson looked haggard the past few days, and Zabini seemed to avoid them. He was curious to know what happened, but didn't really care.

..But he really wanted to know. I mean, these three have practically been inseparable since first year. And if Malfoy is that desperate to be with Crabbe and Goyle... okay, but he heard a little something from the Ravenclaws. Apparently they had a huge fight one night, but no one knows what happened in the fight-- since Malfoy had casted a silencing charm.

It was the school's biggest gossip at the moment. 

"Why, thank you." Harry replied curtly. "You're also very pleasing to the eyes today." He said, winking. Beside them, Hermione shot them the most disgusted, offended look ever.

She clutched her books to her chest and shook her head. "You two are so embarrassing, i literally cannot be seen with you guys." She said, but did not make any effort to move away from them both.

"I'm just complimenting Harry's looks, 'Mione. Jealous?" Ron teased, making the other roll her eyes and groan. "Just kidding." 

"Not jealous. You're gross." Hermione replied, huffing. "But go do it when you are much closer to him." She said quietly, making Ron grin.

"Definitely." Ron responded, but the sudden scent of Bergamot passing by him distracted him.

He inclined his head to the side only to meet Zabini's eyes, he wasn't sure what possessed him to keep eye contact-- but he smiled-- Zabini smiled and waved at him.

Oh. What the fuck.

Zabini must be really commited to earning his... forgiveness. Even going as far acknowledging a 'blood traitor'--his words not his-- in public. But Ron knows that no matter what Zabini does, nothing will erase what he said. He hated people who hurled insults at his family for their lifestyle. And Zabini wasn't any different.

He turned away from Zabini, and ignored the intense heat in his face. The same smell of Bergamot from his Amortentia, what did this mean? Now that he thinks about it, Zabini fits every single scent in his Amortentia-- this couldn't be happening. Bergamot, books, and expensive cologne. Zabini smelled like Bergamot earlier,  his nose is often stuck in a book, and.... the cologne.

Oh.

Oh.

When did-- no, how? Why was he just realizing this in the middle of the hallway? Blimey, he's been so--blind, so stupid all this time! It was right in front of him, Zabini finally passed by him, leaving the lingering aroma of Bergamot. How could this be?! Ron leaned on a wall and felt his entire body twitch.

Oh, Merlin.

"--Ron? Earth to Ron!" Harry's voice was so high pitched he jumped. Hermione was waving her hand in front of his face frantically. "Mate, what's going on with you?" Harry frowned.

Ron was so... ashamed-- "Hey, i need the bathroom really quick, go--uhm, go to class without me." And without waiting for a response, Ron ran away, ignoring his friends' yells and screams for him to come back.

His face was embarrasingly hot the entire time, but his growing fear on his... 'fated-one' as Hermione called it-- made things worse. Ron was so confused, Why was it Zabini? Why did those scents he smelled in his Amortentia... him? Couldn't it be... someone else? Like Lavender Brown?? Like-- like-- why not a girl? His mother is very old fashioned, that's why Percy does not dare go public with his relationship. His mother is frightening when it comes to their partners, like Bill-- she disapproved immediately of his girlfriend and caused a fit when Bill refused to leave his girlfriend.

Bill and his girlfriend did end up drifting away because of that, but they ended on good terms. And also, his mother had expressed her dislike for queer people, she was the type of person to believe in traditional gender roles. Honestly, Ron doesn't quite know what she does everyday with no kids in the house. She thinks that the women should stay home, and even Ginny is fed up with mom attempting to teach her how to 'please' her future husband. Ha. If only mom knew. Mom could never really wrap her head around the fact that queer people do in fact exist.

It's one of the biggest things Ron has never told anyone-- not Ginny, not the twins, no one. Although he's sure half of his siblings are gay. Bill is probably straight, Charlie has no interest in matters like love, Fred is... yeah, he doesn't know, not sure about George-- Ron is.. he just realized he doesnmt know what his sexuality is, and Ginny has a girlfriend.

He remembers his tiny crush on Harry back then. It did not last long. But Ron recalled the brief moments where he admired Harry from a far, or even when they were together. Harry was just so charming. But even back then, not even Harry, made him blush like an idiot and make his heart skip beats.

Well, when he was finally in the bathroom, he locked himself in a stall and started silently freaking out. How could this be? He's asked himself the same question over and over. Why couldn't it be someone else? Why was it Blaise Zabini? Ron did not know what to call his-- whatever he felt at the moment, he couldn't be in love with someone like Zabini, he couldn't.

The same Blaise Zabini who insulted his family? The same Zabini who backed up Malfoy in his bullying, and mocking? And even if the 'fated-one' bollocks that Hermione talked about was real, there is no way someone like Blaise Zabini could stoop so low and catch feelings for him. Not like Ron wanted him to, or did Ron like him. Moreover, Ron hated himself more for allowing himself to think about a prejudiced-- bigoted pure-blood in this way.

I mean, he was very upset. In a way, he sort of felt like he was.... he didn't know how to describe the feeling. Harry fancies Malfoy, the same Malfoy who tormented them for years! Ron had been so infuriated when Harry told him, but held it in as to not cause a huge outburst and alarm the whole school. Hermione was also put off by it, not being entirely over the 'mudblood' thing, and Ron understands-- completely. He hated Malfoy so much, for making Harry fall for him, for being a stupid pure-blood, everything. But Ron can't bear to be angry with Harry, his best friend-- the first friend he made in Hogwarts, and his brother in everything but blood.

"What's happening to me?" Ron murmured quietly. Why was he in a conflict about Zabini? It was just one brief moment of eye contact-- which happened way too often this past few weeks.

For a moment, Ron just stared at the bathroom door.

He needs to re-brew the Amortentia potion.

Ron ended up asking Fred for help. He contemplated his choices, but they were fairly limited. Besides, Fred has always been a bit better than George in potions. It was a bit awkward at first, not being able to tell his brother why he needed to brew Amortentia.

"Ronniekins, are you trying to love potion someone?" Fred asked teasingly, "That is past my morals, i cannot do that, if it is what you're aiming for."

Ron scrunched his face in annoyance. "I am not love potioning anyone. I just... need to confirm something." He scratched the back of his head nervously.

"So... just the scent? You need to confirm a crush, or something?" Fred wiggled his brows with a cocky smirk. "Don't fret, little bro', i can help. We recently just brewed it anyway. Still got the recipe somewhere... ah! There it is."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, he came to the right person. Fred usually has a lot to say, but he doesn't force answers out of someone. 

"Okay, boil the cauldron on low heat. I'll get the ingredients ready." And Ron did.

It took a while trying to get the recipe right-- due to the fact they were using an empty classroom for this, since Professor Snape would never let them do it in the classroom.

To be frank, the two didn't really talk much. Just small talk here and there-- screeching about the cauldron exploding, but other than that? Just the plain sounds of the knife cutting ingredients.

"So... who is the lucky girl?" Fred suddenly asked, making Ron pause. Would Fred judge him if he mentioned it wasn't a girl at all? "Or guy, some people have different preferences, you know." Oh, thank merlin.

He hesitated telling Fred at first. And it was just at that moment that Ron realized he hadn't had much privated conversations with Fred. Since it was always Fred and George when they did speak. And he was much, much closer to Ginny while growing up.

"It's a guy." Ron finally admitted. "You won't judge me if i tell you more?" He squeaked, a little embarrassed. When did talking to his siblings feel so awkward?

Fred suddenly laughed, making Ron feel confused. Did he say anything wrong? "Oh, Ronniekins. I, myself swing that way." Oh-- "If we're revealing secrets now, i have fancied Lee for quite some time now."

"Lee... Lee Jordan?" Ron questioned, baffled. There was no mistaking that Fred and Lee were close, but he didn't know Fred's feelings for Lee ran this deep.

"Yeah. He makes me feel... special." Fred said with a loving look. "Lee's always supported me in my matched, always the first to greet George and i on our birthday- and he can actually tell us apart!" Fred seemed really joyful when he mentioned that Lee could tell them apart. Ron was embarrassed that sometimes he still couldn't tell his twin brothers apart, especially seeing Fred so happy about it.

Ron took a deep breath. "It's a Slytherin. Will you still judge me?" Just checking the waters.

"Of course not." Fred dropped his knife, and turned to look at Ron. "George and i... we don't care about houses. Actually, in our first year... George was supposed to be in Ravenclaw, and i on Slytherin."

"W-What?" Ron blurted out. He did not know this information at all. "Is that true?"

Fred nodded, a fond smile on his thin lips. "But i wanted to stay with George, so i fought for Gryffindor, nearly became a hatstall myself!" How could he have been so prejudiced towards Slytherins when his own older brother was supposed to be one!

"My second house was Hufflepuff. But the sorting hat... it also considered Slytherin for me." He admitted. Ron still remembers the exact words the hat spoke to him.

A great thirst to surpass your brothers, and stand out. You would make a decent Slytherin, but are you willing to do anything?

Ron gave the hat an ambiguous answer. He didn't know if he was willing to do anything to make his parents proud, and make him anything else other than just 'Ron Weasley, another Weasley.'

"I suppose thay makes us a bit of the same." Fred's usual playful smirk had vanished, and only a genuine smile was on his lips now. "Here, drop these ingredients in the cauldron carefully." And Ron did just that. Who knew talking to Fred in a real one-on-one conversation felt so nice?

The potion finished brewing after a few minutes, and Fred carefully poured some on the pink potion into a bottle.

"Now," said Fred, leaning the bottle closer to Ron's nose. "Is it the same smell you're looking for?"

And much to Ron's horror-- it was. It was the same scent he had smelled from that day, and he was frightened, what did this mean, truly? Fred placed a hand on his shoulder when his breathing started to tirn erratic.

"What is it?" His brother asked in a soft voice, almost soothing. "You aren't breathing normally, and your eyes have been dazed for some time now."

Bergamot. Expensive cologne. Books.

And at that moment, Ron just let it all go. He buried his face into Fred's chest, and Fred-- bless him-- said nothing and hugged him tighter. This was the first time he's done something like this with Fred.

"What do i do, Fred?" said Ron, "No matter how many times i brew it, all i smell is him. It's messing with me, i don't want to smell him--"

"Shh, calm down." Fred whispered, "Is he that bad?"

Ron shook. "He's insulted me so many times, called me a blood-traitor-- stood by as Malfoy mocked me, Harry, Hermione. He's a terrible person, Fred. And... i think i like him." He confessed, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest. "Does that make me a bad person, too?"

"No." Fred said, quiet and calm. "It doesn't make you a bad person, Ron. Sometimes, we just can't control who we catch feelings for, like Harry. Besides, if this guy fancies you too..."

"Make him change."

Ron paused, and started thinking. All this time, he'd only denied any possibility thay Zabini liked him-- fancied him, even. But how did he know that?

"How did you find out you fancied Lee?" Ron asked, and Fred seemed very delighted to give him an answer.

"Well, for starters... i wanted to get better at quidditch so that he'd compliment me more. And i noticed that Lee started to get closer to me, and i mean like spending time with me in the library-- just the two of us. And also, when we'd quarrel, Lee always leaves a little note in my book apologizing. It made my heart warm everytime, i kept all of his notes in a box." Fred started to count everything that made him fall for Lee after that, and to say that Ron was amazed is an understatement.

Fred was a total romantic. Lee was very lucky to have him, just listening as Fred talks about Lee like he was... so precious made him realize something. He barely knew anything abot Fred. Fred was the last person he'd think of as a total romantic, Ron always thought it'd be Charlie-- but seeing as he isn't interested in relationships...

"You're absolutely smitten with him." Ron chuckled.

"I know. He's just... so perfect." Fred breathed.

"You know, he's been sliding notes in my books too. Apologizing." Ron hissed. "When he passed by me in the halls today, i realized he had the same smell in my Amortentia. I was so frustrated." He confessed, Ron knows that Fred already has an idea on who it may be, or already knows.

Fred smiled, "It's Blaise Zabini, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Ron said in a soft voice. Fred didn't seem angry when he said it, which relieved him.

The mere mention of Blaise Zabini frustrates him. There hasn't been anyone else who's confused him so much in just weeks. Ron hated how vulnerable he felt around him, his heart skipping beats, and his smiles.

Fred made him realize a lot. Although Ron doesn't fully understand yet, he's getting closer to it.

Chapter Text

1976 SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM, HOGWARTS.

"I'm just planning on drinking 'til i can't anymore." Regulus said, downing a shot. They were in one of the balconies of the common room, the harsh night breeze making Severus shiver.

The loud music was fading into the background, and people from all four houses partied heavily. Severus and Regulus wanted to avoid the common room as much as they could, the entire room smelled like cigarettes and wine, plus people making out from all corners. Severus does not know what spell they used, but Black used a charm to make their voices louder, as they sang David Bowie songs.

Perhaps the graduation blues got to Regulus better than it did to him. To be honest, he was quite happy to be graduating, not like his experiences in Hogwarts were all sunshines and rainbows. Being in Slytherin was a struggle, Severus remembers his sorting-- when the hat yelled out 'Slytherin' the great hall fell silent. Only the ones from his house applauded, it wasn't a new experience for Severus back then, he was used to being left out often.

James Potter and his group made things even worse. Severus has tried all that he can to just ignore them, but when they throw insults after insults towards him everyday, it was hard. Yes, he was aware his hair was greasy, and yes, he is a Slytherin. Sometimes, really, Severus can't help but feel betrayed when he first knew about Potter and Lily's relationship. The same Potter who made his life in Hogwarts hell, and his Lily, who fought for him, but got with him the moment they fell apart.

Severus sighed. "Regulus, you aren't even graduating yet." He was a year below him, but he insisted on sneaking inside and getting drunk, not that the others really cared about underage drinking.

"I know." He grunted. "Just... sad, you aren't going to be here next year." Regulus wasn't usually sappy, but Severus knows it's because of him graduating, and a certain Gryffindor couple. He could not believe it either when Regulus first told him.

"I'm betting some people are happy i'll be gone from school." Severus huffed, lighting a cigarette. He didn't usually smoke. Only did so to let off some steam. His dark mark only burned more, a reminder of what he is. But nevertheless, he felt like he had a bit of power with the tattoo resting on his forearm.

Regulus chuckled. "Can't deny it. Evan's heard a lot. You know how he and Barty is, they know everything-- and so does 'Dora." It's good that Evan and Barty were in Regulus's year, so he probably won't be too lonely. It's too bad Lovegood's graduating alongside him. "It's all because we wear green and silver."

"Mhm." Severus agreed, "And with the dark lord rising in the ranks..." It was not going to be peaceful for a very long time. Well, if one possessed sinple common sense, then they'd know that a war was approaching--fast.

Late night talks with Regulus really helped him mentally. They were both marked the moment they turned sixteen, Regulus joined because of his family, and he craved power. And there was nothing that could make him regret his decision. He was satisfied with what he had.

"D'ya think we can meet up after you graduate?" They would be seeing each other at the death eater meetings, but those meetings aren't really for fun and making friends. Those meetings were stressful, the struggle of keeping your thoughts locked away in fear of the dark lord reading them. 

"I would visit Grimmauld, but your mother's probably going to throw me out. Can't have a 'filthy half-blood' near her doorstep." He teased, Walburga Black ruled her family with an Iron fist, and she was known for her deep hatred against muggles and half bloods. Severus only imagined her reaction to him, a half blood. The insults that would be hurled at him, and the screams.

Regulus sighed, "She would. You and 'Dora. Should've seen the moment she kicked Sirius out of Grimmauld Place for his opinions about blood and muggles." Yeah, an infamous shit-show. It started within the pureblood circles, that the heir to the house of Black had been thrown out, and naturally-- Regulus was now the heir. And that was exactly what made Regulus decide in being a death eater. He wanted power.

"Fitting. I hate him." Severus said, "I can't wait to be free of their faces." He scowled, and Regulus pat his back soothingly.

"He may not be a blood supremacist, but he's still a terrible person, like the rest of the family." Regulus chuckled, a little bittersweet. Severus knows that there is no disregarding your own blood, like how the house of Prince-- his mother, haunts him. "He abandoned me just like that."

Severus stayed silent. Ever since meeting Regulus, he knew how close the two were, and when Black left him alone in Grimmauld, Regulus sort of felt... betrayed. And Black hates Regulus even more for turning to the dark lord. 

"Enough about me." Regulus said, after a few minutes of plain, comfortable silence. "How's your little wolf?" Severus flinched.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves at the sudden mention of him. "We're done, we have been-- for a while now." He didn't feel as happy when he said it, and truth be told, that man still invaded his dreams every night.

"Sev." Regulus quietly spoke. The quiet slip of the nickname was rare. "Are you okay? With that, i mean."

"I don't know." He replied, "He's a coward, Reg. Remus would never choose me over them."

Regulus huffed, taking another sip of his whiskey. "Good. You don't need a man that won't burn the world for you." He chuckled. "I'm just teasin', but you still like him, don't you?" It was said in a quiet, but knowing tone. Regulus knew everything, since he was the one who set up Barty and Rosier.

"Yeah, and it's so  annoying." He chortled. "He just stays silent when i'm being ridiculed by Potter and his cronies, it hurts." Severus was at first hesitant to admit his homosexuality to Regulus, since the man came from a conservative family, but shockingly, Regulus was the same. Plus, being an heir and being expected to provide an heir, he had a tough situation.

Remus Lupin. Severus never imagined falling for a marauder, and the wolf who almost killed him, at that. Severus understood that it was all Black's doing, but it was still frightening to see a tall werewolf with the sharpest claws and fangs running at him with full speed.

"Hmm." Regulus hummed. "What do you plan to do after graduation?" Thank merlin for the sudden change in topic, he didn't know how long he'd last talking about Lupin. 

"Maybe open my own Apothecary." Severus replied, crossing his arms on the balcony. Besides, he's always wanted a position where he would have an endless supply for potions, it's like a dream come true.

"That's great. Not sure about me, though. I think i'll drink my days away using my family's generations worth of fortune."

Severus snorted. "Don't be ridiculous." Regulus was skilled in many things, art being one of them. Severus remembers the painting and sculptures of greek goddesses and gods in his dormitory.

"At least you have dreams, i can never do that in my household."

Severus bolts awake, chest heavy and panting. Crumpled under his folded arms were his students essays, how did he fall asleep? With a silenced groan, he remembered he needed to brew Lupin's wolfsbane.

He missed Regulus everyday, but he's been pushing many of their memories aside, and that dream-- he can only fear if the dark lord saw it. He pushed his fingers past his greasy hair, at this point, Severus had given up using spells on his hair. The grease from the potions made his hair crazy.

Severus rose from his desk and got started on the wolfsbane. It wasn't like he had any classes for another hour or two. Even though Lupin was gone from Hogwarts, Albus still ordered him to make the wolfsbane for Lupin. Merlin, just thinking about his name and his face made his chest tighten.

He was no longer a teenager, he needed to bury these silly feelings in the past. He outed Lupin's status as a werewolf to get him out of Hogwarts and cut all association with him, but Albus... merlin. Though, Severus would be lying if he said he did not have any spiteful feelings with Lupin living with Black in Grimmauld place. Regulus was right, he was never fully over him. Perhaps it was the hate, how cowardly the wolf was, and still is.

He dropped the chopped up ingredients in the cauldron and stared. Maybe he was still drowsy, which is why these silly memories were coming back to him once more.

Ron can't stop thinking about his conversation with Fred. He liked that he felt as if they grew closer with that interaction alone, and it helped him so many things. Most were things that he feared, talking about his feelings, and taking an unexpected fancy to a snake.

But, what exactly did-- 'Make him change' mean? Ron wasn't even a hundred-percent sure that Zabini liked him, and if his own feelings were just a silly crush or-- or love. The mere word made his cheeks heat up. Why did it have to be a Slytherin, of all people? He wanted to bash his own head against a wall and forget everything.

And, he was afraid his mother would somehow know. He can only imagine the argument, the howlers... everything. He had been quite freaked out when he first received a howler during second year.

"Straighten your back." Right. He was out getting his robes ready for the Yule ball. Ron was originally going to wear the... ugly second-hand dress robes his mother sent. She wrote in the attached letter that a shop was on sale. but Harry offered to pay for he and Hermione's new, tailored robes. Considering that Harry's family is very rich, Ron declined, but Harry insisted.

And Harry secretly took him to buy a new wand in Diagon Alley the summer after second year. Ron used and probably still envies Harry for having money--the very thing he wants the most--but he liked that Harry thought of him in moments like that. It just added more to Harry's list of good deeds, as if being the wizarding world savior wasn't enough.

The dressmaker--Madam Malkin-- took his measurements, and Hermione's. She was talking about a book earlier, but stopped when Ron didn't show much interest. Instead, they stood in comfy silence with Hermione humming pop songs from the muggles. Ron doesn't know what 'Last Friday Night' is, but it sounds nice-- probably something Charlie would listen to over the radio, and then they would all be sick of him repeating it over and over again.

Ron liked books, but books about Arithmancy and potions? A big no. He could listen to books about runes, maybe. But Arithmancy was not for him.

"Measurements are done, now let's discuss the design." Ron stretched his arms and yawned. The line to the dressmaker's shop was impossibly long yesterday, so they prompted to wake up very early the next day. Even then, the queue was quite long. There were many wisards and witches waiting to be fitted for their dresses and robes.

Hermione nudged his shoulder, and Ron smiled nervously. He took out two folded pieces of parchment paper and handed it over. The dressmaker lifted her glasses as she assessed the paper.

"These are interesting, did you design it yourself?" She turned to Ron, and he nodded. Hermione suggested that they design their own outfits, but Hermione admitted that she wasn't very good in that department. Besides, sketching and drawing was fun, like he could express all of this thoughts through pencil lead and colors.

"What color would your robes be?" Madam Malkin questioned after a brief pause, she folded the paper of designs and put it in a drawer, then she took out her book to write down information.

Hermione turned to Ron.

"Black, please." He said, ignoring the eyebrow raise from Hermione. Though, she went on ahead and ordered periwinkle blue for her dress. It was a pleasing color to the eye, and Ron knew Hermione had the ability to pull off any color.

Perhaps Ginny would also show up in a periwinkle blue dress, it would be quite cute to see them match. Speaking of Ginny, she was probably going to the ball with Dean, since they both needed dates. Maybe they would just ignore the rumors floating around them, considering their history.

And Neville was apparently going to the ball with a Ravenclaw in the year below. Ron doesn't know who the girl is, but he's certain she's nice. All this talk about dates and the ball had him nervous, he's overheard a rumor that Zabini was to go with Daphne Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass was stunning, with wavy blonde hair and piercing green eyes.

Maybe Zabini wasn't into blokes at all.

That thought made him feel unnerved, if Zabini caught word of his supposed fancy to him, would he broadcast it to the entire school and humiliate him? Ron was afraid that might be the case, Slytherins are... and then he remembered what Fred said about being prejudiced. He shut his mind up.

Purebloods like Zabini... they were all about heirs and blood purity. All the things Ron was not about, it just highlighted their vast differences, they could never be similar in any way. Ron tried his best to distract himself, by inserting himself more in conversation with Hermione and Madam Malkinc anything to put his mind off of Zabini.

Before they left, Ron pulled Madam Malkin aside and whispered about a certain detail in his dress robes that he wanted.

"Blaise, Blaise!" That certainly pulled him out of his trance. Pansy's hand quickly grabbed on his shoulder, and Blaise turned around.

It has already beein a few days since their argument, and the longer Blaise stared, he could see Pansy looking much worse each day. The dark circles under her eyes worsened, her lips looking chapped from biting them, he supposes, and her eyes that looked tired constantly. To be honest, Blaise has half-forgiven her already.

Don't get him wrong, he was still furious about her betraying him like that, but Blaise knows Pansy, she often cannot control what words leave her mouth when she is irritated. And looking as Draco hasn't spread it around Hogwarts yet, he might be too angry to speak or has accepted. Blaise hopes for the latter, since Draco has been flirting with the boy-who-lived anyways. It would be hypocritical to not accept it.

Blaise stared into Pansy's eyes. "Are you here to apologize?" He asked calmly, a hand pinching his robes.

"Yeah." And Blaise gestured for her to continue speaking. "I am such a terrible friend for betraying your trust and screaming your secret out to Draco, i was jusy really angry at him for pestering me and let it slide. I know i've done such a terrible thing to you, I don't deserve forgiveness-- but i am sorry." She started talking at an incredibly fast pace that even Blaise struggled partially to understand her words-- and also, Pansy had her head hung low.

Blaise sighed, his mother warned him not to be too soft on his friends, she taught him how to monopolize them for power, keep on a facade and make connections for the family. But Blaise... as much as he loved his mother, did not wish to be like her. All of mother's friends always seemed to be cautious of her, waiting for her to strike.

He did not want the same with his friends. He wanted to be his own person, one he chose to become.

"I... accept your apology." Blaise said quietly, almost too silent for Pansy to hear, thought somehow, she still heard it. However, before she could utter a word, Blaise parted his lips to speak once more. "I'm still mad that you outed me like that. One, for liking Weasley, and two, that i like blokes. I have also said some unpleasant words during that day, and i regret it, but just like you, i was angry."

Pansy looked shameful in an instant, "I'm sorry."

"I know." Blaise whispered. "But, you are dear to me Pansy. I don't want to push you away anymore, i'm friends with you not because of our family, but because you were the first to be genuinely interested in me back then in the train. It meant a lot to me, since others were too scared to approach the son of the 'Black Widow'."

Blaise remembers his first encounter with Pansy and Draco. He recalled feelings lonely in his own cart, people not wanting to be with him because of his mother's reputation. Then came two children of his age, one was a shorter girl with bright almond eyes and short black hair. The other was a boy with light blonde hair, a scowl on his face, and stunning grey eyes.

And in instant, Pansy's eyes dwelled with tears. Blaise held his arms open and she ran into them and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry. I really don't deserve you." She uttered, sniffling.

Blaise said nothing, merely hugging his best friend back. Pansy understood him in a way no one else did, not Draco, not anyone. Perhaps it was their close bond that their engagement was formed in the first place, it was a pity they did not know Pansy swung the other way, and so did he.

And at the corner of his eye, in the middle of staying in silence in the halls with a sentimental Pansy, Blaise spotted a brush of familiar blonde hair behind the wall to the halls.

"Draco, i can see you." Blaise deadpanned, he heard a silent curse before Draco hesitantly stepped out of hiding and looked at them. "What is it?" Pansy halted her tears for a moment and looked back, her eye twitched when she saw Draco. Well of course, there must be some tension between them.

Draco looked reluctant for a moment, before blurting out. "I accept your feelings!" And suddenly, Pansy burst out laughing.

Blaise blinked at Draco's tall figure in the middle of the halls, face flushed. "I apologize, you aren't my type." And it was only when Blaise said those words that Draco realized what he just said.

"I-I meant i accept your feelings for-- for you know!" He hissed, grumbling to himself. Draco ruffled the front of his hair messily and looked away with a grimace. "I thought about what you told me that day, that i expected to know everything. I sent my mother a letter asking for advice, and she opened my eyes. I know i was wrong now, shouldn't have called him a 'blood traitor.'" He murmured, and if he shared one trait with Pansy, it was their talking speed. Blaise also had to force himself to understand his fast-paced words.

"It's alright," Blaise said, helping Pansy up after she absolutely lost it on the ground, then opened his arms. "Now, come here." And Draco did, hugging Blaise and muttering apologies, with promises to never pull anything like that again.

After returning to their common room and into their dorm rooms (Pansy snuck in theirs again) they had a long talk about their feelings, which was refreshing--and something Blaise didn't know he needed.

Harry had his wrist on his chin while pretending to listen to Snape's lecture, it was really boring--and he would have fallen asleep a long time ago if it werent for Snape's piercing glare and the sudden rise of volume in his tone. Hermione and Ron sat with him, as usual. Hermione was attentive, taking down notes with her quill. Ron was... spacing out, a little odd.

It's been a hectic year. First, he has that awful nightmare that night in the Burrow, the night after the game, Winky, the goblet of fire drawing his name, and now his relationship.

Draco Malfoy wasn't his first choice in partners, or whatever they are--they never labeled it. Was he getting abead of himself? Anyways, Luna whispered something about Slytherins being easily jealous and possessive of their lovers.  And Harry reckons Malfoy was unhappy with his talks with Cedric.

He just wanted to make sure Cedric was safe, and mostly because if the guilt Harry feels for somewhat stealing Cedric's spotlight as a champion. Fleur and Viktor have been nothing but great, after the first task ended--which was horrific, by the way--they had gotten their second clue for the next task. It was an egg that had ear-piercing screeches, but Viktor recently found out that it was a song, when held underwater.

The egg said 'to reclaim something valuable under the lake', and Harry thinks--could it be treasure? Ones as old as the Hogwarts founders, maybe. Viktor made a comment about it possibly being a person dear to them, but Harry doesn't think so. After all, which insane adults would willingly use children as bait for the task?

When class ended, Harry grabbed his books and walked with Ron. As Hermione had Arithmancy next. Ron seemed a little off today, fidgety--more so than before--there was something clearly wrong with him. Could he be worried about the ball? That he doesn't have an actual date, and is taking his best friend slash sister's girlfriend to the ball. Well, Harry was fine with Susan. She didn't actually like him, Susan had eyes for someone else, and accepted his invite to the ball to make said someone jealous.

Harry would be wearing a mostly black one, his dress robes had a hint of green, that was the same shade as his eyes as designs. Susan insisted they complimented him, plus he trusted her fashion instinct.

He and Ron split ways after he spotted a familiar figure in a corner. He would ask Ron about his off-put behavior later, but now? He needed to attend to something.

Harry crept away, and once he was near the corner, a hand grabs the back of his robes and pulls him aside. When he had eye-contact with the person, he almost laughed. Ha. He fucking knew it.

"Malfoy." Harry spoke, low and cheeky. "What do you think others will say when they see us?" He says knowingly, and Malfoy's reputation was something he treasured the most, being seen with him... wouldn't do it any good.

Malfoy's cheeks were tinged with a slight pink flush. "I just wanted to talk." He whispered, a slight quiver in his voice.

"Well? Spit it out." Harry urged, would it be a shitty apology? What they had lasted nothing more than two weeks, and he knew Malfoy was too ashamed to be with him, hence the secrecy. "If you're going to apologize, don't make it half-assed, at the very least."

"I know that now." Malfoy replied, nervous. "I shouldn't have assumed that you and Diggory had something together over a mere conversation, and i shouldn't have reacted like i did." He breathed, chest slightly heaving. "And... i'm not embarrassed of you."

Harry was taken aback at the last part, then why? "Then why did you act so nice to me in private, only to insult me and my friends in public?" He snarled back, ignoring his heart going feral. "I don't want to be with someone like that."

Malfoy flinched, his hand moved to Harry's shoulder, only to freeze and retract it. "It was because of my father, Potter." He said silently, "If he found out about.... us, then he would have-- told me to stay away from you. I don't want to be away from you, the day you rejected my hand at Madam Malkin's, you are all i have thought about. It was always 'Potter this' and 'Potter That'. It was only until i found out from my Godfather that i probably had feelings.. for--for you. I thought it was impossible for me to like boys, since i was supposed to be my family's heir and get married and have kids. But i could care less about that anymore." Malfoy said in shaky breaths, for a moment, Harry stood there and stared up at the other, his green eyes met grey ones-- before Malfoy held his hands, they were cold, and soft.

"So. can you please forgive me, Harry?" Malfoy brought his hands to his mouth, Harry's fingers brushed against his skin, they were hot and his face was red. Malfoy stared at his knuckles, brushed them with his thumbs before leaning in and kissing them gently. "I'll do whatever you wish, if you want to go public, then we'll do it. Just-- please, stay with me, hopefully until we graduate."

Now, see. Malfoy always had this cocky tone engraved in his throat when he spoke, his smile was overproud, he sneered at him  a lot-- too many to count-- and Malfoy... the Malfoy in front of him at the moment lacked that cocky tone, overproud smile, and casual sneer. It was how Harry could tell that he was being sincere, for once-- to him.

Harry's breaths came in quick, his chest heaved heavily, Malfoy's fingers pinned a stray piece of his hair behind his ear. Harry shivered, before, all they did was flirt a little and send each other notes-- they never directly held each other like this. Soon, Harry found himself blushing.

"Malfoy--"

"Draco." The other sternly corrected.

Harry sighed, "Draco... you better stay true to your words." Harry said. "You can't take them back anymore." He warned. "'Cause i like you, a lot. I'm not perfect, i'm not a girl, your parents hate me. All i can offer you is myself."

"I know." Mal--Draco replied instantly. "I should be the one saying that, you know? Haven't you heard? Slytherins tend to be possessive of their lovers, if you say yes right now, you aren't getting rid of me anymore."

Harry grinned. "Yes, Draco. I accept your confession, your apology..." and for the first time in weeks, Harry saw Malfoy smile--not cocky--but one full of emotions, Draco pulled him into a hug, being careful not to squish him.

"I love you." Draco whispered in his ear, making Harry flush.

Harry brought him closer. "I love you, too." He responded, pressing his lips against Draco's cheek-- he almost burst in laughter when the other actually squeaked when he did.

The Yule ball was in two days, just before the second Triwizard trial. Ron has never felt so nervous before. Just a few days after he and Hermione ordered the dress robes, it arrived. And it was perfect.

Hermione looked beyond satisfied with her dress, it made her look like a princess straight out of a fairytale. She said it sort of made her look like 'Cinderella' who was apparently a princess from a muggle fairytale.

And once Hermione left to let him try out his own dress robes, Ron carefully took out the dress robes, the fabric was soft against his hand-- he carefully unfolded it and stared.

He grinned, it was perfect.

Chapter Text

"Stay still!" Lavender lightly scolded, Ron lazily obliged. The amount of etiquette classes they were forced to do in order to attend the ball kept him up all night, silently freaking out about the ball. He was going to be dancing with Hermione, ugh--what if there were rumors? Then he remembered--Ginny would probably shove their heads down a bucket of water.

Nothing to worry about.

There was a lot to worry about, actually. Ron's robes were laid evenly on Lavender's bed, no matter how much he wore it and admired himself in them, he never got tired. The material was soft, it was unlike his other robes--god bless for Harry--speaking of his best friend, he finally made up with Malfoy. Not that Ron was glad he needed to be civil with that piece of junk, but at least the whole 'flirting' hijinks could finally stop. If it went on longer, Rita Skeeter would definitely have written about it. Though she didn't--it was Hermione instead, in the article.

Which baffled all four of them--including Ginny--Rita Skeeter kept getting her gossip where? Ron swear that woman had some sort of connection to a Hogwarts personnel. Because then, how did she know these?

Lavender held his chin still, she insisted on putting a bit of makeup on him--after Ron mentioned he wanted to look handsome, beautiful today. She immediately whipped out her makeup bag and practically glued him to her chair. Ron hasn't seen what shes done to his face yet, but he trusts her. She was holding a thin, long tube--

"What is that?" He asked, was that a ballpen? Like the one Harry used in the Muggle world?

Lavender barely looked at him, "Eyeliner." She answered, pulling the cap open and setting it aside. "Close your eyes." Ron obliged. The eyeliner was sliding down his eyelids smoothly, Lavender seemed to take extra care on this rather than the other makeup products she used on him. He often heard Ginny complain about smudging her eyeliner, must be why.

Ron knew nothing about make-up, despite being....well--

It went on for a few more minutes, comfortable silence--small talk here and there. Lavender's dorm room was peaceful. Lavender applied something on his lips, before shoving a mirror on his hands. "Take a look!" She cheerily said.

Ron opened his eyes and almost didn't recognize himself. It was only light makeup, much lighter conpared to the girl's makeup for the ball. Yet, he felt so different, much more confident, actually. The eyeliner was a sparkly gold, it went up the side of his eyes. His lashes were curled, and his lips were a little pink. Ron grinned, fingers carefully roaming around his face.

"You are my savior, Lavender." He exhaled, he looked amazing. "Just so you know, I can keep your date busy so you can have some time with Parvati." He winked knowingly, watching as Lavender chuckled with a slight red tinge on her cheeks.

"I'd appreciate it." She retorted, "Now, get into your robes! I want to see how you look in them." Lavender grinned, pulling him yo from his seat and ushering him towards his dress robes.

Ron smiled warmly while taking in the sight of his new dress robes once more. It was precious to him, the first, finest piece of clothing he has ever owned in fourteen years. "Alright, i'll do a little twirl if I have to." He joked. He picked up his robes like it was made of gold--which, for him, was indeed made of the rarest gold.

He made sure he was completely alone before stripping down to nothing, Ron has never really liked changing when anybody else was around--which is why he always changed last after quidditch practice or matched.

After a few minutes of throwing his original clothes off and wearing his dress robes, he peaked from behind the bathroom door and saw Lavender with an anticipatory glint in her eyes. "How do I look?" He actually twirled for Lavender.

"Spectacular! No Witch--or Wizard will be able to keep their eyes off you!" Ron wanted to call out her bluff, but was too giddy to do so.

Blaise was used to parties, as a pureblood, he grew up following his mother around in her pureblood gatherings. He always had to interact with sect heirs and their sisters, to establish connections. Greeting people and walking around was engraved in his mind.

He wore one of his finest robes tonight. He was wearing dark red with black and silver linings. Daphne already showed him her outfit, which was also a dark red color, it was a tight fitting bodice with a flowy skirt, It was an off-shoulder one. Pansy came into the room earlier and couldn't stop staring at her.

For some reason, he was wondering what Weasley would be wearing tonight. He expected a second-hand outfit, after all, there was a loud crowd at Gryffindor table a few days ago. Weasley's mother sent him second-hand robes that looked like it wss owned by a grandmother. Draco laughed about it, Blaise didn't find it funny. Draco was laughing, because of the Weasley's being renowned blood-traitors, and mostly because he was jealous. Weasley looked both furious and embarrassed, to the point he almost stormed off to the bathroom with his friends following after him.

He didn't expect much from the Yule Ball. It was just another formal event for him, just another to add to his list. "Are you ready?" Blaise asked Daphne, who started putting away her makeup bag. "Pansy's waiting."

Daphne blushed, "Yeah, i'm good to go." She replied, doing one last check in the mirror. "Have you heard about your little lover-boy, lately?"

"Who?" Blaise asked, despite knowing who she meant. Daphne rolled her eyes and stared at him with an 'are you serious?' Look. "Okay, fine. No, I have not heard anything from him after the thing at breakfast a few days ago."

The girl sighed, nudging Blaise's chest. "Word has been spreading, he's going to the ball with Granger." The mere mention of that muggleborns name made his nose involuntary scrunch. "Theo saw them at Madam Malkin's. Together."

"What do you want me to do about that?" Blaise retorted after a few seconds of silence. "I can't control who he goes out with." Blaise shrugged, combing his hair, which was starting to grow out. He ignored the way his heart tightened at the thought of seeing those two together.

Daphne huffed, crossing her arms. "Hey. You should be more...'dunno, possessive over him. I thought you liked him?" She lightly scolded, flicking Blaise forehead.

Blaise grumbled, patting his forehead. "It's not my problem. What if word gets out, i'm going to be an outcast until i'm an old man."

"Who cares!" Daphne said, "I knew you were the type to care about reputation more than love, but..Whatever, I can't force you to do anything you don't want to." Daphne sulked. "Let's go." She grumbled, thrusting her hand towards Blaise. He took it with a sigh.

He really shouldn't have told anyone.

Well, there was no use regretting it now. The ball was in an hour or so. Pansy and Draco were all dressed up hours ago, since those two took an equally long amount of time to get ready, they started getting ready around seven hours before. It baffled him, they finished after four hours. Blaise took one last look at his outfit in the mirror, disgustingly, but a very fancy red. 

Blaise fought the urge to slam his own forehead against a wall, for no reason at all. 

Ron took very careful steps down the stairs of Lavender's room, these shoes felt weird--they were new, in courtesy of Harry, once more-- he felt like a stranger in these clothes, the clothes he felt normal with were the hand-me-downs of his brothers. The feeling of loose fabric, holes that were just sewed back on, and the color washing off. He fought back the smile threatening to appear on his lips, what would he have done without Harry?

Perhaps, he would have been utterly humiliated after being forced to wear those grandmother robes his mother sent. He felt so ashamed after he had to open it in front of so many people, he bet the others expected him to show up in those.

He couldn't blame them, after wearing hand-me-down clothes for his whole entire life, it's also what he would have expected. The robes actually fit him, for once. Merlin, he can't wait to get his own money.

"Ronniekins!" The nickname made him roll his eyes. Ron held on to the railings and stared downstairs, where his older twin brothers were waving at him enthusiastically, George was wearing a simple black suit, while Fred's was the same, esceot he wore a brown vest.

Ron waved at them back, "Where are your dates?" He asked, once he finally got down the stairs. "Does George even have one?" He turned to Fred.

"Alicia is still doing her hair," Fred replied, pointing his thumb at George. "Angelina is taking photos with the girls."

So, George asked out Alicia. "Fair enough, 'Mione is still with Ginny." Ron snorted. "Ginny won't let her go without...kisses." His nose scrunched as he went on.

George chuckled, "Classic Ginny. She's a little possessive over Granger, I think she would've hexed Dumbledore for the date rules." Well yeah, It was a little ridiculous. Ron himself has heard that Dumbledore was gay in his prime. "Harry got you those robes?"

"Mhm." He nodded. "Insisted on paying for new ones...Thank merlin, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing mum's grandma robes." Ron mumbled, shivering when he recalled it.

"Bill and Charlie sent us some money for some decent robes." Fred chimed in. "Mum was against it, she said she already gave us dress robes...if we can even call 'em that... anyways, Bill and Charlie sent money for you as well. I'll give you the envelope later."

"Thanks." Ron grinned. "What about Percy? Still no word?" He questioned, seeing the way his brothers shuffled uncomfortably.

Percy did have a dramatic exit back then, when he turned his back on them. But Ron knows it isn't entirely true. He's seen the way his mother reacts to Percy, and frankly, everyone thought he had a stick up his arse. "Nope." George retorted. "Why are you asking?" 

"Nothing, just blurted it out." Ron pursed his lips. It was then that they heard the sound of heels clinking on he staircase, well that saved him from an uncomfortable moment. "It's Hermione." Ron smiled.

"Is that really her?" Fred suddenly said. "She looks so different!" He whisper-yelled to his twin brother, who nodded in agreement.

Hermione was in her periwinkle blue dress, it fit her perfectly. her hair was tied up in a half bun, and shockingly, her frizzy hair was was gone. It was like an entirely new person had taken over his best friend's body. She had on makeup, which was extremely rare. Hermione turned into a different person overnight, this must be why Ginny wouldn't let her leave.

"Ron!" Hermione called out, running down the stairs in heels. "Didn't know you were done already--oh my god, who did your makeup? It looks delightful!" She said excitedly, staring at Ron's face and analyzing it.

Ron scratched the back on his head, embarrassment creeping into his face. "Lavender. Does it look okay? Is it too much?" He asked, holding her hands.

"Nope. It is perfect." Hermione smiled. "Now, I know Zabini won't keep his eyes off you the entire night." Ron returned her smile, but froze once he processed her words. How did she--

"Wh--What do you mean?" Ron said nervously, "I have no idea what you're talking about." He prolonged the 'no', feeling sweat start to form on his forehead. Did Fred start spreading it around? He hoped not. Right now, he was silently praying that Hermione was somehow mistaken.

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Seriously, Ronald? You should know by now that I am far from stupid." She flicked her hair away. "I saw him..at the library."

Okay, now he was really confused. "Library?" The only time they met at the library was when they werenin a secluded corner, there was no way Hermione heard anything. "I'm not really following."

"...Oh, you don't know?" Hermione paused, lips opening and closing. "Uhm, okay! Other than that, I just always see him staring at you--that has got to be a sign."

Ron wanted to ask what Hermione meant by 'you don't know', what did he not know? Did he and Zabini meet at the library, just for him to obliviate him?! No--that sounded ridiculous. There was no gaps in his memory...as far as he's concerned. "Wh--" Not even a word in, Hermione cut him off, screamed a quick 'goodbye' to the twins and dragged him to the great hall.

Weird.

He let himself be dragged along. He couldn't get Hermione's words out of his mind, what didn't he know?

Blaise let himself relax slightly when they arrived at the great hall, there was barely any people, with still maybe half an hour on the clock. Daphne excused herself to go chat with Pansy, leaving him alone.

He was in a small corner, sipping some punch. Draco was out, probably in the garden--following his boyfriend around. Eugh, was Draco really dating Saint Potter, now? If word gets out to his father...

Blaise shook his head, nope, he can't let any negative thoughts in. As childish as it sounded, he was supposed to be having a good time today--as Pansy said--but this wasn't really fun. Formal gatherings were the opposite of enjoyable, always having to watch your expression and keeping a smile the entire time.

By now, more and more couples were starting to arrive. The hall was starting to get full little by little. For some reason, Bliae found himself looking for someone, every time the door opened, Blaise looked for red hair--which was odd.

He cringed internally at himself, what was he expecting? He put his glass down after a few more rounds of fruit punch. Daphne and Pansy were back from their walk from the garden, they were sitting in a table, hand in hand. Would it seem like he was a bad friend if he admitted he was a tiny bit jealous?

Not that he romantically loved Daphne or Pansy, they were his best friends. But instead, it was the idea of romance on its own. He was still young, only fourteen, almost fifteen. But there were many people his age already in relationships. It made him feel lonely, somewhat. He was aware of his own reputation, 'cold, enigmatic, and very-slytherin.' He huffed.

"Hey, you good?" Pansy tapped on his shoulder. "Daph' and I have been calling your name." She murmured, sipping from glass of water.

"Just a bit lost in thought." Blaise decided as a reply. "Did you need me?" He swiftly changed the subject, nothing good came out of a situation if Pansy got too nosey, anyways.

Daphne hummed beside Pansy. "So...we heard a little something about your man."

"My...What?" Blaise deadpanned, were they referring to--he pinched himself, he has got to stop thinking about him. "What about it?"

Daphne looked around to her sides, she was acting like she was about to drop a national secret. Once she deemed the coast clear, Daphne stepped closer and went near his ear. "Goyle said he saw Weasley earlier. And according to him, he couldn't keep his eyes off of him."

Blaise raised a brow, Goyle? "What do you mean?" He leaned in closer, while Pansy yawned. "In..a bad way, or?"

"Obviously, in a good way." Daphne grimaced at his response. "Do you only think down on him?" Daphne's response made his mouth glue shut, he hated it when she was right.

"Well, in a good way." She flicked a stray strand of her hair away. "Bulstrode said he looked like a snack." Blaise frowned, was Milliscent interested in Weasley all of a sudden?

Blaise took some time to think--to imagine. How could Weasley have fixed his dress robes after just a few days? It was tattered and ugly, was Daphne sure of what she heard? He paused, he can't be thinking like this. Daphne was right, he always expected the worse from Weasley...and that couldn't be good.

"Okay... where--where is he, right now?" The last part was said in a rush, to the point where Pansy, who seemed to not be listening was suddenly all ears for their conversation. "Stop staring at me like that." Blaise blushed, noticing the way Daphne grinned knowingly at him. Was it an issue to want to see Weasley right now?

But he had a date--Blaise freaked out internally. Weasley was probably the straightest person ever, why did he think he'd ever be interested in men? Even the Wizarding world was not fond of relationships as such, considering their concern for..heirs. Every day, he got the feeling that an arranged marriage was coming in soon.

"Why are you panicking, dear Blaise?" Draco smiled, appearing from behind Daphne. The sudden chime of his voice made her flinch in shock, "I've actually seen his outfit already, he was with Harry. And..I must say, you will be very, very pleased." Draco winked.

Blaise's eye twitched, were the sole purpose of his friends' lives bullying ihim in the most annoying ways possible? Damn it, not he wanted to see. "Buzz off, Dray." Blaise smirked, knowing how much the other despised that nickname.

"Never. Call. Me. That. Again." Draco said, visible disgusted. "That nickname, I fucking detest it."

"How's your Gryffindor?" Pansy held Draco's shoulders, and lifted herself up with a silly expression. "You know, I was so relieved you two made up, the tension was getting too thick to ignore."

Daphne sighed, "Right? I could feel the glares and stares from miles away." She glanced at Draco, seemingly recalling an unpleasant memory.

"You lot are dramatic." Draco rolled his eyes, "It was not that bad."

"Might I remind you... that you almost had a nervous breakdown because you thought he and Weasley were dating?" Blaise added, yawning. "You were..quite literally on the verge of tears."

Draco's face turned embarrassingly red, tugging his expensive green dress robes as a way to distract himself. "That never happened." He insisted.

"Oh, really?" Pansy chuckled, "I have an audio recording--"

"Stop!" Draco suddenly blurted out. "I hahe dignity and a reputation to uphold, don't you dare." He glared at Pansy, who stuck her tongue out playfully.

"Hey, the teachers are here, theres going to be entrances, dumbasses." They were all cut off by Nott's voice, "Get behind the doors."

Pansy smiled, "Thanks for the warning, Theo!"

Blaise felt confident about entering the great hall, they were up next. He and Daphne hooked their arms together, preparing to make their entrance.

"Nervous?" Daphne suddenly asked, staring up at him with a small curve of her lips. "You're shaking." She whispered, only then did Blaise notice.

"Jitters." He said, "Nothing much." To be honest, he always felt his body tremble every time before a gathering, or party. It was like preparing to face the creepy old men at the gatherings who do nothing but talk. "You?"

Daphne hummed, "I'm okay, not too much. Just nervous about walking down in front of so many people. I don't like so many eyes to be on me, I start to panic if i do."

"Let's just walk faster." Blaise suggested. "Just.. be calm, as much as you can. Don't stare at the crowd, only look ahead." He said slowly, he remembers the first time his mother brought him to a party. He, too was wary of the stares.

"Thanks." Daphne said. "You're a pretty great friend, you know that?"

"I'm not sure about that." He forced out a chuckle.

Daphne didn't get to reply, the door burst open. Blaise heard her inhale deeply before they took a step forward. It was loud, far too loud for his liking. Blaise resisted the urge to wrap his hands over his ears, Daphne was shaking, thought her face was confident. This woman amazed him, a lot sometimes.

Blaise smiled at Pansy and Draco in the crowd, they went in a long time ago. It started with the champions, Potter was wearing light grey dress robes to match his partner, Bones from Hufflepuff. They looked like a good match on the outside, which was probably why Draco had such a distasteful expression earlier. Krum went with a girl from Beauxbaton, Fleur Delacoor with Roger Davies, and Diggory with Chang.

Once they finished going down the stairs, Blaise dragged Daphne to where their other friends were. "See? Wasn't so bad." Blaise grinned at Daphne, who seemed relieved to be out of the spotlight.

"Easy for you to say." She huffed, hunched over a little in an attempt to catch her breath. "I felt so anxious, merlin." Pansy supported her by staying by her side. She held Daphne in her arms, and whispering assurances. The sweetness was making him vomit.

"Hey, your little lover-boy is up there." Draco pointed at the very too of the staircase, a silhouette of red hair and a blue dress next to him--

Blaise's breath caught in his throat as he laid eyes on Ron Weasley. He was holding Granger's hand, laughing about something. His robes were made of expensive-looking silk which flowed freely in the wind, and the cherry on top?

It was Slytherin green.

It was his colors, suddenly, unwanted --or possible thoughts he hid away--came invading his mind. It was...

Blaise's mind went blank and all he could hear was Weasley's laughter, despite being so far from him. His eyes refused to turn away from the masterpiece in front of him that is called Ron Weasley. He looked so handsome in his Slytherin green robes. his arm was hooked in with Granger's-- and there was a gnawing feeling in Blaise's gut-- there was something he wanted--he wasn't sure. It was either to have Weasley all to himself or have Granger leave his side.

"You are..so gay, dude." Potter mumbled from behind him, and Blaise wasn't so distracted drooling over Potter's best friend, he might have reacted harsher, but he couldn't. Pansy held in her laughter after Potter spoke, traitor.

He felt his eyes going in all directions as Weasley smiled at the growing crowd, multiple eyes glued on his looks. He just wanted to pluck out the eyes of these people, this sight...was a national treasure.

Weasley's eyes glistened like sapphires under the candlelit chandelier, his sparkly gold eyeliner enhanced his looks even more. And his lips were pinker than Blaise recalled. The urge to hold him close only got stronger. Blaise almost flinched when they made eye contact momentarily, before he saw the brief panic in Weasley's face before he looked away.

Oh?

"Let's turn the admiring down a little, Weasley's already done walking." Draco nudged his shoulder. "You can...check him out him later."

Blaise nodded slowly. He found his eyes roaming involuntarily to find a certain-someone, thank merlin for blessing him with such beauty. "Will do."

"Talk to him." Pansy chimed in, "I think... a small conversation would make you both happy."

"Agree." Harry said, why was he here again? "You look like your moments away from whisking him away to the gardens."

The implication of Harry's words made both Blaise and Draco brush deeply. Draco was probably thinking of indecent stuff. The garden was known as a popular place for...hooking up, every corner you turn, there was always a makeout session, or something worse. Oh merlin, they were only fourteen!

But a talk...just a few words exchanged between him and Weasley sounded nice.

Chapter Text

"Ready?" Hermione voiced out from beside him, their arms were hooked together like they were an actual couple. They did look like that, it was funny, you'd never guess they were both bent and swung the other way. "You look marvelous."

Ron chuckled lightly. "I know, and I also know that Ginny won't be able to keep her eyes off of you tonight." He teased, delighting in Hermione's reddened cheeks. They've gotten even closer lately, Ron's just happy to see his best friend and only sister happy together.

"You're always talking all about me and Gin'. How about you and....?" They both knew who Hermione meant. Ron still struggled to wrap his head around the fact that Hermione knew, when he didn't tell her. He so, so badly wanted to ask about the 'library' encounter she mentioned earlier, but fought down the urge to.

Zabini would probably--definitely be dressed in his usual extragavant, expensive robes. Ron wondered what color he was wearing, would he stick to his house colors? Or go for something different? Either way, Ron knows he would look handso--and he was being weird, again. These thoughts kept invading his mind, it was embarrassing.

Someone like Zabini would never even look in his direction. But, Ron can't help but let his thought wander--the sudden realization he was into Zabini hit him like a train. The problem wasn't that Ron was into blokes, the issue was that he was into Blaise Zabini. He, himself back in first year said there wasn't a single slytherin that went dark and became death eaters.

They were a lot of examples to prove his point back then. There was Bellatrix Lestrange, who tortured the Longbottom's alongside Barty Crouch Jr. Evan Rosier, who died during the first wizarding war, and Pettigrew, who was the Potter's actual secret keeper. But, Harry was related to Salazar Slytherin and was almost sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor, if it weren't for him begging the hat not to.

Plus, the house of Zabini was neutral during the first wizarding war. There was a vast difference between pure-blood ideology and being a death eater. The Noble House of Zabini weren't death eaters, but were like every other pure-bloods.

Maybe Ron could stop thinking of every Slytherin as a death eater. It wasn't exactly nice.

"Your face is red." Hermione said, smirking. She leaned forward and stared at his face. Ron's free hand traveled to his cheeks, careful not to ruin his light makeup. His face was hot, why did he have to be born with such a thin face? "Wondering about his outfit?" She knowingly teased.

Ron rolled his eyes, grumbling. "Buzz off, 'Mione." And even if he was, wondering about his outfit, was it that big of an issue? Yes, it was.

Hermione sighed, still grinning like a madman. "Don't be too tense, you're going to look like I coerced you into being my date." She joked. Only then did Ron realize how tense his entire body was.

Hermione would be treat for many people tonight. Her usual bushy-hair was tied properly, and her dress was stunning--Ginny won't be too happy about other Wizards and Witches finding her girlfriend attractive. "More like I coerced you."

"Nonsense, we both agreed to it."

They fell into a familiar, comforting silencse after that. Harry made his entrance first, seeing as he was a champion. Susan looked marvelous in her dress, she and Harry were matching--white and black, with light yellow details. Harry's hair had to be tamed, by him--and they replaced his glasses with a spell just for the night.

If Malfoy doesn't start staring at him once he steps out of that door, Ron was going to strangle him. Harry was too good for someone like Malfoy, maybe it's because Harry was like his brother, but Ron can't help but feel protective over him. Malfoy has barely done anything for Harry, how could Harry forgive him so quickly? But at least he's acting according to Harry's wishes now.

The champions entered one-by-one, but the non-champions would enter with the others. There were various people around them. There was Neville and Lovegood, Ginny and Dean, and then his brothers with their respective dates. Everyone looked spectacular, it was the first Yule ball in years, after all. The last one was in...nineteen-seventy something.

The doors to the Great Hall pushed open, Ron kept his back straight, as he and Hermione walked forward. The sudden beam of fluorescent lights made him blink multiple times, the crowd was cheering--and embarrasingly, Ron felt a few people stare at him. Was it the new robes? The makeup? It was a little unnatural for a bloke to wear makeup, after all. But he couldn't care less. He felt confident for the first time in his life, and Ron just knew he looked eye-catching. The scene at the great hall with his mother sending him those robes, they all thought he'd show up in those.

It felt good to catch others off guard, and prove them wrong, for once.

Ron smiled, going slower on his walking pace, suddenly remembering Hermione was wearing heels. She mentioned not being used to wearing them yet, they took careful steps down. Ron held her hand, despite the fact they were both trembling like idiots.

And while they did, Ron felt his eyes wander. He was trying to convince himself he was looking for Harry, but his heart was telling him otherwise. After their little cascade down the stairs, Ron inhaled deeply.

Then he found what he was looking for, a pair of almond eyes that he only saw in passing. Zabini was so far, yet so close--Ron flushed when he saw him, dark-red robes and silver linings. It suited him, they hugged his figure slightly. Ron felt like he was staring too long, barely able to register that Zabini had locked eyes with him as well. His cheeks burned a fiery red again, Ron turned away in a panic, focusing on smiling ahead to the crowd.

It was hard trying to keep his composure. Ron was having trouble staying calm when he felt nervous, for different reasons. Finally, they made it down the staircase, and Ron could finally breathe.

"Oh, that felt amazing!" Hermione exclaimed, "I saw their jaws drop at me, at me! Oh, Gin' is calling me over, i'll see you later!" Hermione said everything in a hurry, before being dragged off by his little sister. Ron could barely register his surroundings, someone hd his shoulder--he looked up, it was Lavender.

Thank Merlin.

It was his absolute savior.

Lavender looked extragavant in her gold dress, "You rocked it up there!" She cheered, shaking his shoulders. "I told you no witch or wizard would be able to keep their eyes off of you!" Lavender chuckled. She inspected his face with a satisfied smirk, knowing she did that. 

"I give all credit to you, honestly." Ron giggled, out of breath. "You really enhanced my features with your skills, you're amazing!" He complimented, laughing along as she did.  

They exchanged good-bye's for now, as she went to her date, the formal dance was coming up. Ron went looking for wherever Hermione went, it was really crowded in the Great Hall.

Ron heard many whispers and talk as he passed through. Which teacher was dressed the best? Probably McGonagall, is what the other students said. Professor Snape wore his usual black clothes, though Ron noticed his hair was slightly more curled and less-greasy. Was he actually excited about the ball? Shocking. But now that he thinks about it, if the last Yule ball was during the nineteen-seventies, then Professor Snape experienced it too.

He found himself curious of what the Yule ball looked back then. It was an interesting thought.

Harry was too busy being hugged by Malfoy, gross. Ron pushed through the crowd, even after he's been stopped multiple times by girls--it felt surreal. He had just rejected a drink from a Hufflepuff he recognized, he waltzed forward without looking, and hit his forehead behind someone's back.

Unfortunately for him, the stranger was bigger than him, and the force sent him tumbling, though not hard enough to land arse-first on the ground.

"Sorry!" Ron exasperated, apologetic. "Wasn't really looking at my way...."  He trailed off when he saw who he bumped into. It was the eyes, the dark almond eyes he wanted to see terribly.

Zabini stared at him, looking him up and down like fish bait--it made him shiver. "Weasley." Was all he said, not saying anything else. He looked at Ron blankly, Ron couldn't read him at all. Daphne Greengrass emerged from his front, placing down her cup of juice. 

"Are you alright, Weasley?" She asked, already looking wasted, though sounding genuinely worried. Ron has no idea how Greengrass got her hands on liquor. This was the first time he's exchanged words with Daphne Greengrass, in his opinion, she was one of the better Slytherins.

Ron scratched the back of his head, steadying himself. "I'm all good, I was just looking for Hermione, ah--have you seen her?"

"Ah. I think she was....there, that's where I last saw her and your sister." She said, pointing at a far corner to the left. Ron could barely see anything, he went on his tippie-toes, but nothing. "The dance doesn't start for another ten minutes, she seemed to be really immersed in her conversation with Ginevra." There was a slight mischievious hint in her tone. And..by 'immersed', Greengrass meant totally in love.

Ron never took Ginny as the type to do PDA, it was both funny and disturbing. 

"Alright." Ron smiled. "Thanks for the help, Greengrass." He thanked her, if it was a different Slytherin, Ron doubts they would be as polite as her.

It seems like Greengrass attended with Zabini as her date. Their outfits were watching colors and had similar details, his eye almost twitched.

Greengrass nodded her head softly. "Potter is with Draco over there, want to come with us? You know, just until you have to find Granger." It didn't seem like a bad idea, and maybe it was a great chance to converse with the Slytherins, not to be too biased over them--like what Fred said. Speaking of Fred, he spotted him snogging Lee near the entrance to the garden earlier.

It seemed like Lee reciprocated his feelings, at last. Ron had been rooting for their love for weeks, ever since his talk with Fred. They barely talked outside of pranks, and it made Ron realize how close, yet so distant they were. Ron wanted to get to know his siblings more--Bill, Charlie, and Percy have already graduated. Bill was almost a decade older than him, and he was always working, already having graduated from Hogwarts when Ron was around seven.

Ron reminded himself to send Percy a letter after the ball. He doesn't know the specifics of Percy's job, just that he was undercover for something. Ron had no idea Percy felt so left-out back then, and it made him feel like a jerk for being a horrid younger brother. He wanted to make things right.

"I don't mind." Ron responded at last, he smiled subtly. 

Greengrass' eyes lit up. "Great! Now, come on, we don't have much time." Greengrass said cheerfully, grabbing the still silent Blaise Zabini along. His expression was blank, Ron couldn't read him at all.

Ron couldn't get Zabini's reaction to him out of his mind. No matter how much time he spent dressing up, would Zabini always see him as..indignant? Undeserving of the good attention? He's never cared for anybody else's opinion so much, the last time Ron was desperate for attention was third year. This was the first time in a year ,The twins would have made fun of him if they knew about this.

The crowd was as large as ever, they had to squeeze through multiple people just to get through. And soon enough, Ron saw Harry with Malfoy in a slightly less crowded corner. Malfoy was leaning against the wall, leg slightly raised and his arms crossed, while Harry rested the side of his head against the wall. And beside Malfoy was Parkinson, staring at them both knowingly. She practically gleamed when she noticed Greengrass.

"Hey!" Greengrass called out, "Potter, I've found your friend." Harry turned around and grinned.

He looked pleased, "Thanks, Greengrass. Hey, Ron!" He seemed cheerful tonight, and Ron almost wacked him on the head for leaving him alone for a man, a Malfoy, of all people. But then again, he couldn't be mad. Harry looked dashing tonight, he was also wearing a bit of light makeup, just simple sparkly green eyeliner and color on his lips.

Greengrass nodded, not before Parkinson jumped up and wrapped her arms around Greengrass like they were a couple that haven't seen in each other in years. Could they possibly?...It wasn't like he was against it, just shocking.

Ron slung his arm around Harry, grinning. "So, this is where you've been." He let his gaze linger on Malfoy briefly, he still looked like a stuck-up prat. The blonde met his eyes and squinted his grey-ones, subtly sticking a tongue out. Ron fought the urge to jump him right now, Harry needed his boyfriend in tact.

"Yup, sorry for leaving you back there." Harry sheepishly apologized. He better be sorry, Ron thought internally.

"Nope, I totally understand." Ron replied. "Anyways, did you two snog?" Eyes trailing down Harry's bruised lips. Ron almost threw up at the mental image of Harry and Malfoy pressing their lips together and exchanging saliva.

Harry flinched at the question, ashamed. Ron took that as a 'yes'. He'd only noticed it now, but Harry's lower lip had a small red bite, like a mosquito. Malfoy did look like a mosquito himself. "Don't tell anyone." Ron made a zipping-motion with his fingers and zipped his lips together.

"Don't worry, mate." Ron chortled lightly. "You look like...a snack." Ron wiggled his brows and smirked, making Harry cackle.

Harry wiped a tear from his eye, and spoke in-between laughs. "Thanks! You look like one as well." In the time they 'fake-dated' it became a habit for the other compliment the other, which they found hilarious.

Malfoy looked like he had sipped on vinegar, left eye twitching as he glared at Ron. He smirked, covering hisips with his palm. Well, this is interesting--Malfoy was the easily-jealous type. "You should go find Susan, I think the formal dance is starting." Ron said, spreading his arms and hugging Harry briefly, pressing a soft kiss on the crown on his head. Malfoy's jaw dropped.

"Yup! See you and Hermione on the dance floor!" Harry yelled while Ron walked backwards to the spot where Hermione would probably be in. Ron waved as well, and for the cherry on top, he sent a flying kiss towards Harry. Ron grinned, satisfied with his antics and skipped away.

The twins were rubbing off their natural mischieviousness on him. Or, it just ran in the Weasley-Prewett bloodline. Ron managed to find Hermione after a few minutes, he grabbed her shoulder and spooked her.

"Ronald!" She scolded, sighing as her hand rubbed her temples. "Don't just sneak up on me like that!" Ron chuckled.

"Dance is starting! You can dance with Ginny later, let's dance just this once, 'kay?" Ron took Hermione's cold hands, winking at Ginny, who kissed his best friend's cheek and went off to find her own partner, and roommate, Dean Thomas. Frankly, Ron found it funny that so much wizards and witches were bent, and took bent people as their dates too.

Dean was probably off with Seamus. Those two were known as one of the first people who became a couple in Gryffindor Tower, honestly? Ron never expected it, but they were a good match. 

The chatter amongst the students got even louder, since the first dance would soon begin. Others rushed to their dates, while he and Hermione had to squeeze their way through the crowd--again. Hermione cursed as her heel twisted, making her stumble and nudge someone on the back.

"Shit. Sorry." Hermione grumbled, but the air suddenly felt awkward. She bumped into Viktor Krum, who Ron recalls, asked Hermione out, but ended up getting rejected.

Krum smiled, "It is alright, Hermione." His accent was thick and heavy, making his words somehow sound fancier. Hermione smiled politely, before hooking her arm with Ron and walking away, hot on her heels, though she still had trouble walking with them on.

"What was that about?" Ron asked, "And slow down, you might trip again, for Merlin's sake." He pulled Hermione's arm was they turned a corner.

"It was just awkward." Hermione admitted. Ron remembered feeling weird when Hermione first mentioned the Viktor Krum asked her out, they had an age difference. Krum was eighteen, and Hermione turned fifteen in a month. It was weird.

Ron merely nodded his head, deciding not to push anymore when Hermione so clearly didn't want to entertain questions. The music started to play, and it sounded actual angels have descended. The violin accompanied with the cello sounded like a blessing for his ears.

He held his hand out for Hermione, who took it without hesitation. They walked to the center with a bunch of other students, Ron's left hand was on Hermione's waist and hers was on his shoulder, while their free hands were interlocked. They swayed to the beat and spun each other around.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Hermione suddenly asks, her periwinkle blue dress waved smoothly in the wind, she could barely make eye-contact with Ron.

Ron pursed his lips together, curious on the sudden question. "All the time, why?" As he spoke, he held his arm up as Hermione spun around gracefully. Those lessons his parents gave him on dancing back then actually paid off, though Ron was still stiff. It wasn't as bad as Charlie, though--he had two left feet.

"I'm scared." Hermione blurted out. "My grandmother used to say that highschool love didn't last forever." Ron doesn't know what highschool was, but assumes it's muggle school. "And now I..Ginny and I, we're both still so young. I love her so much, and I'm scared that one day we'll drift apart, and we'll both be left in each others past."

Ron was unsure on how to reply, he has always believed in school love. His parents dated in their time at Hogwarts, and now they were married with seven children. He had no doubts that his parents truly cherished each other, his dad kissed his mom in the morning and when he left for work. Mom spent hours in the kitchen to make his dad lunch.

"My parents met in Hogwarts." Ron said, making Hermione look up. "Got together at sixteen, got married at nineteen." They were fourteen, almost fifteen, thinking about the future was normal.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley did?" Hermione questioned, sighing. "I'm just... what if we both lose interest and marry other people? I don't want that." Her voice slightly trembled as they continued dancing.

"Ginny was boy-crazy before we got together--"

"--And you're afraid she might break up with you and get a boyfriend instead?"

Hermione lightly chortled, her throat was dry. "It sounds terrible, I know." Ron blinked, he didn't know Hermione thought of such things. He's quite sure Ginny only liked those guys, she didn't love them like she loves Hermione right now.

"No..It's a reasonable thought, actually." Ron said, "The Wizarding world is patriarchal, 'Mione. Homosexual people aren't usually accepted, and there are records that show parents marrying their children off after coming out to them, actually." It was a thought that suddenly appeared in his mind, though his lips moved faster.

Children of Pure-Blood families were always married off by the time they were adults. To be honest, the Wizarding world probably wouldn't care about homosexuality, if it weren't for the matter of children and heirs. If you were bent and the first born? Not okay. But the second born and onwards? Do whatever you please. Luckily, the Weasley house did not follow those traditions.

"...Huh?" Hermione blinked, confused, she obviously wasn't aware of that piece of information. "Oh. That's horrible!" She lightly exclaimed, Ron put his hands on Hermione's hips and lifted her up, before spinning around and putting her down. Dancing was tiring.

"Societal norms." Ron mumbled. "It isn't very accepted with the muggles too? I think I heard Harry mention it." It was sad, that same-sex couples weren't accepted in both the muggle and wizarding world.

Hermione fell into a deep silence, it was only until the son was coming to an end that she spoke again. "Sorry for troubling you with a question like that. It...came out of nowhere." It really did. But Ron didn't reply to that, he merely rubbed his thumb soothingly on Hermione's back, a gesture he did in a silent attempt at comfort.

"It's alright, 'Mione." Ron smiled, he felt so proud seeing how far his best friend has come, really. Even if Hermione's worst nightmare came true and she broke up with Ginny (somehow) it didn't change the fact that Hermione was his best friend. After everything he, 'Mione, and Harry have gone through all these years, they were practically soul-bound to each other.

The dance ended after that, he and Hermione did the courtesy bows per the customs. Ron felt like a weight lifted off his back when it ended, he almost tripped a few times.

Though Ron has no idea why Hermione was worried in the first place, of course the future was important. They could either die young, or live until they were a hundred.

"I'm going to go talk to Luna, see you after?" Hermione asked, Ron nodded, not before he squeezed Hermione's hand, she turned to look at him and smiled, thankful and somber. "Thank you." She whispered, her eyes watering.

Ron sighed, "Don't cry, you might ruin your mascara." He didn't actually care about the mascara, just wanted to make his friend cheer up, even if it was a tad bit. Hermione chuckled.

"You're right, and it's too crowded to find the bathrooms right now." She raised her head and fanned her face using her hand. "Go have fun now, don't stare at Zabini for too long, okay, bye!"

The red-head's cheeks turned pink, that idiot, why was she yelling that out loud?

Nonetheless, Ron talked to more people, some were faces he barely or didn't even recognize. They all brought up his new, dashing dress robes, and how he finally carried himself like a proper pure-blood. Ron resisted the urge to hex at these blood-supremacists once more, he kept a tight-lipped smile all through the night.

Hours passed, and he was starting to get bored. By now, it was probably eleven in the evening, the ball started around six-thirty. Ron wanted to leave this place, desperately, and sleep for three days straight. He's barely seen Zabini at all, and it (unfortunately) made him a little upset. Was the Slytherin actually ignoring him? It shouldn't come off as a surprise for Ron, he wasn't shocked at all, just disappointed.

He was with Harry right now, and he had a slight grimace on his face. He must be thinking about the second challenge, Ron took a bitter sip of fruit-juice. Harry was visibly frustrated when he received the clue, an egg, apparently. Ron worried about his friend's well-being, the first challenge had fucking-fire-breathing dragons. Charlie was there, the first time he's come home from Romania in almost two years.

"Are you alright, 'mate?" Ron decided to ask, though he knew he wasn't.

Harry sighed, "Not at all!" He whined. His boyfriend--eugh--Malfoy, was dragged away by Parkinson to speak to the other pure-bloods.

"Mate." Ron inhaled, "You are Harry-fucking-Potter, you are winning that shit." He held Harry's shoulder as she spoke, hoping his cringe-worthy words drilled on him. Harry was the chosen one, after all.

Harry grunted softly, slumping forward. "I still have no idea what the next challenge could be. All the other champions and I know is that something precious would be taken from us." Ron hummed. Something precious? It could be anything, "Fleur said it might be a person," Harry chuckles. "But I seriously doubt Bagman would endanger other students other than the champions."

"Fleur's right. And you know how unhinged Bagman and the others are." Ron said, "But, you're right, wouldn't they get sued for practically kidnapping other people?" They both burst out laughing.

Ron was willing to do anything to cheer up or boost Harry's spirits even by a little, he'd been so stressed with the tournament, and Ron felt like shit for being upset at first, with Harry being a champion. His insecurities got in the way, and although they remained, Ron put them aside for now, and tried his hardest not to feel jealous just this time.

"Definitely!" Harry exclaimed. "God, I needed that laugh." Ron patted his shoulder gently, Harry was a mess before having to tidy himself for the ball. He's sure Susan is satisfied with her date.

Ron took a sip of orange juice, he's probably tried all sorts of juice in the time he's been here. He didn't quite like dancing, and just sighed when another couple slips out into the garden. The air if the ballroom was making him feel a little trapped, all the formality and hijinks.

Ron spotted Malfoy leaving Parkinson's side, finally. Malfoy seemed very unpleasant when Parkinson dragged him away from Harry to talk to the other Slytherins. At least he knows Malfoy cares about Harry.

He leaned on the wall, one leg up against the wall with an arm crossed, the cup of juice pausing at his lips. "Hey, your boyfriend is coming over here."

"Draco? Where?" Harry spun his head around immediately, so quick Ron almost thought his neck had twisted. "Ah."

"I'll leave you two to it." Ron winked, pushing his head and letting his fingers run through his too-long ginger hair. He hadn't even seen a glimpse of Zabini after earlier, just a peek would have sufficed, but nothing. It made Ron think the other Slytherin was purposefully doing it, it made his chest clench in both hurt and fury. "I'm going out for some fresh air."

Harry nodded, smiling at him. "Are you sure you don't want to dance anymore? There's still a few more hours before the ball is done, you know." He pointed his lips at the orchestra starting the music again.

"I'm good." Ron shook his head. "Don't really like dancing all that much." He waved his hand slightly, leaving for the garden. He didn't want to intrude in their romantic time, he just hopes, hopes! To Merlin he won't stumble upon some people making out, or worse.

When he stepped out of the great hall, a breeze of fresh, the chilly air hit his face. It was freezing, unlike inside, which was pretty hot. Ron stands there for a few seconds, shutting his eyes and letting the night wind brush his features, the cold made him shiver and hug himself. He roamed around the garden, looking for a vacant space. In the process, he's passed by a carriage and heard questionable noises, along with the rustling of bushes--he did not want to know.

Leaving the party early wasn't in the question, it would just make him look like an utter loser. Who cares, though? Ron left the garden and went for the Astronomy tower instead.

Being at the tower meant he could see everything. He had a clear view of the gardens, and everywhere else he could see. Ron slumped forward and rested his cheek on his hand. He felt lonely. Harry had a boyfriend, Hermione was dating his sister, and  he had no one. Who would love a Weasley? Their family was regarded as the lowest in the eyes of the wizarding world, all because they didn't follow those bloody traditions of theirs.

Ron wished he had his broom with him, jumping from the height of the Astronomy tower and landing on his broom while flying around felt like a dream. Flying was always his favorite, just--moving in the air with no restrictions, feeling the wind hit his face and send his clothes and hair flying. It was a calming activity for him, mostly doing it when he felt too overstimulated in class, or just emotional and wanting to clear his head.

Ron breathed in, gazing at the stars. He took some time to reflect on himself. How exactly did he start fancying Zabini? They've never had a proper conversation before, besides that small interaction during potions. It just made Ron feel all the  more terrible. When Zabini somewhat disappeared after their brief encounter with  Greengrass hours earlier, Ron was upset, since it really seemed like Zabini hated him. But at the same time, he was glad they didn't cross paths again today, Ron wouldn't have known what to say.

He was Ron Weasley. Blood traitor, living in poverty, basic, most of his belongings were hand-me-downs, and he was, nothing special. Who would willingly fancy someone like him?

In times like this, Ron wished he was old enough to light a cigarette. He'd seen Bill and Charlie doing it before they moved out, even his dad, sometimes. However, his mother would absolutely be furious if he smoked while being fourteen.

It's not like he was actually going to do it.

"I wasn't aware someone else was already here." Ron flinched, spinning around and locking eyes with the very person he didn't want to see.

Those cold, icy hazel eyes.

Ron felt his stomach churn as he grew nervous. "Oh. Are you going to..." He trailed off, preparing to run off. He visibly gulped, fingers in his hair, slightly tugging at his locks.

Zabini waved his hand in dismissal. "You were here first, Weasley. Let's just share the space." Ron wanted to rebut, but for some reason his throat felt dry, and he couldn't spit his words out.

Eventually he gave in, despite his mind yelling at him to flee. "Sure." Ron barely managed to speak, it sounded more like an embarrassing squeak.

Zabini nodded stoicly, moving towards the balcony and staring down into the garden. His expression didn't change, he's always looked bored, uninterested, like he was above everyone. And Ron hated that. He hated that it looked good on Zabini. It just seemed like Ron was prepared to throw away any ounce of self-respect he has for this guy.

None of them spoke, it was silent and no words were exchanged. Ron fiddled with his fingers, which rested on the balcony. He hoped Zabini didn't hear his heart racing, because it was seriously distracting Ron. All he could think of was admiring Zabini's every feature, he was sure his face was perfect, and wondered if Zabini had any moles on his body.

Ron paused. Why was he thinking about Zabini's body? He wanted to beat the shit out of himself, badly. Ron took a deep breath, pushing his head back and letting his long hair flow freely in the wind. He had noticed the sneaky glances from Zabini, was he judging him?

Eventually, around twenty minutes passed. And there was still no conversation or small talk, Ron wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

"Why are you here?" Ron blurted out, inclining his head to the side, eyes slightly widening when he realized Zabini was already looking at him. "Did you get bored of the party?"

Zabini hummed blandly. "A bit. Though I just wanted some fresh air and time alone to recharge my social battery." He said, making Ron slightly huff, at that, the other raised a brow.

"I reckon you have a long line of people wanting to dance with you." He teased lightly, knowing it was true. There was no way someone as handsome and rich as Zabini was a loner like him. Ron didn't have a line, just a few girls from the other houses, but it was probably just a one time thing. Once they realize Ron didn't buy these Robes on his own, they'd lose interest just as quick as they gained.

"Mhm, I did." Zabini confirmed. "Though i'm not sure I enjoy dancing much."

Ron grinned, "I didn't take you as the type to dislike ballroom dancing."

Zabini smiled, smiled. "Our appearances don't showcase our personalities that well, doesn't it?" Zabini leaned against the cobblestone wall withbhis arms crossed.

It was a dangerous sight.

Ron couldn't stop thinking about Zabini's lips, his gaze lingering on Zabini's full lips. Would they be soft? Chapped? Or just right?

"My eyes are up here." Zabini called out, making Ron's cheek heat up. "What made you leave the great hall? Isn't Granger your date?" He asked, as tilted his head to the side.

"Hermione and I aren't romantically involved, if that's what you want to know." Ron replied, a little too quickly. "It's just the date rule." He mocked, making air quotes and giggling. He missed the way the Slytherin sighed in actual relief.

The Slytherin chuckled, and Ron felt like his life was complete--he just made the Blaise Zabini let out a chuckle. "It seems so. I apologize, I was convinced Granger was your girlfriend before I saw her all over your younger sister."

"Were they... doing anything?" Ron raised a brow. Good merlin, they were only thirteen and fourteen.

Zabini quickly shook his head, and Ron sighed in relief. "Not at all. They were just glued at the hip. Are they a thing? Granger and your sister."

"..They are, don't spread it around though, please?" Ginny would kill him or hex him to death if she found out he told a Slytherin. Luckily, Zabini nodded.

"Weasley, you don't have to worry--really. I may be a Slytherin, but I am not a blabbermouth."

Ron exhaled, embarrassed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply I didn't trust you because you were a Slytherin." Hearing the words from Zabini's mouth itself comforted him.

They were always worlds apart. Too different to be friends, their personalities were the opposite of the other and most likely wouldn't mash well. But, a late night talk with Zabini made him feel strangely giddy. Ron found himself asking--could he and Zabini have been friends? If Ron had let go of his image of evil Slytherins much, much earlier.

Ron found himself doubting it. Though it wasn't an..unpleasant thought. His chest bloomed with a spring-like warmth, which was odd, because it was snowing.

"You..." Zabini started to speak, Ron watched his adam's apple move when he gulped. They made eye contact, less serious from earlier, but just as intense.  "Nevermind." Zabini turned away, clearing his throat.

Zabini said nothing else after that.

Once again, they fell into silence. Though, this time, it wasn't the same stuffy silence they subjected themselves to just ten minutes earlier.

Zabini stared up at the moon and star, and he looked--breathtakingly handsome as he did. Ron was lucky Zabini wasn't looking at all, after being caught glancing at him earlier. Ron watched the moon's light kiss and shine on his mahogany skin. Ron's breath caught in his throat, there was a quiet yet loud ache in his chest.

Ron's eyes stayed on Blaise Zabini, not caring if he got caught. He traced every detail, every feature--as if memorizing and savoring everything before it was gone. Ron gulped, he craved Zabini, he wanted to hear his husky voice just once more. Ron's eyes didn't just stare, they searched. His eyes carefully watched Zabini's lips, which was in a straight line, stay completely still.

Every second was like torture--from having to stand so close to the very person he starved for, and it was..like bliss--being given the rare chance to carefully memorize Zabini's expressions. Ron knows there was dozens, probably thousands of words left unspoken between them.

But sometimes, silence was the better option.

"You can have the tower." Ron spoke, quiet, timid, like he wasn't a Gryffindor. "I'm heading back first." He watched Zabini's face for any reaction, feeling upset when the other barely acknowledged him, like dust clinging to a book.

"Okay. Thanks." Zabini replied, not daring to let his eyes linger on Ron, not even for a second.

Ron pursed his lips together, trying to stop the sadness blooming in his heart. Ron both hated and liked that cold, enigmatic aura of Zabini. Not lingering any further, Ron spun on his heel and walked away, his shoes making clicking sounds as he did.

He hated the coldness, he hated how nonchalant and unbothered he was.

He hated Blaise Zabini.

Hate was easier to say than a word as vague as love.

Severus watched as the students from all three schools--Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts--danced with each other. He didn't do much during the Yule ball, he couldn't be caught dead dancing with a teacher, like Minerva was.

Instead, be roamed around the school, knowing how famous the gardens were during balls. And he was correct, just ten minutes in, he caught Fawcett and Stebbins about to have sexual intercourse. Severus sighed internally.

Couldn't he just leave?

Karkaroff already chased after him earlier, hissing at him and pointing on his forearm--where his dark mark was beginning to return. Severus knew that, he had the dark mark too. The mark was starting to get stronger, The Dark Lord has been revived., he was returning to kill Potter Jr.

Severus wasn't sure how to feel. All he knew was that, now the Dark Lord was returning, he had to protect Potter. He was desperate to keep his promise to protect Lily's boy, even if he died in the process. Severus has already doomed his best friend, the least he could do was save her son.

It was snowing, it was the first thing he noticed once he stepped out of the great hall. It was also snowing when the last Yule ball occurred, he was fifteen.

1974, HOGWARTS, SLYTHERIN DORMS.

Severus has never felt beautiful, and the occasion of the Yule ball doesn't change that. Everyone was dressing up and buying new dress robes, but Severus had nothing--just his mother's old robes back when she was a student. He wasn't a rich pure-blood, Severus had no money to his name.

He sewed the holes shut, but it still looked like a mess.

"Don't tell me you're actually wearing that, Severus." Regulus glared at his mother's dress robes like it had personally offended him. He was staring at it with disapproval and disdain.

He shrugged, combing his finger through his greasy hair. "Reg, I don't have anything else." Severus deadpanned, sighing like it should have been obvious--because it was.

Regulus picked the dress robes up with his thumb and index, inspecting it like it was found at a crime scene. Of course, wizards who grew up rich like Regulus would never, ever be caught even breathing near something as tragic as his mother's robes.

Severus crossed his arms, waiting for Regulus' final decision. "Nope, you are absolutely not wearing this rag to the ball."  Regulus let it go with a plop, humming while rummaging through his own trunk.

"You can borrow mine." Regulus casually said, smirking when he finally found one of his dress robes--he held it up--it was made of pure silk and definitely cost more than everything Severus has ever owned. It was so...pure-blood looking, and it looked comfortable, not like his robes that were barely hanging on to its original form.

"Are you sure?" Severus didn't try to refuse, knowing it would be useless, Regulus doesn't take no for an answer. Regulus shoved the nearly folded clothes into his hands.

He huffed, "Severus, we are friends, of course you can borrow it. And, we have to do something about your hair." Regulus' silver eyes traveled up to his oily hair full of grease. Severus subconsciously slumped forward, touching his own hair. He had given up on fixing his hair long ago, his hair always went crazy while making potions, and it wasn't like he had money for expensive shampoo.

Severus' items weren't anything new, except his wand. Everything he owns was once his mother's, from the robes to materials. His father, Tobias, went bat-shit crazy when his Hogwarts letter first arrived. Tobias was throwing everything against the wall, Severus had to hide in the attic while being forced to endure his mother's screams of pain and agony. In the end, his mother killed herself after his thirteenth birthday.

He never wants to meet anyone even remotely similar to his father.

Severus kept his head still, Regulus was talking his ear off about his family and the dark lord, all while casting multiple charms to salvage his hair. Severus spent years being called a 'grease ball' by James Potter and his cronies, he so desperately wanted to beat-up Potter's face with a broom.

"--And then Evan said Barty probably wasn't into him, when Barty literally spends most of charms staring at Evan! Can you believe it?" Regulus scoffed, playing with Severus' hair. Severus nodded, Regulus had been partically agitated this week trying to get his two best friends together. Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr.

Severus had to admit--it was painfully obvious the two were in love, but either refuse to believe it. At this point, they might just never get together at all, with how much they bicker like an old married couple.

"Ah. And have you heard? Potter asked Evans out in front of everyone yesterday, truly a shame we weren't there to witness Potter embarrassing himself."

Severus chuckled lightly, the Gryffindor bravery was ridiculous sometimes. Lil--Evans was apparently all red in the face while accepting Potter's invitation. Severus still felt like shit for calling Lily a mudblood, but after she laughed at him while he was experiencing the worst moment of his life, it slipped out--and he regrets it--every day, every hour, every second.

"It's a pity Evans didn't blast him through the walls this time." Severus commented, remembering the first time Potter asked her out in fourth year. She ended up using a spell to push him through the castle's cobblestone walls, it left Potter's back aching for months. Severus felt a smile creep on his lips.

"Agreed." Regulus murmured, "And...done!" Severus wasn't sure what charm Regulus had used on his hair, but he was amazed--shocked. His hair was fluffy, soft, and had no knots.

Severus stared at himself in the mirror for two minutes, did Regulus just solve his problem of fifteen years in just five minutes? "You need to teach me that spell."

"After the ball." Regulus grinned, "Now get in your outfit!" He said, shoving both Severus and the dress robes behind the curtain.

1974, HOGWARTS, GARDEN.

Severus was eternally thankful and indebted to Regulus for the rest of his life. He grinned internally, he felt unbelievably satisified when everyone's jaws dropped when Severus walked in.

It was like a switch was turned. James Potter gaped at him, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, Black and Pettigrew exchanged confused looks, though Black's had more anger.

And Lupin?

The fucking werewolf was currently snogging him senseless against a wall. Severus tried to match his energy, but failed--Lupin's hands were both on his waist, holding him hard enough to leave bruises.

Severus was struggling to keep up with Lupin, soon, one of Lupin's hands ended up behind his head, shoving him closer as they smashed their lips together. Severus' hands were against Lupin's chest, as their tongues twisted together.

"Lupin.." Severus whispered sweetly, out of breath. Lupin pulled away, his lips glistening with saliva. "You're too much." Severus quietly said, his hand moving to Lupin's cheek.

Lupin hugged him, sniffing Severus like the werewolf he was, Lupin sucked on his neck, and sounds Severus didn't know he could make left his lips--Regulus was probably wondering where he was right now, he couldn't just say he was getting snogged senseless by Lupin, of all people.

"Remus." Lupin growled, lifting his eyes to gaze into Severus obdisian eyes. There was longing, and tension in the way there stared at each other. Lupin pulled away, taking Severus' hand and pressing his lips against it.

Severus stared with heavy breaths, his chest heaving. Lupin first kissed the back of his hand, then each of his fingers--carefully, Severus has never been treated so gently before. After kissing his fingers, Lupin stared at him, his amber eyes glowing under the moon, then he started licking Severus' palm.

"You're perfect." Lupin whispered, his voice so low it made his spine tingle. "Call me Remus again, please?"

"...Remus." Severus whispered, again. Remus pounced on him, continuing what they started.

Severus had to once again check his shields when he hopelessly recalled the memory of that night in the gardens.

They were teenagers sneaking around their friends to meet up. Severus didn't know how it happened--at first, they were in an empty classroom brewing Wolfsbane, and then an hour later Severus was being pushed against a wall by Lupin, while his hands roamed everywhere.

Their nights of passion were...intense, well it was one way to describe it--Lupin had a thing for his legs, he always licked them during their encounters. They started dating in secret after sneaking off inside closets for two months.

He hated to admit it, but Severus did love Lupin. He was too cowardly to choose between him or his friends, and that's what hurted the most. When Lupin chose his friends over him, Severus said nothing, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth, even almost twenty years later, it still remained.

Severus hated Lupin. He hated how cowardly he was, he hated how Lupin didn't choose him.

Hate was easier to say than a word as vague as love.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter was losing his mind.

He couldn't focus on the task at all--speaking of that, he had Ludo Bagman held up with a spell with his wand pressed against his throat. Bagman was squirming--screaming at Harry to let him go, but how could he? When this bastard took his friends for a stupid tournament.

"Where are Ron and Hermione?!" Harry yelled, there was a crowd beginning to form because of the commotion, but didn't care--how could he give a damn about anything else when his best friends have mysteriously vanished overnight?

Ron and Hermione would never vanish on their own accord, and knowing the lengths Bagman would go for the Triwizard tournament, Harry suspected him first. His suspicions were confirmed after overhearing that sleezy git mention a sleeping enchantment.

Harry was frightened, and a mess when Ron disappeared from the dorms after he woke up for breakfast, he was about to pass out when Hermione was also gone. He ran to Cedric immediately at Hufflepuff table--Harry ignored the glares of his Cedric's supporters-- Cedric then confessed that he hasn't seen Cho at all yet, chalking it up to just her taking extra time to get ready.

Bagman wheezed, "It's just for the--"

"I don't give a fuck about your excuses, I don't care if it's for the tournament--where are they?!" Harry sounded like a madman wailing, which reminded him of how Sirius cackled on the newspaper last year. The tip of his wand aggressively pressed harder on Bagman's throat.

Ron and Hermione were supposed to meet him before he dove into the black river, they were supposed to be his motivation--and now, they surely were. Harry was getting them back one way or another.

Viktor was one of the people backing him up, furious with Hermione's disappearance as well. Fleur was in nearly tears, her mother contacted her and said her little sister was gone. 

All the champions met up to discuss it, then Fleur had pointed out the clue--it came like a crash for all of them when they connected the dots, that Bagman was using bystanders who weren't champions for the competition, they could die!

"Where eez Gabrielle?" Fleur demanded, glaring at Bagman. "'Ow dare you take my little sister?!"

Draco and Zabini were in the crowd near them, Draco didn't necessarily like Ron or Hermione but seeing as Harry was so frustrated he was also angry on behalf of his lover. "Is this guy insane?" Draco loudly exclaimed.

"Most definitely!" Seamus added, "Bring Ron and Hermione back!" He was about to jump forward and use his explosives on Bagman, if it weren't for a tired Dean Thomas holding his partner back with a sigh that seemed to say 'I-don't-get-paid-enough-for-this'.

Zabini was eerily quiet, but Draco whispered to him earlier that Zabini always got silent when he was angry--Zabini's fists clenched tightly.

"Couldn't you have used other methods?" He finally spoke, making others turn to him in shock--Zabini? Defending others? "Using humans is just irresponsible and reckless,  you will be held accountable for any damage done to the hostages." Zabini flicked his cufflinks with a glare. Everyone knew not to mess with the House of Zabini, they practically ruled Italy, so his threat lingered dangerously.

Draco's jaw dropped, clearly not expecting his 'enigmatic, quiet, lion-hating' best friend to actually speak up. Frankly, Harry was glad Zabini was starting to soften up, if Zabini wanted Ron then he needed to prove to Harry that he was worthy.

They didn't know much, other than the fact their loved ones were probably already drowning down the black lake with every second that passed. Luckily, Cedric was able to notice that.

"We need to get them." Cedric said, holding Harry's tense shoulder. "They're under the river, possibly under a sleeping potion--but even then, it won't last forever." Basically, if they don't hurry it up, Ron, Hermione, Cho, and Gabrielle really might die.

Harry was about to burst into flames, too hot for even the black lake to extinguish. How was this approved?

Cedric was right, there was no use holding Bagman against the wall like this, Harry can do that later. Harry's chest was heaving and beads of sweat started to form on his forehead, he was already in his swim wear, he needed to hurry up if he wanted to save his friends.

Reluctantly, Harry retracted his wand and released his grip on Bagman's collar. Bagman gasped, staring at Harry with fury--but Harry walked away without saying anything else, he was afraid of the words that might leave his lips if he attempted to speak.

Harry rushed to Draco and pressed a light kiss on the blonde's lips, Harry stared into his grey eyes--he couldn't care less about the train of gasps that ensued after he did. "I'll come back--with Ron." The last bit was directed at Zabini, who looked oddly tense as he nodded. Draco pulled back from their kiss and pecked his lips on Harry's forehead scar.

"And 'Mione." Added Ginny, who was sweating, who had probably run down the bleachers to here.

Harry nodded, "and Hermione."

Fleur, with a few more jabs at Bagman, went to Madam Olympe, who had a slight sneernon her expression. Karkaroff simply huffed as Viktor stood next to him, tapping his shoulder as a small way of supporting him. Professor Moody stood behind Harry, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze.

Harry slowly turned his head to look at him, and Professor Moody nodded in acknowledgement. Harry sighed, although Professor Moody was a little...in the head, he liked that he was supportive.

"On your marks!" Dumbledore yelled. Harry clasped his hands together and breathed in, he pulled out the gillyweed and ate it. Thank Dobby for the gillyweed, though Harry was unsure how Dobby acquired it.

Harry's body tingled--in his neck specifically, and before he knew it, something was growing out of his bloody neck. Harry's hands flew to his neck, wincing when he accidentally touched it, after a few seconds it sprouted into...gills.

Bloody hell.

"Go!" Dumbledore announced, Harry was aware he hadn't jumped in yet although the others already have. Harry bent forward, wheezing as the gillyweed came into effect.

His delay led to Professor Moody pushing him in, Harry's body made an awkward sprawl as he fell into the lake. He felt the water around his body, he clumsily held on to his wand, it was already starting to slip from his palm.

He dove into the lake, still holding his neck even after the gills sprouted, after a few seconds, Harry was amused to see his now webbed hands and feet. Was he a mermaid now? Harry kicked his feet forward as he swam through the seaweed.

It was a little dirty and unclear underwater, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. Quickly, his view of the river shifted clearer, thanks to the gillyweed.

Every minute, every second--Ron's life was in danger--Harry couldn't think of anything reasonable other than saving his friends, Hermione was Viktor's hostage, which meant she was Viktor's to save. Harry wanted to badly, badly bash Ludo Bagman's head into a wall, and throw a rock at Rita Skester's shite hair.

The gillyweed made it comfortable for him to swim around freely, he swam alongside the fish--which was an experience. Harry swam around the sea creatures--there was Grindylows, and Merpeople swimming around the lake. He couldn't get eliminated now--how long did Dobby say the gillyweed would last? An hour?

Just as Harry swam past the grindylows after successfully dodging them, he heard a muffled scream, he whipped his head around and saw Fleur getting attacked by the grindylows. They were latching on to her legs and arms, Fleur couldn't swim away. Harry, though a little hesitant swam back for Fleur, they locked eyes as Harey began kicking and punching the grindylows grabbing on to her. It was barely enough, Harry felt his bones tweak with every ounch he landed to those creatures.

Fuck. Harry was a malnourished, underweight pre-teen, he didn't have any muscle at all.

Fleur managed to shake off the grindylows clinging to her arms, she balled her hand into a fist and punched the grindylow in the face, Harry shivered--damn, Fleur was strong. Harry finally got ahold of his hand despite it slipping from his grasp.

'Relashio!' He yelled internally, his wand started releasing sparks, which scared most of the grindylows away. It took him a lot of force to cast a wordless relashio, not quite getting the hang of wordless spells yet.

He had a few scratches himself from the grindylow's nails, but after a brutal five minutes, Harry barely managed to grab Fleur's wrist as he used another relashio on the remaining grindylows on her despite his legs feeling sore. He had thirty seven minutes with the gillyweed, it was barely enough--

He and Fleur swam away, mostly just him pulling her along as his webbed feet gave him an advantage in speed. Fleur looked at him, and nodded, her face overflowing with relief. Harry was never going to leave Fleur there, she needed to save her little sister. If he hadn't helped her back then, Fleur would most likely be forced to retreat and her sister just--left there, under the lake.

His stomach churned at the thought of leaving a kid for death--even if he couldn't save Fleur from the grindylows, Harry would have saved Gabrielle one way or another. 

There was a few abandoned structures and buildings that they swiftly passed, Fleur hadn't let go of his arm, as Harry insisted--they would be faster this way. Thankfully, after around fifteen minutes, they found the area where the hostages were kept.

Four hostages--their friends, their loved ones. Their ankles were chained down to the seafloor, he and Fleur nodded towards each other before swimming to their respective hostages. Harry hates referring to them as such.

Ron was still unconscious from the magical enchantment, standing very still and letting the water carry his body. Harry looked at his friend and felt a surge of anger--he was  going to beat the shit out of Bagman later, and Rita Skeeter can publish it for all he cares.

He did a pained glance towards Hermione's unconscious figure. He needed to trust Krum in saving her, the thought never did make his heart stop beating so quickly. It felt wrong leaving Hermione there, even though he knows Viktor was more than capable of saving Hermione.

Harry snatched the chain on Ron's ankle and dived down, he pointed his slippery wand on the metal and casted a wordless diffindo. In an instant, the lock around Ron's ankle was severed and sunk down. Harry embraced Ron for a brief second--he was so scared, that he had lost him.

Ron has been his person for years, he was the one who gave Harry a family and the first friend he's ever made at Hogwarts. Harry wouldn't know what to do with himself if Ron ever died. Harry could hear the loud thumps in his chest, his lower lip trembled before he turned his head towards Fleur and Gabrielle.

Fleur found a very sharp rock from the floor and grabbed it, before she used it to shatter the chains on her little sister Gabrielle's leg. Harry nodded as they locked eyes once more, they were betting better at mentally communicating with each other--although neither were an occlumens or legilimens.

Harry held Ron tightly as he felt the effects of the gillyweed starting to wear off. He swam upwards and had to fight off more of the grindylows and merpeople. Using his wand while holding to someone was difficult, the grindylow's nails scratched him again, though much deeper this time. He had experienced worse pain, this was barely anything to him, even if his blood slowly seeped out of his wounds and mixed with the water.

He could see it, the light--his legs ached from earlier and swimming so much, when he was about to reach the surface, the gillyweed wore off--wincing when the water  hitting his eyes finally registered for him, nonetheless, it only slowed him down a bit.  Harry put all of his remaining strength to carrying Ron and reaching the surface.

Harry gasped as his head popped out from under the river, his ears were clogged with water, the cheers from the bleachers were muffled. At that point, the enchantment on Ron finally dissipated, Ron woke up with a cough.

"Where the bloody hell am I?" Ron gasped, choking on the water as he helped Harry swim towards the tower. Ron looked around, "...Did I drown?" Ron was utterly confused, he stared at the lake like it had personally offended his ancestors and probably wondered how he got there.

"Nope, you're all good." Harry sighed, water dripping from his chin, blinking multiple times to fight the sting in his eyes. "Bagman used you as my hostage for the challenge." It was said with a snarl, Harry rolled his eyes.

Ron swore under his breath, furious. "That insane arse!" he yelled, wiping down his face. "I am so going to kill him after this." Ron snarled, his drenched brows furrowed.

Harry nodded, just wanting to get out of the lake. His body felt like it was running on fifty-percent water.

The cheers were loud when he climbed up with Ron, Harry's legs gave up and he collapsed on the floor. "Mate, you alright?" Ron whispered, sitting on the wooden ground, he patted Harry's back in assurance. Ron looked at him painfully.

"Thanks for saving me."

"I will always save you." Harry retorted, he would never leave his friends behind even if he died. At his response, Ron chuckled lightly and pulled him into a soft, wet hug.

After a few minutes, Fleur came up in second. She was holding Gabrielle like a stuffed-animal, the students of Beauxbatons were very glad and proud of their representative. Krum and Cedric tied for third--Hermione was coughing violently, as Krum ushered her out of the lake, and Cho was soaking wet as she held on to Cedric.

"In first place, Harry Potter!" The twins were one of the loudest voices from the stand, Fred was hugging Lee while looking like a hyper golden retriever. "In second, the champion for Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!" The students of Beauxbatons clapped for Fleur, giggling. They did a chant, Harry watched as Fleur smiled and blew kisses at her friends.

"Tied for third, Cedric Diggory and Viktor Krum!" The Hufflepuffs broke into ear-piercing screeches, chanting Cedric's name repeatedly--so did the students of Durmstrang. Though Harry could tell some were annoyed he placed first.

Hermione thanked Krum for saving her, but other than that, she left without another word--she bowed politely and turned her back on him, although Viktor looked quite upset. "Are you two alright?" She asked after reaching them, crouching down and tracing the scar on Harry's forearm, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey." Hermione grumbled, lifting Harry's limp arm and checking for other injuries.

"Should be asking you two that." Harry chuckled, still throwing up water. "I was fine until the last three minutes, the gillyweed's effect wore off." He let Hermione help him up, with Ron slinging Harry's arm around his shoulder.

She huffed fondly. "Silly." Hermione lightly pinched Harry's cheek like he was a little boy. "You swam down there--who knows how deep? You rescued Ronald. So, are you okay?" She repeated, staring at Harry's forest-green eyes.

Harry sighed, "I don't know, not really." He decided on as an answer.

"I can't remember being taken down to the lake." Ron admitted, making them both turn to him. "Like, I was just walking around the castle, then all of a sudden I woke up to Harry holding me while he swam up, to save both of our lives." There was a slight fondness in his tone, which made Harry's chest warm.

Hermione nodded. "Me as well, I was at the library waiting for Ginny--I was going to help her with the potions essay." Her nose scrunched. "Can't Bagman be held accountable for this?"

"Not at all." Cedric said from behind Harry. "It's part of the Triwizard tournament, binding-contract and all that, legal action against Bagman won't be possible if we were warned about the dangers of the tournament beforehand." Hermione groaned loudly into her palms.

Cedric crouched down, "Are you alright, Harry?" He asked, Harry gave him a subtly nod. "Fleur told me about you saving her--and honestly? You are amazing, and incredibly selfless." He laughed, bright and sweet like the Hufflepuff he was.

"Gabrielle needed her." Harry hummed, finally coughing the last bits of water in his system out. "Congrats on third." He extended his hand for a shake, Cedric took it with a pleasant huff, shaking Harry's hand with a slight smirk.

"Thank you, Mr-First-Place." Cedric teased, ruffling Harry's drenched curls before being dragged away by his friends, who were very ecstatic by his placing. Cho beamed brightly, before jumping into Cedric's arms. Harry chuckled lightly when they kissed each other, they were really meant to be.

And then, Fleur came running to Harry after placing Gabrielle in her headmistress' care. Before he could utter a single word, Fleur leaned down--still soaking wet--and kissed both of Harry's cheeks. Her blonde hair trailing down her pale shoulder, she pulled Harry into a hug, he smiled before wrapping his own bruised arms around her.

"You saved me, thank you." Fleur grinned, making Harry giggle. They've been great friends ever since they found out the veela charm didn't work on Harry, Fleur's veela heritage made every guy stare at her, and irresistable when she spoke, she could hardly feel comfortable with any other guy.

Perhaps it didn't work on Harry because he was a homosexual and had a boyfriend. He's never seen any girls--or Fleur in that way. The most interest he's shown in a girl was thinking about how pretty Cho was back then. Besides, Fleur was like a cool older sister, it was a win-win situation.

Harry recognized the kisses as a french gesture, and Harry did the same--he kissed both of Fleur's cheeks. "I wasn't about to leave you, although we are competing against each other."

"You are...vair-ee self-less." Fleur exhaled, her accent dripping heavily. His two friends who were still next to him nodded in agreement.

Harry's gaze snappes to the familiar voice in the crowd, he saw Draco, his beautiful boyfriend--dragging Blaise with him--pushing through the crowd of Gryffindors holding a stack of towels.

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, kneeling down and not caring if his robes got soaked in the process. Harry smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend, feeling a familiar tingling heat creep up his cheeks--he ignored Hermione's huff and Ron surpressing his laughter--Draco kissed the tip of Harry's nose and wrapped a towel around hi.

"I weel leave you two love-birds to eet." Fleur added with a shit-eating grin, she stood up and went to her friends and schoolmates from Beauxbatons.

Harry sighed, shivering as the air hit his ice-cold body, "Cold." He murmured, Draco nodded and wrapped...three more towels around him, well at least it helped. Harry pulled the cloths closer and lifted his head to stare at the sky.

"Weasley....Granger, are you two.. alright?" Zabini asked the two, after lingering beside Draco a little awkwardly. He didn't look like he had any idea how to deal with Draco just dragging him around like a child. Harry held in a chuckle when he noticed the pause in Zabini's voice after 'Weasley', he almost forgot Hermione was there--laughable.

Hermione grinned, pulling all her hair over one shoulder and twisting it to get rid of the water. "I'm all good, thank you for asking, Zabini." Zabini nodded, "You can talk to Ron if you want," Ron shot her a betrayed look, his mouth slightly agape. "I'm going to find Ginny."

"..Hermione.." Ron deadpanned, his voice was low and subtle only for Hermione to hear. However, Hermione only smiled--knowingly at him before turning her attention back to Zabini.

Zabini paused, looking slightly unsure, but he ended up nodding. "Alright then. I'm sure she was dragged back to the bleachers after earlier, if you needed to know."

"I did. Thank you again, Zabini." Hermione replied, pleased.

"--Actually, you two can talk after we get back to the castle." Harry butted in, "The headmasters are already escorting the others in." He said, pointing at Karkaroff talking to Viktor and different students from all three schools started to leave the stands and back to Hogwarts.

"Alrighty." Hermione hummed, hands on her hips, "Ginny is likely waiting for me, i'll go find her--meet you guys inside!"

They returned to the castle after the points were announced. Harry took first place--obviously--with fourty five points, he was given an additional five points for helping Fleur escape the grindylows. Fleur was second with fourty points, Cedric and Krum ended up with thirty-five points each since they had tied for third.

Harry shivered even if he had multiple towels wrapped around his body, on the way back, he had to explain everything that happened to Ron and Hermione whilst they were unconscious.

"I--what?" Ron blinked multiple times, his fingers tugging on his hair. "So, 'Mione and I got kidnapped by Bagman for the challenge? That psycho!"

Hermione shivered, even after her clothes were all dry from a drying spell. "But..why was I the one chosen as Viktor Krum's hostage?" She wondered out loud, "The only time i've talked to him is when he asked me out, really." She huffed, though Ron could tell there was something on her mind.

"Would they be able to kidnap someone from Durmstrang?" Malfoy smirked, "Now that I think about it--I was supposed to attend Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts."

Harry stared at him, his jaw dropping. "Wait. Really?"

Malfoy nodded, "I didn't because mother wanted me closer to home."

"You would've looked handsome in Durmstrang's uniform." Harry whispered, grinning as Malfoy's cheeks flushed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Can't you two wait until you've reached the dorms?"

"Right." Ron agreed.

Ron was unsure how to deal with the block of ice walking next to him, though he was a little upset when Zabini visibly flinched when Ron got too close to him while walking, their arms brushed ever so slightly--and Zabini flinched. Did the Slytherin develop an allergy to him during Yule?

He didn't know, but it was painful. Ron wanted to go back in time, during that night of the Yule ball, where they both shared the Astronomy tower and basked under the beautiful moonlight. Atleast back then, it didn't seem like Zabini disliked him. To be fairly honest, that short conversation was the longest they ever spoke to each other.

The magical enchantment that was used on the hostages--it was very powerful, not even Ron could remember when he was taken by Bagman and his helpers.

Ron played with the ends of his hair, it was starting to get long--maybe growing it out would look good on him, like the twins' hair at the moment.

"Blaise and I were about to start another smear campaign for Bagman." Malfoy said, crossing his arms. "I have never seen Blaise defend anyone like that--well, other than his mother, of course."

"Uh. What are we talking about?" Ron chimed in, "Wasn't paying attention, my bad."

Malfoy huffed, "Harry was about to hex Bagman into oblivion after you and Granger disappeared. Blaise and I helped in reprimanding him." He said smugly.

"Really?" Ron asked, in disbelief. In what parallel universe was Malfoy and Zabini actually defending Ron 'blood traitor' and Hermione 'mudblood'? And yes, he still wasn't over second-third year, although it was partially his fault--slugs tasted gross.

"Be thankful." Hermione whispered, hitting Ron lightly with her shoulder. "Harry said Zabini looked like he was about to lose it--if it weren't for Dumbledore telling the champions to start preparing."

Well, this was his first time hearing about this...and he'd be lying if he wasn't a little bit relieved that Zabini didn't seem to hate him all that much to he glad about him being a hostage.

"Oh." Ron uttered, unsure. Things between him and Zabini was a little awkward, nonetheless, he slowly turned to Zabini and he swore his heart skipped a beat when he realized Zabini was already staring at him. Ron's caught him doing it multiple times--yet he still doesn't understand what it could possibly mean. "Thank you, Zabini." He finally managed to say, biting his lower lip.

Zabini continued to stare at him with his cold eyes, which made Ron nervous--did he assume wrong? Maybe Zabini really did want to strangle him to death!

To his relief, Zabini's full lips parted. "It was nothing, anyone with common sense would have done the same."

Zabini was wrong, not everyone would have done what he did. Not everyone was good at heart, and some were just simply too cowardly to speak out--which is why Ron appreciated Zabini's actions. His heart danced the whole time, which was a little embarrassing, did anyone notice the way Ron trembled? He hopes no one did.

"Still--I appreciate it." Ron replied, trying not to bang his head against a wall just because. Zabini nodded lightly while humming, and Ron couldn't help but stare at his perfectly long fingers with gold rings on both pinky fingers. Merlin, he was so weird.

Luckily, the point of conversation shifted after that. Harry talked about the tournament, and Malfoy was a fool listening to Harry with stars in his eyes--Hermione left after she finally found Ginny and Zabini went back to staying quiet.

Merlin, help him.

It was a starry night atop the astronomy tower tonight, Ron asked Hermione to transfigure him a telescope to see the stars closer.

Ron spent hours just admiring the gorgeous night sky, transfigured telescope in hand. He never really went sight-seeing before, the closest he's gone was when he was younger, and Percy was showing him the different constellations that night. Ron remembered everything despite being only six years-old at the time, Percy wss patient in teaching him.

Once, a then ten-year old Percy pointed at the constellation of Pisces, which was Ron's star sign. It was simple, yet so breathtaking. Ron's always hoped that he and Percy got to do it again, but visibly being close to his family would compromise Percy's position.

It was why Ron was never able to hate Percy, even when he was a little pompous and Ron felt jealous when Percy showed off his prefect badge and when he was chosen as head boy.

His long, red hair flowed freely with the wind. It was tied up messily in a half-do with one of Hermione's red hairties. Ron was in his pyjamas, he brought the marauder map along with him, just incase Filch catches him not in bed after hours.

"Weasley?" It was a familiar voice. Robn turned around and saw Zabini--the epitome of beauty itself. Ron didn't bother to check the map before Zabini entered.

Ron smiled at him, "It seems like we keep bumping into each other on the astronomy tower." He said, shuddering from the strong breeze of wind.

Zabini's breath hitched, "You..." His lips parted and closed, as if he couldn't bring himself to utter the words he wanted to say. It was a sight to see Zabini stumble over his words.

Ron tilted his head ever so slightly, relishing in the way the other's nose scrunched. "You..?"

"Why are you here again?"

The words left his mouth cold and indifferent, the same coldness that Ron has learned to both love and hate. Zabini's almond eyes roamed around Ron's entire body, as if studying him closely--it made Ron shiver fervently.

"Why can't I?" Ron retorted, "Am I not allowed to go around my own school?" He added as an afterthought, crossing his arms on the railings and resting his head down.

The other stayed silent, before his lips parted and he spoke. "It's past curfew." Zabini said, making Ron scoff.

"You're here as well. I thought you'd say something better, or anything smarter--considering the fact that you're a Slytherin." Ron sharply shot back at Zabini, his own ocean-blue eyes making contact with Zabini's mahogany ones. For a second, he saw hurt in Zabini's eyes, and he concluded that he was hallucinating.

For a moment, it was silent once more. Just like the night of the Yule ball, though this time, neither could understand the other amidst the silence.

Ron's hated the silence, not being very used to it--growing up with five older brothers and a younger sister, moments of just...being quiet was a rare thing. He's felt all messed up in both his heart and head when he first started harboring feelings for Blaise Zabini. Ron felt like a madman searching for Zabini in crowds, and purposefully brushing their arms together sometimes in class--just the smallest reaction made Ron feel seen.

Maybe he was slowly turning into a love-sick psycho, at least then his mother would actually pay attention to him, just once.

"I'm sorry." Zabini blurted out, which was unexpected. Ron pursed his lips, eyes widening when he processed what the other had just uttered.

Ron has gone his whole life being called a blood traitor for simply being born with red-hair and a hand-me-down robe. Zabini was no different, Ron knows what the other has said about him, which is why loving Blaise Zabini was difficult.

He would have at the least, slightly forgiven himself of he liked Zabini--but Ron couldn't--his feelings grew into love, and he has no idea how, when they barely know each other.

"Is that for just now or everything that has gone down between us?"

"Everything--I was such a prick to you, I'm sorry."

Ron has no idea what possessed him at that moment, but his breath trembled as he lifted his head, before he pulled Zabini's arm and pressed their lips together. 

It was pathetic--that a simple 'sorry' made him fold. But Ron has loved Zabini even then, and hearing that word from his lips felt amazing.

Zabini froze. Before his hand held Ron's waist firmly while his other hand grabbed Ron's jaw as they kissed. Ron had no idea what he was doing, and neither did Zabini--the way they kissed each other was rough and amateur-ish. Ron couldn't care less.

He had a significant height difference with Zabini--and Ron liked that, since he had to go on his tippy-toes to kiss Zabini. Ron pulled away first, feeling his hot breath reflect on him. Zabini groaned, the hand on Ron's hip sliding up to the back of his head, without warning Zabini pulled him in again for a kiss.

It was sloppy. Ron moaned when Zabini's tongue twisted with his own, he felt his cheeks heat up at the action. 

"Blaise." Ron mumbled in-between breaths,  wincing softly when Zabini lightly tugged on his hair. "Blaise, Blaise." Ron was unable to stop himself from chanting his name, Zabini pulled away from the kiss and before Ron could protest, his lips went down to his neck.

Ron slapped a hand on his mouth to stop the sounds leaving his mouth. "Ron--Ron." Zabini grunted, holding Ron's neck completely still while tilting it upwards for better access.

"Ron."

"Ron!" Seamus yelled, shaking Ron awake with a glare, "Are you having a seizure?"

Ron woke up with a loud, ear-piercing screech, making Neville yelp in response before dropping his flower pot on the doemitory floor. "My sunflower!" Neville's face turned pale, he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Ron, what the hell?!" Harry yelled from the bathroom, he slid his head out from behind the door, bubbles on his mouth from the toothpaste. "Did you dream about the tap-dancing spiders again?"

Dean stared at Ron from his bed, his trunk was on his bed, taking out some quills. "Tap-dancing spiders? Really?" His roommate deadpanned, "Poor Neville's pot is shattered now." Ron turned to look at Neville grimly tidying the broken shards on the floor.

"Sorry, Nev'" Ron sighed, "And yes, Dean--tap-dancing spiders. That was a nightmare." How was he supposed to tell them it wasn't about tap-dancing spiders but his hot crush instead?

"We could tell." Seamus added, "You were throwing your head from side-to-side and mumbling something--couldn't hear it though, started with...a B?"

Ron smiled sheepishly. Don't you dare, Seamus. He was not about to have the entire Gryffindor tower find out about his...embarrassing dream. Ron paused, did he really just dream about Zabini snogging him on the astronomy tower?

"Give me a moment." Ron told his roommates, who looked confused--Ron grabbed his pillow and screamed into it. What in Merlin's saggy tits was he dreaming about?! Oh, Ron felt like exploding from shame--there was no way he just a wet dream about his best friend's boyfriend's best friend.

It felt so real, so surreal. Ron could actually feel Zabini's lips pressed against his, which made him blush even harder--and scream into his pillow louder. Holy crap, he hoped no one used legilimens on him--he would never live this down if anyone found out.

Ron hated to say it, but he was secretly wishing that stupid dream comes true. Blimey, he was utterly shameless.

"Bloody hell, mate." Seamus stared at him with an incredolous gaze and his mouth hung open. "You're acting like you had a dream about shagging someone."

Well, not exactly.

Ron forced himself to laugh. "Ridiculous, it was about my mother throwing me out of the house--" He added a fake shiver for effect, "Blimey, I get shivers just thinking about it."

"Get better soon, mate." Dean joked, "Oh geez, I suddenly remembered the howler your mother sent you during second-year. It frightened me a little."

"Happens." Neville chimed in. "But you might be late if you don't start getting ready right now, Ron."

Shit--he had potions first thing in the morning.

Chapter Text

"I love you."

Ginny whispered in her ear fervently, her breath shook slightly, which sent tingles fown Hermione's spine. Her bright brown eyes reflected like a beautiful amber under the setting sun that seeped through their dorm window. She looked ethereal, like a surreal being that didn't quite belong in this world.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, she pursed her lips together and swallowed nervously. Hermione reached her hand out, fondling with Ginny's fiery red hair--It was so soft, Hermione ran her fingers through her long hair and smiled.

"I love you too, Gin." They were on the same bed--more specifically, Ginny's. They laid side-to-side on Ginny's soft mattress, they were both still in their school robes, but neither seemed to care about it.

Ginny's hand traveled to Hermione's, which was playing with her hair--the long hair that Ginny has desperately wanted to chop off for so long now. She snickered lightly, locking her own fingers with Hermione's. Ginny took control of Hermione's hand and brought it to her chest, the older girl blushed as she felt every quick beat of the other's heart. They were in their own world, and Hermione would never forget this moment.

"Beautiful, so pretty." Hermione murmured in her ear, her lips parting to let out a shaky breath. "All mine." She added, making her chuckle softly.

The younger girl grinned, her freckles creasing when she did. Hermione bit her lower lip, she wanted to get lost in Ginny's eyes--count every freckle that were scattered on her cheeks like littered stars spread out on a starry night. Hermione often wondered how she got so lucky with someone as perfect as Ginny Weasley.

"All yours." Ginny whispered back. She leaned forward to press a chaste kiss on Hermione's temple, the other girl flushed beet-red when she felt Ginny's gentle, pillow-soft lips on her forehead. Ginny tracked her every movement, smirking when she noticed how red Hermione's cheeks got.

They stayed like that for a long time, they barely said anything, because they both knew there was nothing to be said, their silence said everything they needed to say.

Hours passed, and Ginny fell asleep first. She looked serene as she made soft sounds in her sleep.

Hermione, on the other hand, could not fall asleep no matter how hard she tried--how could she? She may not be an artist but she could paint Ginny's face forever, and dedicate statues to her. She smiled softly, she had classes tomorrow, but that could wait, the most important thing to her was right beside her.

Hermione continued to study her girlfriend's face as more time continued to pass--she learned that Ginny had fifty-two freckles across her cheeks. Call her insane--or absolutely smitten, but she memorized every freckle, every eyelash, and every strand of hair.

Hermione did not care that she loved Ginny Weasley, who was a woman. Because hiding and not embracing who you were and who you loved would just be living a life full of lies and deception.

The feeling of loving Ginny was as easy as breathing, because Ginny was her truth--the person Hermione has been waiting for, her entire life, the very someone she has been waiting for, the knight in shining armor that would sweep her off her feet.

Although, it was a dame in shining armor instead. Much better than a knight, of course.

She's known that she wasn't like the other girls for quite some time now--and what Hermione meant by different was which gender she was attracted to. All the boys shes friends with--Ron, and Harry--she assumed her feelings for Ron back then were romantic, she was wrong. Ron was her best-friend, and a lot like her brother by bond, they have endured many battles together.

Hermione was followed what society expected of her for a long time--like with Viktor Krum. She wasn't into him, and when Krum asked her out and she rejected him, word spread amongst the Gryffindor girls and were leaked to some other houses.

They all said she was way too arrogant and egotistical for turning down someone like Viktor Krum, the best seeker as of now. It's not Krum was a bad person, Hermione just didn't like him, nor was she physically or mentally attracted to him, and he was also significantly older than her--if he studied in Hogwarts, he's be in his last year already, which she felt quite uncomfortable with.

The girls envied her for catching Krum's attention, but Hermione would give anything and everything to pass the envy and attention to someone else who was actually attracted to Krum. Why would she drool after Viktor Krum when she was dating someone far better than any man?

After believing that girls could only want a man for years, Hermione has finally grown enough to dislike that saying. She wasn't straight, and so was her best friends. Harry has a boyfriend, Malfoy--who she still hates for calling her a mudblood, and Ron was hopelessly pining over a certain Blaise Zabini.

Hermione has disliked it when Ginny was still in her boy-crazed era, it made her feel insanely jealous, it was unbearable--and she was admitting that. Luckily, Dean turned out to be bisexual all this time, he was just in constant denial of his feelings for guys for a long time--he and Seamus are now dating, both are happy.

Beside her, Ginny murmured something incoherent as she shifted closer to Hermione's chest. The other girl smiled, hugging Ginny tightly and inhaling her scent in--it was one of Hermione's habits now whenever she and Ginny were in close proximity.

Ginny smelled like vanilla, fresh flowers, and vanilla--which were all three scents Hermione smelled when she brewed her first amortentia potion. They were truly meant to be, is what she loved to tell herself--and even if they grow apart as they get older, Hermione will always love Ginny until she reached her own grave.

Days have passed since Ron had that dream on top of the astronomy tower.

"Hey, Seamus! Have you seen--" Ron turned a corner from the charms classroom, only to be greeted by the sight of Dean and Seamus snogging in the halls. "Nevermind." Ron grumbled, watching as his two roommates flew into a fury of panic at being caught being intimate.

He was happy for his friends, really! But that was the fourth time this week he's accidentally walked in to seen his friends snogging each other--first, it was Ginny and Hermione, Harry and Malfoy--two times--and now Dean and Seamus. Ron also wants someone to love him, but he was pathetically fawning over someone else at the moment. How stupid did it sound? Falling for someone who barely acknowledges your existence.

The night he dreamed of on the astronomy tower always came back to bite him in his dreams once more, or when he was spacing out in between classes. Ron grabbed a fistful of his growing red hair and tugged on it, he was, by all means pathetic--and frankly, having reoccurring dreams about someone else was just both embarrassing and humiliating.

There was something else, too.

It wasn't just the persisting dream about Zabini that was bothering him--Ron was having dreams--or visions of things he's never seen before. It was very, very weird. These things he's seeing, Ron has no idea what or who they are, nor where they originated.

Ron saw someone in a cave, seemingly guarding something--before something emerged from the lake surrounding that person, it dragged them in and they drowned. It was stupid, yet Ron can't figure out why he was seeing such things. And to make things more difficult, it was a vision he saw after accidentally brushing his fingers on a book of the history of dark magic.

He wasn't looking to become a dark wizard at all, it's just that the book was near the ones about transfiguration. Ron also had no clue why it was there in the first place, when books like these were usually kept in the restricted section.

With much hesitation, Ron took the book without Madam Pince knowing and was currently hiding it inside his trunk. He didn't want to believe he was doing it because he was interested in the dark arts, more like he wanted to know who the person in his...vision was. It was odd, it was very unusual--because this person looked very familiar, but Ron couldn't wrap his head around who.

Would it be weird to say Ron had drawn one particular scene in that vision? He hid it in-between the pages of the dark magic book. He shakily unfolded the paper and stared at it. Someone was holding a locket--which Ron identified as Salazar Slytherin's locket in his vision, he assumed someone had stolen it, though he's not sure who possessed it before being stolen.

The locket of Salazar Slytherin was one of the belongings of the four Hogwarts founders, which Ron is assuming was passed down to Slytherin's descendants. If this person had it, could they be related to Slytherin?

The lines to his drawing were shaky, and done in a hurry--in the center of the cave stood a man--someone with short curly hair and shadowed eyes, the water monsters claws dug into a concrete, just below the man's feet. Ron felt his heartbeat race inhumanly when he stared at it harder, it made him feel...odd.

Who was this person?

They looked unusually familiar--and Ron can't understand--why would this person show up in a weird vision he had after touching a book on the dark arts? Ron doesn't know if he was looking into too hard, it probably meant nothing, after all.

"Hey, mate." Harry whispered over his shoulder, making Ron snap out of his thoughts and pay attention to his best mate.

Ron smiled softly, "Harry! No Hermione today?" He looked around, and saw no sign of his other best friend--which wasn't unusual these days, she was always with Ginny or had her nose stuck in a book.

"Nope, she's with Ginny." Sounds about right. "Sirius floo-called me today, with...some new information." Harry's tone suddenly turned gleeful, making Ron raise a suspicious brow at that.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked, he watched as Harry shifted slightly, holding his books closer to his chest and grinning. "Is it anything bad?"

"He's finally getting a trial." Harry cheerfully said, his eyes watered and looked like glistening orbs--Ron couldn't fight back the smile on his lips. "The ministry and the Wizengamot approved his trial--after thirteen years, Ron!"

Ron hugged Harry, chuckling. "A trial? Bloody hell, that's amazing!" He felt like he was on liquid luck, Ron had been so afraid of Sirius Black just a year ago, and him throwing spells at Scabbers back then didn't really help--well, until Sirius was proven innocent after Scabbers transformed into Pettigrew, eugh.

Sirius--wait a damn minute.

"Ron, you alright?" Harry's questioned, but Ron couldn't quite register what his best mate just said. The invisible dots in his head started to connect, the hair, the face--

How could he have been so stupid?

The reason why the man in his vision--or hallucination--seemed so familiar was because that person looked like Sirius. Ron needs to talk to Sirius--he didn't know how to explain the sea monsters dragging his look-alike and drowning him, though.

"I'm all right." Ron said, hoping his tone seemed convincing enough, though judging by the disgruntled look on Harry's face, it wasn't. "Do you happen to know where Sirius is staying right now? You know, now that he's having a trial."

"It's...12 Grimmauld Place, why are you asking?" Harry squinted his green eyes at Ron, obviously trying to figure out whatever the hell he was thinking about. But Ron didn't know how to just casually tell his bestfriend that he was seeing visions of someone who looked like Sirius.

"Ron, what's going on? Are you planning to visit Sirius right now?" 

Ron huffed appreciatively, "You're the best, Harry--I just needed to ask him something." He beamed at Harry, putting on his best act of being 'fine', before running away back to the dorms.

"We still have history of magic!" He heard Harry yell from across the corridors, but Ron was simply too distracted to care about something like history of magic.

Ron wasn't sure who had a fireplace around here for the floo network, Ron cursed himself internally for not thinking this through before storming into this thing with barely any plan. The only ones who had a fireplace were the teachers--Snape would take five-hundred points off for simply asking, McGonagall wouldn't let him.

Ah. Screw it.

He was a Gryffindor, wasn't he?

The only connected fireplace in Hogwarts was the headmasters, and no one could use it unless goven permission by Dumbledore himself! Bollocks--what should he tell Dumbledore in order to gain access to his fireplace?

Should he just be honest with Dumbledore?

Ron didn't know, would Dumbledore call him insane or send him to Madam Pomfrey to check for any lingering mental instability? Screw it--he was heading to the headmasters office.

Ron marched his way to Dumbledore's office, a million thoughts running through his head. The visions came so suddenly, perhaps he had a knack for divination after all.

While he strode through the halls, accidentally bumping shoulders with a few students, but he couldn't care less--not until he had put his hand on the doorway to Dumbledore's office that he felt a sharp, tingling sense in his head--making his head snap upwards.

"What the--" Ron dropped his head, looking around the place, he was still in front of the headmaster's office, just--it suddenly looked different. Where was he? Dumbledore's office door was slightly different, it looked...older.

Before he could do anything else, he flinched when another hand appeared to be touching the headmaster's door--it was a face he didn't recognize. It was a tall boy, who was probably in his sixth year, he had wavy hair and a handsome face. He was holding a small box in his hands with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Tom Riddle!" Ron turned his head around and spotted a young first-year Hufflepuff beaming at the boy--Tom Riddle. Must be one of Tom Riddle's fans.

Tom Riddle smiled, though Ron could tell it was forced. "Hello." He slightly shifted his arms, and what Ron saw made him even more confused. The little Hufflepuff boy asked what Tom Riddle was holding, but was quickly dismissed by him.

Ron's eyes widened when he saw the crest on the box, it was the Ravenclaw crest. This must be another vision--it was like when he touched the book about the dark arts and saw the Sirius look-alike. Who was this person? Ron's eyes squinted when he spotted the prefect badge place proudly on the boy's chest, a Slytherin.

Ron's chest tightened--this is the person from the diary--this was Voldemort before he turned into..well, Voldemort. This was the scumbag who almost killed his little sister over a dumb diary.

The boy's hand left the headmaster's door and strode away from the office, he was holding the box with Ravenclaw's crest closely to his chest, partially concealing it with his robes.

Ron followed him.

The boy did a detour around the castle, the suddenly halting in front of a wall. Ron grew curiouser by the second, watching the boy with calculating eyes. The boy stared at the wall for a few seconds, before closing his eyes and mumbling something.

"I need a place for safekeeping."  the boy whispered, Ron gaped as the plain wall formed a door--Ron hurriedly slipped inside when the boy did. He couldn't believe his eyes, it was a room with mountains, and stacks of things, like decades-old treasures and sparkling golden and diamond jewelry.

The box chuckled lightly. "That was easy, thank you, Helena." The boy said, and despite him thanking 'Helena' his tone was mocking. For a second, Ron had no idea who Helena was, before his mind flashed to the the symbol of Ravenclaw on the box and a certain page on his history of magic textbook.

This person was referring to Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter, Helena Ravenclaw. She was the one who stole Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.

Ron stepped forward, gritting his teeth. He reached his hand out to the box in the boy's hands, Ron stared with pursed lips as the world around him dissolved into black goo.

He blinked, before being greeted by the headmaster and Snape looming over him, they were saying something Ron couldn't make out, though he could see Snape's lips move to call for Madam Pomfrey.

Ron sat up, blinking multiple times and trying to process what he had just seen. He briefly ignored and tuned out the questions both of his professors were asking him--after a minute or so, Ron turned to Dumbledore and just stared--he needed to get away from here--screw the bloody fireplace.

"Sorry--I was on--uh, nevermind!" Ron squawked embarrassingly, he pushed himself out of Snape and Dumbledore's hands, before promptly standing up and running away.

"Weasley!" Snape called out to him loudly, but Ron didn't turn around. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor!"

When Ron ran back to his dorm, he first asked Madam Pomfrey to write him up to excuse him from the rest of his classes this evening.

"Mister Weasley, your face." Madam Pomfrey said, staring at his face--particularly his eyes and nose. Ron tilted his head in confusion, before Madam Pomfrey shook her head and used magic to conjure a flying mirror.

Ron stared at himself--"Oh. What the fuck." Madam Pomfrey reprimanded him for his language, but Ron couldn't care less. His eyes--he was crying blood and bleeding black down his nose? He swiped the black ink from his nose, it felt exactly like blood--just didn't look like a human's blood

Oh, Merlin.

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey." Ron insisted when he saw her grab medication. "Can you just--excuse me from classes today? I'm sure this is just from stress."

"Mister Weasley, I am the mediwitch here, aren't I? Bleeding blood from your eyes and black ink from your nose is not normal." Madam Pomfrey insisted, scoffing at Ron continuously insisting he was fine and needed to return to his dorm.

Despite Ron's protests, Madam Pomfrey cleaned him and checked his body for anything wrong with him. "Perfectly healthy." Madam Pomfrey drawled, not sounding convinced. "You have some mental strain, though--don't stay up late too much." With a flick of her wand, in Ron's hands appeared a box of tissues. "Use these if it starts again, i'm going to have to study the blood tears."

Ron nodded. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey. Uhm, please--don't tell anyone." He knew he was about to be the victim of suspicion if anyone every found out besides Madam Pomfrey, although Dumbledore and Snape have already seen him like this--better for them to not know the cause--which Ron is guessing is from his visions.

"Patient confidentiality, mister Weasley." She put her hands on her hips. "The only time I will speak about your condition and records in the infirmary is if you are on the verge of death."

Ron smiled, sighing. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." The mediwitch nodded.

"You don't have to worry about anything--oh, and if your cycle starts, come to me for sanitary pads--okay? We don't want a repeat of last year." Ron flushed deeply, bobbing his head along to her words. "Okay, you're free to go now, mister Weasley."

The reason why Ron trusted Madam Ponfrey so much was because, she knew a lot about him, his birth gender, and now, the tears of blood. "Thank you!" Ron yelled before leaving the infirmary.

The walk to his dorms were silent, which was a little off-putting. When Ron finally reached his dorm, he slumped on his bed and groaned loudly--now that he was the only one in the room currently, he could be as loud as he wanted.

He could send Sirius a letter asking if he had any family members who were killed by some water ghosts, it was a really unusual thing to ask your best friend's godfather, but Ron wanted answers to whatever the hell he was seeing.

Night time was already approaching. Harry came back to the dorms and asked about Ron's wellbeing, before being dragged away by Nott to the library, they were apparently partnered up for a study about potions due in two days. Hermione was with Greengrass, while Ron was excused from the assignment--which was a little shocking coming from Snape, but after Snape had seen him crying out blood earlier...probably not so shocking.

When Dean and Seamus came back, they apologized for what he saw in the corridor, and Ron brushed it off--he felt like he needed to get used to it soon enough.  Harry came back to the dorms at around nine, and passed out on his bed while mumbling something about Potions being the cause of his death--which honestly, was understandable.

Even when midnight passed, Ron still couldn't sleep. He was scared of seeing anything else unknown to him, it could be about the visions or the astronomy tower, the latter didn't sound so bad--but Ron would rather not see it anymore, it was making him selfish. The more he kissed Zabini in his dreams the more possessive he got, it would hurt, to one day see Zabini get a girlfriend or something.

Though, at the same time, Ron never wanted the dream to end--it was what he wanted right now, it was what he craved.

Ron knew it would be painful to keep this going, that one day they would both graduate without as much as a word to the other--Ron knew he would be in agony for a long time, he knew it was dangerous to let his dreams and wants run wild, because what he imagined is what he wanted to become his new reality.

When Ron was finally able to get a peep of sleep, he still saw Zabini's face.

"You're here, again." Ron whispered, feeling the tears well in his eyes. The fake Zabini smirked, his almond eyes staring at Ron in his bed, tired.

The fake Zabini got closer to him, before leaning forward and lying down beside Ron. His bed was a little too small for two people, so they were both squished together. "You look happy." Ron scoffed.

"How so?" He asked, watching the other boy's eyes for a reaction.

"You just do."

For the rest of the night, Ron kept his eyes on Zabini, before eventually falling asleep. He knew this one was another dream, but letting go was hard, Ron knew this wasn't healthy, the dreams were like poison.

A poison that he willingly drinks.

The third and final Triwizard competition has finally come. Ron was on the bleachers, right next to Ginny and Hermione while Malfoy was on Ron's other side with Zabini right beside him.

It was getting a little dark by the time the challenge was starting. Harry looked nervous, nervously pacing around in his spot while Fleur was chuckling and telling Harry to calm his nerves, though she herself was nervous--just better at hiding it.

"I'm scared for him." Hermione says lowly, "The maze is said to be the hardest." She exclaimed, Ludo Bagman, who was speaking with a voice-enhancement charm highlighted the difficulty of this task earlier.

Whenever he saw Bagman, all Ron wanted to do was punch his face in for kidnapping him during the previous challenge.

Ginny pat her shoulder assuringly. "He's Harry Potter, he's already survived through many other dangerous stuff--if he could get pass those, he can pass this as well."

"Hopefully." Ron chimed in, unsure. He had a weird feeling that something was going to happen--he just didn't know what. The feeling was eating him alive, this was the only time Ron wished he'd have a vision.

Another thing he found out about his visions, was that he could only see things that have already happened--which bummed him out a bit, seeing the future would have been amazing. But seeing the past was cool too, even though he doesn't understand why he had this ability.

The cannon fired and the champions ran into the forest, with Harry getting a forty-five second headstart for placing first in the lake challenge, then the other three champions followed suit.

Since no one else but the champions could enter the forest, the spectators were left to their own stuff while waiting for the results. Ron was just begging for his gut-instinct to be completely wrong, even though every second his spine shivered. It wasn't snowing. There was a large screen in the middle, with a spread-out view of inside the forest.

Fleur was already being attacked by a Skrewt, Ron winced when he saw how it ambushed and attacked her. Fleur held out for a few minutes before being saved by Harry--though they both ended up going their own ways after. The screen was useless after a few minutes when the champions went deeper into the forest.

The others were talking but Ron couldn't comprehend anything they said. He couldn't shake off the feeling of something being wrong, he hated it--He even felt the professors keeping their eyes on him. It seems like Snape and Dumbledore have already told them about his...accident. It was uncomfortable knowing you were being watched by every staff member.

Ron bit the inside of his cheek, before he was thrown in another vision. He hadn't even touched anything like how his previous ones were activated--so, how?

He was no longer on the bleachers, but inside the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom. Ron looked around, feeling sweat drip from his forehead--why was he in here of all places?

"Shit." He heard a loud curse from behind him, Ron spun around and saw Professor Moody walking funnily inside the classroom. The thing was, Moody didn't really have Moody's face--It was...half Moody and half someone else.

Before Ron could react, Moody stumbled inside a door and grabbed a potion from a stack of trays with empty glass bottles. Ron knew what the potion was, it was the same potion he used back in second year.

The Polyjuice Potion.

Moody groaned painfully before the effects of the potion wore off, Ron gasped in both shock and fear. The person standing in front of him wasn't Alastor Moody, but the criminal in Azkaban--Barty Crouch Jr! Ron remembers seeing his face in the newspaper when he was very young.

Their new teacher wasn't Moody, it was Crouch Jr! How in the hell did a deatheater escape Azkaban of all plaves and make it inside Hogwarts? Where was the real Mad-Eye Moody? Ron had a dozen questions running around his mind--oh God, Crouch Jr was coming for Harry. He was coming for his best friend!

His vision ended when Mood-Barty Crouch Jr chugged down the bottle of Polyjuice potion  and became Mad-Eye moody again. When he returned to reality, Hermione was staring at him--terrified.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, "You--Your eyes.."

Shit.

In a panic, Ron's hands flew to his eyes, and he felt the liquid touch his palms--he didn't need to sneak a peek to know it was the same blood tears from five days ago.

"Weasley?" It was Zabini this time. "Why in merlin are you crying blood? And your nose..."

"I'm sorry." Ron mumbled, Zabini seemed confused by what he meant, but quickly understood when Ron pushed him away and ran down the bleachers with his hands still on his eyes--he stumbled and tripped everywhere. Ginny and Hermione were calling after him, and Malfoy was helping Zabini get up.

Of course it pained him to hurt others, but he was unable to think straight at the moment.

Ron took a peek out of his hands just to make sure Dumbledore was there. 'Moody' was rught beside him, "Professor, I need to a word." By then, Ron gave up trying to hide his face and was on display for the professors, he had his back turned against the crowd, so they couldn't see.

"...Certainly, My boy." Dumbledore said, a hint of suspicion rolling off his tongue. "Severus, come along." Ron was wary of Snape, but it wasn't like he could tell Snape off.

Ron was aware of the stares, but he literally could not find a single care to give. His two professors led him to a corner, Snape put up a silencing charm and then Ron finally spoke.

"Professor Moody is Barty Crouch Jr."

Dumbledore stared at him, "I beg your pardon?"

"I know this is going to sound weird, i-i'm not insane--but i've been having these visions." Ron explained. "Just a few minutes ago I was pulled into another one of my visions, I clearly saw Moody become  Barty Crouch Jr, then he drank a polyjuice potion and turned back into Moody."

Snape paused. "Polyjuice potion?" Ron nodded, "Someone has been stealing boomslang skin and lacewing flies from my storage." Those were...ingredients of a Polyjuice potion! 

"...Well, now we know who has been stealing from your storage, Severus." Dumbledore said, "Mr Weasley, when did these visions start?"

Ron swallowed, "Six days ago." He admitted, feeling Snape's eyes on him.

"When you fainted in front of Albus' office..."

"I had a vision."

Dumbledore stroke his beard and sighed, "The only explanation is that this could be your magical inheritance." He explained, "Someone from your bloodline had this ability before, and now it has passed down to one of his descendants."

Ron gaped at him--a magical inheritance was extremely rare, same as a creature inheritance. How could something so uncommon be passed down on him of all his siblings? Sure, he inherited it but wouldn't it be better if anyone else got it? Someone more talented, perhaps.

"That could be it." Snape agreed, "I had assumed Potter and his friends stole from my storage, a mistake on my part."

"What happens to Mood--Croucy Jr now?" Ron found himself asking, watching the faces of his professors for answers.

Dumbledore hummed, as calm and composed as ever. "I am unsure. Azkaban reported that Crouch Jr has passed in his cell, but your vision confirms that he hasn't. Mr Weasley, if you could recount everything you saw..." He gestured for Ron to tell them everything, and he was a little baffled they believed him.

Ron told them everything. The classroom, the polyjuice potion and Moody reverting back to Crouch Jr. If he didn't hurry and convince his professors to formulate a plan, Harry could be in serious danger-- but before Ron could anything else, his head snapped up and he was pulled in another vision.

"Damn it." Ron mumbled, taking in his surroundings. He was inside a cell, an Azkaban cell to be more precise. "Azkaban."

Ron turned his head to corner of the cell when he heard the mumblings of someone--Barty Crouch Jr.

He looked insane, who wouldn't go insane inside Azkaban, after all? Ron saw the dementors right outside Crouch Jr.'s cell, though they did not notice him, since he wasn't actually there. Barty Jr.'s mumblings got louder, and more incoherent.

Ron squinted his eyes at him, the darkness clouding his vision slightly. Barty Jr looked very young, though--as young as eighteen or nineteen. "Evan." He mumbled, covering his ears as he repeated that one specific name. Ron...had no idea who Evan was.

"Evan. Evan. Evan." Barty Jr chanted the name like a prayer.

"Son." Ron flinched when someone loudly whispered while clutching the bars of Barty Jr's cell. "Oh, my son." The woman weeped, this must be Barty Jr's mother. The resemblance was uncanny.

Barty Jr didn't reply for a long time, it took a few minutes before he finally looked at his mother on the other side of the cell. "Mother?" He said quietly, afraid. "Have you come for me?"

"Bartemius, you must do something." Mrs Crouch begged ber husband, whom Ron didn't register was right beside her. "Please, save our son--you put him in here!" The story of Crouch Sr and his son was quite famous--Crouch Sr had sentenced his son to Azkaban without a second thought.

Crouch Sr stayed silent, before pulling something out of his bag. "This..." It was a polyjuice potion.

"I will take our son's place." Mrs Crouch said in-between tears, "Take him out of his cell, i'll take his place." Crouch Sr hesitated, and after some back and forth, he agreed.

Ron watched the scene unfold in front of him with shock. He watched as Barty Jr drank the potion and became his mother, while his mother became him, she slipped inside the cell just as Crouch Jr left.

The vision ended there. Ron woke up with even more blood swimming down his eyes and more of the blood liquid down his nose, what the fuck.

"Weasley!" Snape made his voice louder, it was like that time outside of Dumbledore's office-- Snape and Dumbledore were staring at him, his head was on Snape's leg. "What did you see?"

Ron stayed silent for a few seconds, before he sat up and calmed himself down. "Barty Jr's mother drank a polyjuice potion and took her son's place, she died in Azkaban, not Barty Jr."

"Well, shit." Snape mumbled. "Albus, what should we do?"

"We need to apprehend him." Dumbledore said sternly. "We cannot allow Barty Crouch Jr to hurt the students. Severus, get Minerva. She ought to know everything, considering Mister Weasley is one of her lions, after all." Snape nodded, before disappearing back into a stadium.

The headmaster helped him stand up, just in time before Professor McGonagall rushed inside. "Where is Weasley?" She asked immediately, laying eyes on Ron--he probably looked a mess right now.

"Professor." He said, "Uh..."

"I will explain everything to her, my boy." Dumbledore asserted, and Ron instantly felt relieved when he did. Dumbledore told Professor McGonagall everything while Snape checked him for injuries, Ron felt awkward that Snape of all people was checking him of all people--can't it be Madam Pomfrey instead?

"...If Crouch Jr has taken Alastor's place, then where is the actual Alastor Moody? Oh, merlin." Ron froze, well--he did not think about that possibility. "Weasley, are you alright?"

"Yes, Professor." He said, just in time for Snape to scoff.

"He is not okay mentally, and whatever liquid he's bleeding from his nose is most definitely not normal." Ron wanted to punch Snape.

Dumbledore spoke up, "A deatheater has infiltrated Hogwarts, he must have ill will towards Mr Potter. Minerva--"

But before Dumbledore could say anything else, a loud cheer came from the bleachers, screams that loud could only mean that someone has returned already. Ron's eyes widened, he wiggled out of Snape's hold and ran outside, not even Snape could yell at him, as even the three teachers went outside after him.

"Harry." Ron whispered, his lips parted in shock when he saw Harry carrying Cedric Diggory's blood body. "Harry!" Ron yelled, rushing forward.

Harry was sobbing, "He's back--Voldemort has returned!" Harry yelled loud enough for everyone to hear, by then, many have noticed Diggory in Harry's hold and stopped cheering. "He isn't dead yet, but he could be if he isn't treated!"

"Harry--Oh merlin." Malfoy jumped down from the stands when he couldn't go down due to the crowd, he landed with a softening charm. "Diggory--"

Ron could hear Hermione's voice from the bleachers, "Madam Pomfrey--get her!"

"My son!" Amos Diggory yelled, "That's my son!"

What a terrible night.

Diggory lived. Harry was standing beside his bed, watching as Madam Pomfrey casted more healing charms on Diggory's unconscious body. "Cedric." He mumbled.

"It was thanks to your quick thinking that he is still alive right now, Potter." Madam Pomfrey said, placing her hand on Diggory's forehead. "He will be okay, Mr Diggory will be transported to Saint Mungo's today."

When Madam Pomfrey left, Ron could only place his hand on Harry's shoulder as a way to console him. "He is alive, that's all that matter."

"It was because of my idiocy that he was hurt--If I took the cup for myself, Cedric wouldn't have--" Ron hugged him.

Barty Crouch Jr was caught right after Harry returned to the bleachers. Professor Snape told him that Barty Jr was sentenced to a dementor's kiss and had his soul sucked out. Good. Ron hated that he wasn't able to see anything regarding Harry, he felt so fucking guilty.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was found in a chest, stripped of his clothes and has been trapped down there for almost a year. Ron was swarmed with questions about the whole 'crying blood' and 'bleeding black ink' from his nose, but after a firm scolding from the professors, it stopped. All the professors were made aware of his ability, and Ron has told only his best friends, no one else.

The students were going back for summer just four days after Cedric Diggory almost died, they were all permitted to go home for immediately. Harry was coming with him to the burrow as usual, and so was Hermione, since her parents were out of town. Ron was a little nervous to be heading home, since Bill and Charlie sent a letter, they were staying home for another few weeks.

Mom would be insufferable once they come home, and Ron won't be able to take her talking about their achievements any longer. Ron managed to drag Harry out of the infirmary to pack their things things up to leave. They saw Hermione in the common room, things packed. When she saw them both, she said nothing, she only stood up and pulled them both into a hug.

They were at the point of their friendship where words weren't needed to understand each other. "Thirsty? Daphne brought over pumpkin juice from the kitchens."

"Sure. Thanks, 'Mione." Harry replied, a soft smile gracing his lips. He hadn't smiled since Diggory. Malfoy popped out from behind them, Harry gave him the password a week ago.

Harry's smile got brighter when he saw Malfoy, Malfoy held Harry's hands and kissed them. "Are you alright, Love?" He whispered, in which Harry lightly chuckled and hugged him.

Ron has never liked Malfoy, but seeing how he brought the light back to Harry's eyes made his chest warm. He wouldn't be on Malfoy's arse anymore as long as he treated Harry right. Ginny coughed loudly from behind Malfoy. "Get a room."

Harry's cheeks flushed as Malfoy pulled him outside, most likely to the dungeons. Harey hadn't even packed yet, Ron rolled his eyes, but let them be. He could just use a spell to pack Harry's things, it was the least Ron could do.

Ron left the common room after seeing Hermione and his little sister peck each other's lips, he did not want to be the witness of such...things. "Ah--Zabini." Ron was surprised to see Zabini standing outside of Gryffindor tower.

"Weasley."

For a second, all of Ron's dreams came rushing back to him in that moment, the sleepless nights he spent thinking about Zabini-- "I'm sorry for pushing you that day."

"It's fine." Zabini waved his hand. "I just wanted to speak to you, face to face."

"Sure." Ron said. "What did you want to talk about?" He said it as calmly as he could, he begged the gods that Zabini was unable to hear how fast his heart was racing in his chest.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened between us this year and even before." Zabini said, making Ron's eyes widen. "For the quidditch thing, calling you a blood traitor and calling Granger a mudblood. I know it isn't an excuse, but I've finally opened my eyes to what i've been believing this whole time and realized how wrong it was."

Ron was speechless for a few seconds, he was trying to process everything at once. "I understand if you still think i'm not being serious, just..I won't be the same person as I was anymore, I promise that."

"It's not that I don't think you're taking this seriously." Ron said. "Just shocked, never really expected this.

Zabini chuckled--Ron had to physically stop himself from throwing up because of the butterflies in his stomach. "Sounds like me--I never liked admitting my faults, but It's different now. I think meeting you changed that."

Before Ron could him to elaborate on what the last part meant, Zabini beat him to it. "If it's possible...could we exchange letters over the summer?" Ron choked on air when he heard it--exchange letter?!

"Oh--uh..Sure!" Ron exclaimed, a little too loudly it made him embarrassed. "And don't worry about the past--I forgive you. I think i'll still hate you for calling my best friend a, you know..but sure, we can exchange letters over the summer." He didn't miss the way Zabini's face lit up, the previous shyness and awkwardness from earlier vanished.

"Thank you...for forgiving me, I know I don't deserve it--I'm still working on becoming a better person, but thank you...Weasley."

"You can call me Ron, if you want."

Zabini smirked, "If I am to call you Ron, then I insist you call me Blaise...Ron." Ron grinned.

"Alright then, Blaise." He felt his heart flutter when he said it--were they friends now? Ron never imagined getting this far, he's always thought of them both staying enemies for the rest of their lives--but this...it isn't so bad.

They parted ways after that, perhaps they might meet on the Hogwarts express, but who knows? Ron smirked when Zabin-Blaise was gone, he was getting worse--he never expected for Blaise to have such an inpact on him. Even now, his mind wanders to a few minutes earlier, when Blaise's name rolled off his tongue, and Ron's name out of his.

He was really in too deep, wasn't he?

Unfortunately, they didn't meet on the Hogwarts express. Even though his friends had partners, they've always had the tradition of staying in the same cart until they graduate Hogwarts.

Harry bought a lot of snacks from the cart, he was devouring treacle tarts while Ron had pumpkin pasties. Hermione didn't really have a sweet tooth and didn't get anything from the cart. As usual, she was reading, something called 'the Well of Loneliness.'

They didn't speak much, just enjoyed the ride back home. All three of them were going to be staying in the burrow, they would have to be squished inside the house, but nonetheless, Ron was glad to have his friends with him through the summer.

The minister of magic had released a statement just earlier, he denied everything Harry said about Voldemort and frankly, called Harry a liar. Many believed Harry, considering that Crouch Jr was a deatheater, but some believed Fudge. Nothing can be confirmed, but perhaps after Diggory wakes up and confirms it, Harry can be free of the people calling him a liar.

He thought of his promise with Zab-Blaise, they would be exchanging letters over the summer, which sent Ron over the moon. They were practically strangers before that encounter, Ron was glad they were finally...would friends be too quick? Regardless, he would finally be able to know Blaise personally, find out his personality, his likes and dislikes, and everything else.

Fourth year was interesting, to say the least.

Chapter Text

Summer started off a little bland, but at the same time, not so boring..

Percy has sent Ron a letter. Really, other than occasionally speaking to dad, Percy was really only in constant contact with Ron. Mom wouldn't be too happy to hear about Percy, she was already very furious when he 'left' the family to climb the ministry ranks. Not like Ron could correct her.

Anyways, Percy was coming home for dinner tonight, Ron can already guess the shit show Percy's appearance will most definitely cause, and Ron also knows Percy will finally be introducing his longterm boyfriend--Oliver Wood to mom and dad. Ron saw it in another vision, the conversation Percy and Oliver had in their shared bedroom, what really intrigued Ron was the matching silver rings on their fingers as they held hands.

Mom would have thrown Percy out of the window if he still lived at the burrow, honestly. 

The visions used to appear when he touched specific things, like the dark history book, and the headmaster's door. Now? It came randomly--it was ruining  him daily, every hour, and every minute. Ron couldn't live normally anymore, and it was affecting him--insanely. It was too much.

He couldn't even eat downstairs with the rest of his friends and family, Ron was too scared of the possibilities--of having a vision mid bite.

And he was told by Harry that he looked like he was as being possessed while he was in a trance. Ron's head would snap upwards with his eyes open and unblinking, blood would then run down his eyes and then his noise--what Ron can't figure out is; why is the blood from his nose black? He just assumes it might be because of the magical inheritance.

He has never wanted to gauge his own eyes out so much.

Hermione was starting to get worried, after he told her about his magical inheritance, she stated that she didn't care about some extraordinary magic thing, but rather his wellbeing. Which honestly made Ron smile, genuinely for the first time in two days.

Ron debated on how to tell his parents, but everything he thought of just resulted in him getting kicked out, or used. Summer started a week and a half ago, and Diggory finally broke out of his coma four days ago. The poor guy was swarmed by journalists, he refused to answer anything--only one thing.

"You-Know-Who is back."

That pretty much summed everything up. The words coming from golden boy Cedric Diggory's lips were the breaking point for the ministry, Fudge was attacked and humiliated for denying everything and allowing false hope, the fall of the minister's influence freed Percy a bit more. Although Percy was in some...group to expose the current government of magic, another thing Ron had a vision about.

He met a man in a black clad hood, recruiting him to fight off the ministry's corruption. Ron saw everything, from the shaming of hands and Percy reporting to the mysterious man, who Ron later learned was a curse breaker.

Ron studied--yes, studied about magical inheritances and actually opened more than two books for research. His inheritance was called 'Retrocognition', althought there was one confusing thing--another thing he read about, but his earlier ability was 'Psychometry' before developing into 'Retrocognition'. He wrote to Dumbledore about it, and he simply stated that his ability was becoming stronger.

It was hard to believe--that someone like him, the second youngest Weasley, would inherit such a useful thing of all his exceptional siblings. It made Ron both nervous and unnerved, did someone from his bloodline really possess such a power? The last powerful seer was Cassandra Trelawney, Professor Trelawney's ancestor. Woah, could he actually have some of the Trelawney blood? Nevermind, it sounded ridiculous--eugh.

Professor McGonagall has already explained to him about the possible dangers and threats he could face if the enemy found out about his magical inheritance, because, anyone who has visions are highly sought after...mostly deatheaters. Snape mentioned that Bellatrix Lestrange once kidnapped someone whom she suspected to be a seer, torturing that person for information about Voldemort. The thought of torture made Ron shiver, he hated pain.

For now, after replying to Percy, Ron checked over his other letters. He had to stop himself from freaking out when Blaise sent his first letter to Ron. It was enchanted with the Zabini family crest, no one except the recipient could open the letter without permission.

Ron stared at the letter for a long time, he brushed his fingers across the paper, it was a little sudden when Blaise suggested writing to each other, but Ron had his head in the clouds at that time.

To Ron,

Hello, Ron. How has your summer been so far? I know it's been barely two weeks, but I am a little curious.

I contemplated for some time about what to write, I don't want to disappoint you--but I fear my writing skills...suffer. I'm not a very good writer or talker. Apologies.. I would tell you about my day, but It is very boring.

Which is why i'm asking, how is your summer, currently?

PS: don't worry about the owl, it's my family owl, charmed with magic so no one can peek at our letters.

From, Blaise.

It was a very simple letter, yet Ron can't help but feel warmth spread across his chest. It was nice to know Blaise was actually making an effort to write, even if the other insists his skills in writing suffer. Ron stared at the owl standing outside the window, it had fluffy brown-white feathers with stern eyes.

To Blaise,

My summer so far has been a little...boring, if i'm being honest.

Harry and Hermione are staying at my house for the summer. Hermione's parents are out of town to visit an old relative, which is why she's here. Harry has been a little miserable at not being able to meet Malfoy yet--it is getting ridiculous! Ridiculous, I tell you.

Those two can't bear to be separated for more than two weeks. It's making me ill. Ginny and Hermione are just constantly staring at each other and flirting, our parents don't know. I feel like a fifth wheel in this house. And now, with my older brother bringing his partner home for my sister's birthday, I fear I will become a seventh wheel.

I'm doing alright, how about you? We ARE friends now, aren't we? Write to me often, I will reply as fast as I can.

I apologize if I talk too much.

PS: sorry(x2) for pushing you down the bleachers! I saw Malfoy say in a letter to Harry that you had bruised your shoulder.

From, Ron.

After going over the letter over a hundred times, Ron finally deemed it acceptable to send. He stamped the letter and gave it to owl, Ron watched from his spot as the owl flew away to give his letter to Blaise.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Ron flinched, turning around to see one of his twin brothers on the staircase, he had his arms crossed with a smug grin. "Or, perhaps a boyfriend?"

Ron stared at his brother, for some reason, it seemed like inheriting the gift of retrocognition gave him better eyesight. And he was being serious. Ron was never able to tell his older twin brothers apart, especially when they switched their sweather to make telling them apart more difficult. But Ron could see it, the bump on George's nose and the more defined cupid's bow. In contrast to Fred's straighter nose and less defined cupid's bow.

It was strange Ron could see it so clearly from a distance.

"George." Ron said, watching with profound smugness when his older brother's eyes widened--shocked that Ron knew which twin he was.

George chuckled light, sliding down the stairs and walking over to Ron. "My dearest little brother, I wasn't able to trick you, this time."

"Do you need anything?"

"Nope, just wanted to come down for quiet time, I didn't know you were already awake." George huffed, ruffling Ron's semi-long hair and making it messier than it already was. "So...boyfriend or girlfriend?"

Ron's cheeks turned pink. "A friend. A boy." He admitted, George scanned him from head to toe and hummed.

"Geez, you aren't getting any taller." Ron gasped, offended. His older brother laughed, and only then did Ron notice how much taller George was than him. "You're growing into your looks, handsome--though not as much as I."

The younger rolled his eyes, playfully punching his brother's shoulder. "You wish." He said, smirking. Although he was happy that George said handsome instead of...pretty, he's had enough of mom already. "And..I got to warn 'ya, Percy is coming home today. There might be a shit-show."

"...You and Percy still talk?" George asked, confused. He stared at his little brother, a little bit reluctant. "Since when?"

"I do. And to answer your other question, since he left." Ron said without missing a beat. "He isn't that far gone, that I can promise you." It wasn't like he could spoil Percy's operation to turn the ministry upside down, no one can know--Ron hated the current magic system, he hopes the operation works.

George shrugged. "Sure." When Percy said he was leaving the house, George was one of the most hurt, he was usually quieter than Fred, but on that day--he screamed louder than everyone. But, his older brother is soft at heart, and Ron knows he would forgive Percy in a heartbeat.

"Where's mom?" Ron questioned, he took one last glance to the window, the owl was finally out of view--he hopes Blaise writes back very soon. "I'm avoiding her right now." George said nothing, though he came out of the pantry with biscuits in hand, he gave Ron the bigger one.

"Still asleep. She gets up at six, it's only half past five right now." He said quietly, a little somber. "If mom steps out of line again..."

Ron smiled, "..Tell you and Fred, plus Charlie and Bill. Don't have to tell Ginny, she would tell her off either way." George has said it multiple times already, their mom was never too accepting of him.

"...Yeah, she might start again once...Percy comes home, you know how she gets."

"I know." Ron said quietly, their mother's temper was...something. "I haven't... Hermione and Harry don't know yet, I don't want them to find out like that." He still told his friends, and honestly? It wasn't like Ron feared their possible reactions, more like he was putting it off for a long time--and by 'a long time', Ron meant almost five years.

George sighed, making coffee with some magic. "You don't have to tell them, little bro'. As long as you're happy and comfortable, you know?" He pat Ron's shoulder lightly, and Ron almost melted when George looked at him so softly, it always made Ron smile when George referred to him as his little brother.

Mom always called him her daughter, even if he says he isn't.

"I want to." He said, "Don't worry too much. How's the shop?"

George's eyes immediately lit up at the mention of the future joke shop he and Fred would establish. "Thanks to Harry's help, we were able to find a good spot on Diagon Alley."

"Don't forget about us once you guys hit it off." Ron said teasingly, watching as George huffed and rolled his eyes.

"We would never!" George exclaimed, hands on his hips as he sipped on his coffee. "Since Harry gave us the money, he's getting any product for free. He is our investor, after all." He added with a chuckle.

"Hey, shouldn't I get a brother discount?" Ron pouted.

George did a long hum, a hand around his chin as he started to think. "Two times the price for you." Ron squawked indignantly. "Kidding! Half discount for our siblings."

"Good." Ron giggled, it's been some time since he's talked to George this long. Their conversations together usually had Fred along, since the twins were practically inseperable. They acted like conjoined twins all the time, it was both ridiculous and hilarious. "I'm goin--"

Once again, Ron couldn't finish his sentence before he was suddenly pulled into that familiar sensation--another vision. Shit, right in front of George? One day, his bones will break from how sudden his head would snap up at the ceiling.

When he snapped his head down, he was, as expected, no longer at the burrow. Ron was...at Hogwarts.

Except he wasn't at Gryffindor tower, but the Slytherin common room. There was a party, as Ron walked forward, he stepped on a banner, that was painted on with all the representative colors of the four houses--'Happy Graduation!' A seventh year party, then? He heard it from Bill and Charlie, that graduation parties were always the wildest.

Ron strode past the students, his body becoming transluscent--it always felt weird when he would just pass someone and they couldn't feel it--because he wasn't really there, in their moment. The music was loud and deafening, he felt his cheeks turn pink with how much saliva exchanging he's seen in just five minutes.

It was a little weird. He just spotted Barty Crouch Jr in the corner of his eye, he was slow-dancing with someone--a bit shorter than Crouch Jr, he had platinum blonde hair and sparkling grey eyes.

"Look at Evan and Crouch, seems like they finally got together." A girl chuckled, sipping from her wine glass. Ron's eyes widened when he actually recognized her, the astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra. Ron loved astronomy, because he liked the stars--though, he never thought he'd see Professor Sinistra as a teenager.

She was and still is very beautiful.

Also, Evan? That was the very name Barty Crouch Jr kept on muttering when he was in Azkaban.

And by Professor Sinistra's words, Ron can safely assume that 'Evan' was Barty Jr's boyfriend.

"It got tiring to see Crouch stare at Evan during every class they shared!" Exclaimed a girl beside younger Professor Sinistra, she didn't look like a Slytherin, more like a Hufflepuff. She had bouncy curly blonde hair and soft blue eyes.

Younger Professor Sinistra huffed, circling the tip of her glass. "He better not hurt Evan. Anyways, Charity--do you know where Reg went? Heard he snuck in."

Charity? Charity Burbage? The current muggle studies professor? Ron only saw Professor Burbage in passing, since he didn't take her class. Was he really going to see every Hogwarts teacher when they were younger?

Not that he was complaining--he was rather curious himself. Ron wanted to see the lives his professors led when they were younger, and frankly, he thinks it would be a little funny to bring up something from their past and frighten them.

"How typical." The young Professor Burbage said. "With Sev. Knowing them, they're probably hiding out on the balcony." Professor Burbage muttered, licking her lips while staring at Professor Sinistra.

Sev?

Ron left the two girls alone when they got very visibly drunk and leaned in too close for his comfort. Ron did not want to see two younger Hogwarts professors make out.

Ron had to physically and mentally force himself through the common room with all the weird noises and loud music, if he was guessing right, 'Sev' was most probably Snape--'Severus'. Plus, he was curious to know who 'Reg' was.

He checked every balcony, and almost shed real, actual tears with how much makeout sessions he's seen. Finally, Ron found a balcony with the curtain slightly pulled open, he took a peek and saw one familiar and another unfamiliar silhouette--jackpot.

Ron could recognize Snape immediately just by the hair--no offense--the young seventeen year-old potions master was smoking on the balcony while his fingers ran through his greasy hair. Damn, he should've known at least one professor smoked. Beside Snape was another Slytherin, though he looked a little bit younger.

"Reg." Snape said rather exasperatedly. Ron inched closer to the duo, he sat on the balcony railings just next to young Snape and observed them closely.

Snape looked like Snape, but 'Reg'...he looked like--no, he was the person from Ron's first vision. Snape knew who this person was?

"I'm just planning on drinking 'til I can't anymore." 'Reg' said, smirking as he lifted his shot, downing it in one go. Ron was both curious and nervous to keep on watching--this person, 'Reg' was important. And if he wanted to save his best friend, who just happened to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Ron needed to gather all that he knows and somehow store it in a pensieve.

He's already accepted days ago, that one day this great inheritance of his would lead him to doom, and if he is, in fact, destined for doom, it was better to leave his memories behind to help the others--or whoever finds his pensieve.

Snape glanced at 'Reg' and scoffed, "Regulus, you aren't even graduating yet." He said. So, 'Reg' was short for Regulus, and is probably a member of the house of Black just by the resemblance to Sirius alone.

Reg was very handsome, he looked like a slightly less-prettier Sirius Black. Though, just because Ron thinks he's less prettier, does not mean he was ugly. This guy was drop-dead gorgeous, just that Sirius looked better.

Ron watches them carefully, carving every detail, every breath, and every movement and etched it in his brain. They talked, they seemed to be very close to each other. They started to talk about Voldemort, which just further confirms his suspicions, they were both deatheaters.

While listening on further, Ron found out that Sirius was kicked out at sixteen for associating with muggles. Ron always knew that Snape held some sort of grudge againt Sirius and Professor Lupin whilst they confronted Pettigrew, and so, Snape's response to Sirius getting kicked out was barely a shocker.

"Fitting. I hate him."

Ron almost laughed.

"He may not be a blood supremacist, but he's still a terrible person, like the rest of the family."

Ouch. It was a terriblly painful thing to say about someone who insists they aren't like the rest of their family, but it was...true. You can't really run away from your bloodline, even if Percy worked hard to not be just 'another Weasley', he was still a Weasley by the end of the day.

Before Ron could listen in more, his vision went black again, after blinking a few times he was finally back at the burrow--where he was being held by George, who was on the verge of tears. Well, nevermind--his tears just spilled out.

"Hey." Ron said.

George stared at him.

"...'Hey'? Are you insane, Ron?"

"A little."

George just stared harder. "What the fuck. What in merlin's beard just happened to you?" He pressed, Ron groaned and sat up with George supporting his back. "You were out for about a minute, I thought you were playing a joke on me for revenge!"

"Sorry." Ron sighed. Shucks. He really wanted to eavesdrop further.

"You're crying blood." His brother deadpanned, eyes trailing the blood seeping from his eyes. Ron wiped them with his fingers like it was normal.

"I know." Ron replied. "Don't...Please don't tell mom, or dad--or anyone."

His older brother's expression suddenly turned serious, he used magic to bring the tissuebox to him, and started to clean Ron's face. "Explain. Now." Ron felt a shiver crawl up his spine, he really wasn't used to seeing George be all serious and not all giggles and shit. "I want every single detail, Ronald Weasley."

Ron pursed his lips, just stared at the wooden floor for a second. He can trust George, right? "Okay, fine." He groaned, eyes looking anywher but George's. "I have a magical inheritance."

"A what?!" George screamed, Ron slapped his hand on his brother's lips. He did not want the entire house to know.

"Be quiet!" Ron whisper-yelled. "Anyways. My magical inheritance makes me randomly see visions from the past, it started a few days before the Triwizard tournament ended."

George gaped at him, unsure of what to say. "Is this a prank." He ended up saying, it wasn't even a question--but rather a statement, a demand. And Ron almost, almost wanted to beat his older brother into the ground.

"Of course not." Ron scoffed. "Who do you think I am?"

"So...are you, like, schizophrenic..."

"I am not crazy." Ron sighed, rolling his eyes. "I almost thought I was, but turns out I was just getting my magical inheritance--though I have no idea why it came to me of all people."

His brother just stared at him for a few seconds, before his eyes softened and he grinned. "You, of all people deserve it." George said, making Ron raise a brow. "I don't think any of us would have used that inheritance well."

"I think anyone could have gotten it and used it better than me." Ron insisted.

George shook his head. "Bill would think it a nuisance, Charlie likes his dragons too much to even bother with it, Percy... probably would have told the family immediately--or something. Freddie and I wouldn't like it, If any of us get these randomly as you say, it might come when we are creating things! As for Ginny, I don't know. But, my point is--you fit this power, you deserve it, little brother."

"I--" Ron words felt dry on his tongue, not knowing what to say to that. He's never given it much thought, just that anyone could have inherited it other than him. "Thank you." Ron finally spoke. "I still don't know about that last part, but i'll try."

George smiled, helping Ron up and ruffling his hair like he was a child. It made Ron's chest warm and his cheeks grow hot. "So, how are you going to hide this from mom and dad? And from the others?"

"I've done it for almost two weeks now, but mom is getting suspicious on why I keep locking myself in the bathroom and staying in Percy's old room." Ron confessed. "It's getting hard--but I don't know what else to do, I'm scared of what mom will say when she finds out. I don't want to be in constant fear of them finding out, but letting anyone else know--even them is dangerous."

His older brother said nothing, his nose scrunched as his expression turned somber. Ron had never really seen any of his twin brothers be so...upset. 

"Hm, mom and dad can't know then, i'll help you hide." Ron exhaled in relief. "If it happens around them, what if I tell them I had you test a...product of ours--some sort of thing that makes...black goo run down your nose?" Ron chuckled, "And the blood from your eyes, is tomato sauce."

"Do you really think they're going to buy the tomato sauce thing?" He scoffed, a grin formed on his lips. "Thanks. Let's save the panicking for when Percy finally arrives." George smirked, once again ruffling Ron's hair and making it look like the nest of a bird.

Ron sighed, staring at his clothes spread on his bed. A simple muggle t-shirt with printings of a band Ron did not know, then denim pants. Wearing them felt weird, but it was, admittedly, better than wearing robes every day.

What made Ron sigh was the beautiful pearl necklace resting on top of the t-shirt. It seems like mom snuck it there while he was talking to Charlie. Ron stared at it, then sobbed. His mother had pulled this stunt for as long as he could remember, switching his robes for a dress, sneaking in her own jewelry in his trunk..the works.

He was glad the door was locked, and everyone else was already downstairs--he didn't want anyone walking in on him like this. Ron took the necklace in his palms, not aggressively, not with care--he just held it. He made a mental note to put it in Ginny's room, she probably wouldn't like it, though. Mom has been going ballistic  about Ginny's change of style, just yesterday, she cut all her hair off with kitchen scissors. Her hair was barely past her ears now, mom cried when she saw Ginny's hair.

She was scared to lose another daughter.

Ever since Ron cut off his waist-length hair when he was eleven, mom has been afraid, she watched Ginny like a hawk and told her to keep her hair long. She was scared, because of what he chose.

He was her daughter, just not the one she craved.

Ron wanted to be angry, he wanted to scream and finally drill it into his mother's head that he wasn't a girl--but that doesn't make him any less her child. Despite wanting to do cry longer, Ron dried his tears and grabbed the muggle clothes, before walking to the bathroom with feather-light footsteps, even so, the wooden floorboards creaked with every step.

He locked the door behind him and for a while, just stared at his own face in the mirror.

His hair was getting longer. Ron did like his hair long, but not at waist-length. His hair at the moment was a little past his chin, they curled beautifully, and all Ron could remember was his mother's hymms as she dragged her fingers across his curls and brushed them until it was as soft as cotton.

Ron fished a black hairtie from Ginny's box of hair accessories and tied his hair into a half-ponytail. He looked... like a girl, a voice, sounding oddly like his mother's said. But there was a second voice, saying he looked like a boy. It sounded like a mix of the voices of his siblings. He let the faucet water run unnoticed, before finally filling his palms with the water and splashing it on his face.

He then stripped, hanging his old clothes on the hangers, even his chest binder, the one Charlie gave him before he left for Hogwarts--for the future, he said. Ron stared at his own body in the mirror, his breasts hanging, and then, Ron touched them like it he was unfamiliar, he always woke up early for classes, locked himself in the bathroom and worry about whether or not his chest looked flat enough.

The binder was amazing, it made his chest looked flat, and it helped Ron through the years. But, he just wished he didn't have to use the binder--and, actually, finally have the body he wanted. He felt trapped in a body that didn't belong to him. His features weren't sharp, not masculine, but soft and feminine looking--Ron always hated hearing others point it out. Even the pitch of his voice made him want to vomit, he snuck into the potions lab every saturday to brew a voice changing potion.

It was, perhaps, the only potion he knew how to brew correctly, he knew the potion and how to create it like the back of his hand. The potion helped, his voice was a slight pitch lower, and the twins promised to keep it secret--that he would sneak inside the potions classroom and smuggle ingredients from Susan's secret potions ring.

His own chest disturbed him. Ron desperately wanted to get rid of his breasts, though he doesn't know if that was even possible with his parents and everything. He still had his period, and Ron remembers how embarrassing it was when he first got it, blood leaked through his robes and he almost broke down--if it weren't for Madam Pomfrey hiding his behind whilst they moved to the infirmary.

His mother always said having your period proved you were finally a woman. And Ron cried thinking about it. He had a lot of thoughts that night, he spent hours hiding inside the bathroom just staring at himself, the reminder of being a woman just because he bled down there monthly. Was it so wrong to not feel like you belong in your own body?

A soft knock in the door made him flinch, "Ron. Are you ready yet?" It was Bill, his voice was as low and masculine as always. "The others are looking for you, mom's about to bring out the cake she made."

Ron composed himself, begging his voice not to betray him. "Give me five minutes." He replied, his voice sounding a little hoarse, but even if Bill noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Alright." Bill said, quiet. Before his footsteps retreated from the door and went back downstairs.

Ron tidied himself, he spared a few minutes staring at his chest now that the binder was on. It looked flatter. Ron didn't smile, just stared. He put on the muggle clothes, the shirt was grey with some band on it, and the denim pants were a little wide but comfortable. He left the bathroom and went back downstairs.

It was lively and cheerful with laughter, his mother chuckled while praising Harry, her hands combing through his dark hair while Harry stayed still, smiling. It made Ron's heart squeeze, then he scoffed quietly, mom's favorite child had to be the one who wasn't biologically hers. When Ron appeared at the dining room, his twin brothers greeted him--rather loudly, while his mother's eyes immediately darted to his neck.

Her gaze was piercing hot on his skin, Ron insitictively placed a hand on his neck to make it seem like he was adjusting his collarbone. "The necklace--" his mother started.

"--Mom! I got promoted, Gringotts just sent me a letter, and they're offering me a position here, in Britain." Bill cut in, and Ron nodded a quick thank you to him.

Molly's attention shifted, her eyes, once locked on Ron's neck in search for the necklace was ripped away, she marveled at Bill's words. "Oh, a promotion! Does this mean you will stay away from all that..cursed stuff?"

"Uhm, no, mom." Bill replied, their mother's smile quickly turned into a frown. "But I will be stationed closer to home now."

"Wondeful." She ended up saying, "Any other good news to share?"

Before anyone could say anything else, the fireplace lit up in green flames, and Ron already knew who it was. Percy coughed as he stepped out of the fireplace, the dinner table turned silent at his arrival--he wasn't the only one, there was someone behind him, Oliver Wood, the former quidditch captain.

"Mother, father." Percy greeted, breaking the silence that surrounded. "I'm staying for dinner tonight, will that be alright?"

Molly spluttered, pointing a finger at Percy and Wood, though she or anyone probably hasn't recognized him yet, as his face was hidden behind Percy. "That would be splendid." Dad cut in, clasping his hands together.

"Arthur!" Molly scolded through gritted teeth. "You don't get to--"

"Yes, I can, Molly." Arthur cut her off. "I am the head of this family, Am I not?" He glared at mom, daring to question his authority. They may be known as blood traitors to the rest of the world, but they were still one of the sacred twenty-eight families. "Come sit, Percy, and your friend behind you, as well." 

Percy nodded, before he cleared his throat and stepped aside to reveal Oliver Wood behind him. Everyone's eyes were on them. "Before I do... I want to introduce someone."

"This is Oliver Wood."

The twins' expression brightened. "Hey Captain!" George yelled, whooping. Oliver grinned and waved at them.

Percy sighed. "Oliver is my boyfriend." He said.

The reaction was immediate, with Molly slamming her fists on the dinner table and staring at Percy and Wood in horror.

"Boyfriend?, Percy?!" Molly screamed in denial, the whole burrow seemed to shake with her tone. "I will not accept any homosexual as my son!" She spat, like the word homosexual was a curse.

"Molly!" Arthur yelled. "Percy is our son!"

Molly stared at dad. "He is no son of mine." She said, the whole room went silent. "He stopped being my son the moment he betrayed this family, I would have accepted him back if he had simply apologized and admitted he was wrong, but I cannot accept this, Arthur!"

Molly broke into tears, "Why couldn't it be a girl? Like that Ravenclaw prefect you constantly exchange letters with, Penelope Clearwater!"

Percy snapped, "Penelope is my friend, nothing more, nothing less." He said, as calmly as he could, though the irritation in his voice was clear. Even Ron himself knew that absolutely nothing happened between Percy and Clearwater, they both spoke like partners in crime rather than lovers.

"How can a man and woman simply be friends?" Molly shot back. "Where did I go wrong?" She conplained loudly, keeping her eyes on Percy.

Next to Percy, Oliver sighed, a little disappointed and already regretting agreeing to come with Percy. "Mrs Weasley, for your information, Penelope has a lovely girlfriend, they are both interns at Saint Mungo's." Ron almost snickered at his mom's scandalized expression, almost. "Percy and I have been dating since our fifth year at Hogwarts."

"Damn it, how did I not notice?" Everyone turned to Fred, who seemed deep in thought. "Well, regardless--congratulations you two!" He clapped, and George followed his action with the biggest grin on his face.

"George, you cannot possibly be congratulating such nonsense!" Molly scolded loudly. Ron cringed when she mixed her twin brothers up again, he knew he shouldn't be judging, since he, himself could not tell the difference before. Even Ginny rolled her eyes.

Fred rolled his eyes. "I'm not George, I'm Fred." He sharply pointed out, crossing his arms--and Ron blanched, was he going to go out with his relationship with Lee right in front of everyone? "And mom, i'm a homosexual too."

"I'm for everyone, if that helps." George added, high-fiving Fred while they both smirked.

Harry's expression paled, mom never showed him her bad sides, but now? He was probably regretting coming to the burrow, since he--the chosen one, was in love with the Malfoy heir, his parents were death eaters, one of the very things their mother despised the most.

"Impossible." Molly shook her head frantically like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Where did I go wrong?" She asked herself again, in tears. Hermione stared at Molly awkwardly, then shared a knowing look with Ginny.

Ron knows that the reason why Fred was able to finally tell mom about his sexuality was because he was entering his final year in Hogwarts, they found a good place in Diagon alley with a flat above their future shop, even if they were kicked out, they had somewhere to go.

The same couldn't be said about him and Ginny. They were only in their fourth and fifth year, they couldn't be open with their mom like the twins were. A world where everyone could love freely...didn't exist.

"Accept it or not, mom--it's a part of us, it's not a choice." George said as he scoffed. Arthur was watching everything unfold with shock.

"You have a choice!" Molly insisted, head in her hands. "Look at Ginny and Harry--they would be perfect together!" Ron had to stifle his laughter--nope, nope, he can't laugh.

Harry choked on his water, drenching his pants. "Excuse me?" He said, absolutely scandalized. He shared a horrified look with Ginny, who looked like she was on the verge of jumping off a roof. "Ginny and I are just fr--"

"You don't need to be shy about your relationship, my dears." Molly cut him off, a warm smile on her lips. "I have known about you two since Ginny first went to Hogwarts--it was all she could talk about in her diary." Harry was speechless, he continued to stare at Molly, unblinking. Ginny, however, looked furious.

Oh, merlin. Ron prayed.

"You read my diary?!" Ginny yelled loudly, the entire house shook--like there was a tornado. Ron frantically looked around and locked eyes with both Bill and Wood, they were all thinking the same thing--'what the fuck.'

Molly seemed to finally realize what she just said, a panicked look on her expression as Ginny seethed. "Ginny, dear--"

"Don't you 'dear' me, mom!" Ginny cut her off, looking both shocked and betrayed that mom read her personal journal. "I made that when I was nine--nine! I don't even like Harry anymore, it was purely admiration!" She said, "And, as a matter of fact, I'm a lesbian!"

The whole table went silent.

Ron facepalmed, this is not going to be good.

Molly gawked at her daughter, "You like girls? W-What about Harry?"

"I have a boyfriend, Molly." Harry spoke into the silence, and the horror on Molly's face just grew even more horrified. "We've been together for months now."

"Oh merlin." Molly mumbled. "Have they infected you too?"

Harry blinked, confused. "Infected?" He squinted his viridescent eyes distastefully. 

"Yeah, mom." Bill chimed in. "What do you mean by 'infected'?" He sneered, not liking the implication of her words.

Charlie took a sip from his glass. "This is not going to end well." He murmured, and Ron couldn't help but agree. "Mom, can you please, just stop?" Molly ignored him.

Percy and Oliver stood frozen in front of the fireplace, Ron silently excused himself and stood up from the table, his chair scraping against the wodden planks. His mom took that moment to snap her nexk towards him.

"Roxanne Weasley, you sit down, right now!"

Ron paused. He trembled when he finally registered what his mother just called him. No one calls him by that name anymore, and he preferred it that way. Unwanted memories surged through his mind, before he finally had the strength to stare at his mom dead in the eyes.

"My name is Ronald." He spat, when he said it, the tears fell from his eyes. Ron spun around and ran upstairs, ignoring the voices of his family.

He cried on the way up, and cried even harder when he was finally alone in his bedroom. Ron curled up on himself and pressed his drenched face against his knees.

"Roxanne." His mother cooed, she shivered, his mother was braiding flowers into her hair. She hummed a ballad, it sounded like heaven in her ears.

She smiled, already wanting to rush upstairs and tears the flowers off and undo her braids. "Mom, I want to play with Charlie, can't I?" She stared at her older brother, Charlie, flying on a broom with her two other older brothers, Feed and George as they played their own game of quidditch behind the burrow.

"Girls don't play like that," She pointed at George almost knocking Fred off his broom. "It's dangerous, that's for boys."

She stayed silent for a few seconds, before her eyes sparkled. "If I become a boy, then does that mean I can play with Charlie and the twins?" She said excitedly, her smile dropping when her mother stared at her blankly, her head tilted.

"You are a girl, Roxanne. You and Ginny, why would you wish to be a boy? You already have so many brothers and only one sister."

"But..."

"No buts."

Percy seeted when mom had called Ron by that name. Although, before he could do anything, the twins beat him to it.

"You heard him, his name is Ronald." George said quietly, something bitter dripping on his tongue. "He is your son, mom--can't you accept that? 'Roxanne' never existed! It's always been Ron!"

"How easy for you to say!" Molly yelled. "She is my daughter! Roxanne is my daughter! I don't know anyone called Ron, I only have five sons, and I have two daughters!" Oliver didn't even bother holding him back as Percy rushed forward and slapped his mother across the face.

Silence ensued, mom's hand flew to her aching cheek. "How dare you!" Before she courk get back at Percy, Bill yelled 'incarcerous' and ropes appeared around Molly's body.

"Percy..." Arthur whispered, only to pause mid movement and just look at his wife and mother of his kids as she struggled against the ropes. She may be his wife, but even Arthur understood that what Molly did was wrong. "Molly, stop it." He said, in complete disbelief.

"You are terrible." Percy choked on his own words. "How could you call your own son by a name he hates? A name that doesn't fit him, a name that doesn't belong to him?" The name 'Roxanne' has been long dead to them, and rather, they always knew that name was wrong.

Oliver stood by him, Percy hadn't told Oliver about Ron, because, what right he possess to talk about someone else like that? "Why can't you just accept him, mom?" Percy asked again.

"She.. she is my daughter." She sobbed, tears staining her face. "My first daughter, why...why would she not want to be my daughter?"

"Because that isn't your daughter." Harry spoke up, though he hadn't even known, Harry is no fool, he can connect the dots better than anyone else. "I don't know who 'Roxanne' is, since we were eleven, the only person i've known is Ron, just him, the first boy who became my friend."

Molly stayed silent, she weeped harder. "I am taking Ron with me." Percy announced loudly. "To my apartment, for the rest of the summer, where he will feel safe and respected. Not here, where you can disrespect him like this."

"Take him." Charlie spoke up. "This isn't what he needs for his summer break--he's entering fifth year, his O.W.L.S year, for merlin's sake." His cup rattled as he placed it down.

Bill nodded, "Please take him to your apartment, Percy, please" He rubbed his temples. "Damn it, mom." He grumbled, shooting his mother a glare before leaving the dinner table and packing his things.

"Sure." Arthur finally said, his eyes looked hollow and disappointed. "For the summer, take Ron with you." Percy would have take  him regardless of his parent's opinions, if they refused, Percy would have still taken him.

"Can I come?" Ginny sighed, staring at Percy. "I don't...want to be here for the next month and half." Molly gaped at Ginny, her lips parting to refuse, but she was quickly silenced by father's somber glare.

Oliver nodded with a smile. "Sure you can. I assume the twins have that flat at Diagon? I'm not sure we can fit any more in our apartment." The twins shook their heads.

"Don't worry, we have our own place." They said. "Just..keep our little brother and sister safe, please?" George said. Dinner tonight was a mess, but at least Ron finally has a place to be away from mom.

Percy nodded, "Ollie, let's go." He tugged his boyfriend's wrist to the direction of the stairs. "Harry and Hermione, you two can speak to him first, if you wish."

"We'd like that." Hermione said.

The two followed Percy and Oliver upstairs, no one spoke, only the sound of the creaking floorboards were heard--what was there to say after what just happened?

When they reached Ron's door, Percy was the one who stepped forward and knocked on the dooor lightly. "Ron? It's Percy, can we come in?" They were mer with silence, but Percy waited, and five minutes later, the knob turned and the dooor opened.

Ron hid under his blanket, Percy could hear the quiet sniffles from there, his heart ached as he stepped forward and sat on the edge of Ron's bed.

"Little brother?" Percy said softly, "I just wanted to tell you...that you can stay with Oliver and I for the summer."

"At your apartment?" Ron asked, his words a little muffled from under his blanket.

Percy hummed. "Yes, at our apartment. What do you say?"

"...Okay..." Ron whispered, pulling down the covers. He was met with Percy brushing his thumb to wipe Ron's tears, just like he always did when Ron was younger.

"Pack your things, we can go right now. But before that, your friends want to talk to you--they aren't mad, I promise." He quickly added when Ron's eyes widened in panic. Hermione and Harry stood with Oliver at the doorway, they didn't look mad, but rather upset--not with Ron, but with their mother.

Ron swallowed, "Okay, i'll talk to them." He replied, sitting up.

Percy smiled softly, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on Ron's temple. "Ollie and I will be downstairs." He said, before standing up and leaving the room with Oliver, leaving the trio alone.

"Ron." Harry whispered. Not the name mom called him earlier, but 'Ron', his actual name. "Molly shouldn't have revealed something you didn't want."

"She was wrong. And all the nonsense she said after you left was infuriating." Hermione said sharply, "We don't know whoever Molly mentioned is, we only know 'Ron', our brave and loyal bestfriend since first year, the one who warned the professors beforehand about Crouch Jr, the friend who helped Harry make his boyfriend regret ever leaving him--and even more."

Ron blinked, clearly not expecting anything Hermione said. It isn't what her listing off what he did for them that made him smile, but the way they disregarded who he was before and embraced who he was now.

Before Ron could speak, Harry beat him to it. "Don't listen to Molly's words. I didn't know she was...like this."

"She sort of supressed it when you started staying for summer." Ron confessed. "You were her favorite."

"I...I'm sorry for not saying anything about that." Harry whispered, his eyes full of regret. "She probably hates me for having a boyfriend, It...doesn't matter anymore. I'm leaving the burrow too, i'm going to Grimmauld place with Sirius."

Ron smiled. "Is Hermione tagging along?"

"Yup." She answered. "Ginny's coming with you to Percy and Oliver's apartment, she's really upset about Molly reading her diary."

"Dick move, if you ask me." Harry mumbled, making Ron let out a soft chuckle. "She thought Ginny and I were dating, dating!" He repeated, in complete horror.

"I was too." Hermione groaned. "I was so close to kissing Ginny right in front of yoir mom."

Ron raised a brow, smiling. "Should have done it." In complete spite, was the reason why Ron was even agreeing to it. He was tortured by them in Hogwarts, it made his skin crawl just recalling it. 

"Please don't." Harry chimed in, "I don't want them making out right in front of me, that's scary."

Ron scoffed. "Oh please, i've seen you and Malfoy sneak kisses in the hallways when you think you're alone." The words left his lips before even thinking about it, Harry stared at him.

"How do you know that?" He asked, terrified and nervous. "I could have sworn.."

"Shocker, I get visions about random sruff like that as well. Plus, the magical inheritance gave me very perceptive eyes. I have seen way too much. You and my sister included." He pointed at Hermione.

Hermione's face turned red. "Stop."

"And something else I wanted to say--I want to be honest with you two."

"You don't have to tell us anything if ypu don't want to." Harry said. "We don't want you to be forced to tell us your secrets just because of Molly."

Ron shook his head. "It's not about my mom, I've wanted to tell you about me, but I have been putting off for so long because I was scared. But now? I'm not scared anymore." He took a deep breath. "I'm trans. I was born female, thought I never felt like it. Do you guys remember my name being on the girls dorm at first?" They nodded. "I acted like it was a mistake, but it wasn't. Bill talked to Dumbledore and got my dorm adjusted, I never took my shirt off in the locker room because I didn't want anyone to see my chest, and I...Yeah."

Hermione kept her eyes on him, Ron was startled when he looked up and saw her brown doe eyes on him. "You are the bravest person i've ever met, you're the most Gryffindor out of us. Thank you, for telling us, and trusting us with this." She held his hand, tracing his palms and his scars. The gesture made Ron blush.

"The most Gryffindor, truly." Harry snickered. "But yes, thank you--for being honest with us about your past and trusting us enough to tell us. Honestly, you are very Gryffindor, but at the same time, very Hufflepuff, you are insanely loyal."Harry leaned down to his height and hugger him tightly, like how his older brothers did.

Their words made Ron smile, which turned into an airy laugh. Whilst he remains in a body he doesn't like, at least his family accepted him--they liked him, not the one before, not the little girl he was forced to be.

"My second house." Ron grinned. "I trust you guys the most--besides Percy, of course. Speaking of Percy..I need to pack.

They ended up helping Ron pack his things, they chattered nonestop while doing so, Ron had no idea about why his mother was so quiet, but he didn't ask.

Oliver was very kind, Ron noted--a good man for his older brother, really. He bought Ron and Ginny the expensive street food, the one his mother always said was too pricy.

"Woah." Ron whispered completely breathless when they finally reached the apartment. It was near the ministry, but it looked clean and beautiful.

Ginny, beside him, grinned. "Woah, indeed." She agreed, putting down her bags and jumping out of her boots. "Come on, let's check out our room!" She grabbed Ron's wrist and dragged him across the the flat.

"You two, careful!" Percy called out, placing down the bags of grocery. "Those two, really." He mumbled, falling into Oliver's arms. Oliver smirked before burying Percy in a flurry of affectionate kisses.

It was something Ron saw at the corner of his eye, he chuckled. He matched Ginny's speed as they rushed to their new bedroom, since the other room was for Percy and Oliver, the other one was an office, they both had to share a room. Ron wasn't complaining, sleeping alone was just lonely--he never got used to it.

"Damn." Ginny said as soon as she pushed the door open. It was certainly unlike the burrow, where the floorboard creaked with every little step and the thin walls. Percy and Oliver's apartment was truly different. It just made Ron even more excited.

"I call dibs on the window!" Yelled Ron, jumping on the transfigured bed as a way to claim it. Ginny gasped, as if she was disrespected.

"How dare you!" She huffed. "Don't be shocked when spiders crawl on your legs as you sleep." Ron shivered.

This was going to be a long summer.

Chapter Text

Ron spent hours staring at the mirror that night. After everyone finally fell asleep, he just couldn't--how could he? After what just happened a few hours ago?

He tells himself everyday, that he looks different, he wasn't a girl--he never was. Roxanne never existed, even now, he flinched just at the thought or mention of that name, even if it wasn't directed at him. Ginny snored soundly across the room, though it took some time for her to sleep as well.

After she admitted her sexual orientation to mom, within a few hours, a letter was already sent. Mom was begging for them to come back, mostly Ginny, but she wouldn't stop calling Ron by that name. Percy ended up burning it after reading it for himself.

Percy and Oliver's apartment was vastly different from the burrow. Ron spent a few moments admiring the steady walls and ceramic tiles. The place was just big enough for a small family, it was perfect. Their room was one, but it was spaceous, not like his room at the burrow, where they barely had enough space orher than for their beds. The room they were staying in used to be a guest room.

Ron was glad to finally be out of the burrow, it was a little hard to admit it at first, since he was born and raised at the burrow, but a change of scenery and environment was very much needed.

There was one letter from mom that Ron hid from everyone else. It was... something. Mom's usually neat handwriting looked like chicken scratches as she reminisced on the days when he was younger, begging for her oldest daughter to come home. Ron stared at it, the frantic tone, and just, the whole thing.

It was already past midnight. Ron quietly stepped out of his new room, thankful that the house no longer had the creaky wooden floorboards, so he could sneak out of the room with no issues. The fireplace was still lit, the only sounds in the whole room was his soft breathing, the crackling fire, and his heart pounding against his chest.

The smell of the hearth made his entire body tingle with warmth, especially after his eyesight and instincts seemed to have enhanced afer his magical inheritance. For some reason, Ron can feel when anyone sneaks up from behind him, and his eyes were just clearer, he could see other people's features amazingly clear, like he had a built in magnifying glass.

Even now, he could see every cobweb, every spider, every bug that clung to the walls and shelves. The spiders still scared him, he made Oliver get rid of them. Honestly? If he was going to be living with Percy and Oliver, then Ginny, he needed to tell them. He can only imagine the commotion that will happen if he blacks out like that again. He already got George's word not to tell anyone.

Percy might burst into Saint Mungo's if Ron starts crying blood and a weird liquid from his nose.

Ron took one of Percy's shawls from the couch and wrapped it around his figure, he then sat in front of the hearth and hugged his knees. It was so warm, yet so chilly.

And then, his vision clouded once more, he already knew what was coming. Ron had already learned to live with his ability, to the point where he remembers to stay call when he feels that familiar pull inside his mind and his body becoming lightweight like a feather.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the manor of a pure-blood--he could tell from the furnishings and lengthy ceiling. There were old, porcelain vases everywhere, filled with various flowers, mostly wilted roses and daisies. Although, a few house elves soon came to replace the fallen roses and replaced them with beautiful magnolias.

Ron stepped forward and held one of the wilted roses between his index and middle finger. The house elf forgot one. The flower detached from its stem easily, it looked dry, and every few seconds, a darkened red petal fell to the cold floors of the manor.

He continued to move around the entire manor, and finally identified it as Malfoy manor. The large family portrait near the staircase said everything. Lady Malfoy sat poised on a chair with an elegant smile on her red lips, standing to her left was her son, his best friend's lover. He looked stiff and focused, staring at the center with his arms neatly tucked at his sides, then Lucius Malfoy, he was much taller than his wife and son. With his long platinum blond hair tied into a clean ponytail, he had his hand on his wife's shoulder as he stood proud, as the head of the Malfoy's.

Like a perfect, pure-blood family, truly. Ron still has no idea why his ability brought him here, but he knew it would be useful to him in some way. With one last glance, Ron took careful steps up the marble staircase and entered the room with growing chatter. He pushed the door open and made his way inside.

The sight before him made him raise a nervous brow. Lucius Malfoy had his sleeve pulled up to reveal his dark mark, it was pulsing and the ink slowly came to its original dark color, as it was once faded. Ron knew what this meant, Voldemort was back. He shook his head and exhaled. Lady Malfoy sat on the edge of their bed, a somber look on her usually composed expression.

"He is back, Narcissa." Lucius said in-between breaths. "The dark lord has returned--he called for me when he attempted to kill that Diggory boy and Potter." The deatheater had his head in his hands.

Lady Malfoy gripped the sheets of her bed harder to the point her knuckles turned white, she turned to glare at her husband bitterly. "I have already warned you about whom you swear your allegiance to, Lucius. Now what are we to do? He is requesting the sons and daughters of the deatheaters, but I am telling you, Lucius, I do not want my son exposed to this." She said firmly.

As much as Ron disliked his best friend's choice in partner, he knew the other didn't actually want to be a deatheater, per Harry's words. He could use this to warn Malfoy further ahead, via Harry, of course. Yes, many people knew about his inheritance, but only family and those he knew he could trust. 

"I am taking Draco with me!" Yelled the Malfoy patriarch. "Now is the time for him to bring glory to our family once more, the dark lord will spare us if Draco is marked before sixteen." He said, the room went silent, before Lady Malfoy exhaled sharply.

Lady Malfoy slammed her fist against the bed. "My son is not getting marked!" She yelled at her husband, Ron just stared at them. "I do not wish for him to end up like Regulus, he was sixteen when he was marked, was he not? Have you seen what happened to him?!"

Ron flinched, Regulus? This dead person seemed to be very important to many people, seeing as almost everything was traced back to him. He racked his brain and finally recalled it, Malfoy's mother was a Black, wasn't she? She was probably cousins with Regulus and Sirius, since Sirius himself said that his mother only had two sons.

"Regulus is dead, Narcissa! And so is that Fortescue girl--she might as well just be considered dead, you need--just, we need to save our family." Lucius retorted, sounding both exhausted and insane, he crossed his arms, though they trembled slightly.

Lady Malfoy scoffed. "How dare you bring up Alice!" She screamed back. "Those mindless deatheaters have already disabled her, and you dare bring her up like this? It is not my fault that you chose to be a deatheater!" Her response seemed to trigger something in her husband, as he suddenly flinched and the color on his face disappeared.

Lucius Malfoy turned around and stared at his wife with hazy silver eyes. "You're still in love with that woman, aren't you?" He asked, a flash on panic in his voice. He looked like a madman, not like the snobby pure-blood who often looked down on his father with a permanent sneer.

"When have I ever stopped loving her?" She snarked, Ron watched as Lucius Malfoy's fists clenched. "If it weren't for our marriage contract, I wouldn't have even spared you a single glance." Lady Malfoy spat the words like poison, making Ron blink confused at the new information.

He connected the names and got... Alice Fortescue? The name sounded oddly familiar, it was the tip of his tongue, yet he couldn't remember. 

Another person to investigate.

Or he could ask someone who might have gone to school with Lady Malfoy--and if his math was correct, that person would be Sirius or...Snape. The idea of asking Snape of all people made him shiver, he's feared that man even before Hogwarts, hust from the stories of his elder brothers. But it could be the most efficient--since Sirius wasn't really in his right mind at the moment, Harry did mention he was seeing a mind healer, Ron can ask, after all. But asking Snape for more information at the same time should be good. 

The Malfoy Patriarch trembled, trembled. He moved closer to his wife with empty eyes, he looked weak and a shell fonhis former self. "You swore before we married that you no longer felt anything for that woman." He bit down on his lower lip and pleaded with his gaze.

"It was clearly a lie, Lucius." She crossed her arms, her irises slightly trembled, staring at the fresh, golden magnolias which were just placed in a vase. "Alice will always be the one that I love." 

She whispered, though the silence in the room made her words barely a whisper. Lady Malfoy's heels clinked rythmically as she moved towards the vase of Magnolias. "Her favorite flowers." She said. "The very flowers we both wanted at our wedding--if we ever had the chance to be wed."

"She's nothing more than a bumbling fool, Narcissa." Her husband said. "How can two women marry? How will you have children? And heirs?" He asked, rather mockingly. But Ron could see the fear in his eyes, it was practically plastered on there. 

Lady Malfoy huffed, picking one magnolia from the vase and bringing it to her nose. "Right now, Alice may be a 'fool', but she will forever be the bravest, strongest, and most courageous woman i've ever loved in my life. Heirs were never an issue, we have magic and adoption, we were supposed to be happy--Alice and I."

"You are as much as a fool as she is." Said Lucius.

Lady Malfoy smiled dauntingly. "Then, so be it--If I am considered a fool for loving her, then I will be known as the greatest fool in history."

Ron watched the exchange with his interest piqued. He really needed to research about Alice Fortescue, and why she is considered nothing more than a 'bumbling fool', he doesn't quite find it nice.

Plus, this Alice was clearly Lady Malfoy's girlfriend before getting married to Lucius Malfoy.  

In the end, Lucius Malfoy said nothing, he only grit his teeth and seethed in anger. He brushed past his wife like she no longer existed, like a ghost--Lady Malfoy did not let herself be bothered, and continued staring at the bright yellow magnolias. Her eyes shut tightly and her red lips in a slight frown, she looked--no, was a woman mourning her deceased partner.

"I love you." Lady Malfoy mumbled, staring at the magnolias. "I'm sorry, Alice." She then began to weep, tears streaming down her monotone expression, which slowly crumbled, making her wipe her eyes with her long, black sleeves.

A passionate but fleeting romance.

Ron felt like he was overstepping, and knew too much about his best friend's boyfriend's mother, of course, it isn't like he can control when he has these visions. But now? He couldn't bring himself to watch any longer, it was clearly a private moment for Lady Malfoy, and he will grant her the last few moments to weep all she pleased without anyone watching.

He quietly stepped out of the room, despite knowing no one could hear him, since he wasn't actually in the moment. Everything froze, it felt like time had stopped, or slowed. Ron decided to snoop around the manor whilst he wasn't being taken back yet, he slipped inside Lucius Malfoy's office and saw the letters he was exchanging with fellow deatheaters.

Avery, Mulciber Jr, Crabbe Sr... and a lot more.

What made Ron pause was the letter addressed to Severus Snape. He snatched the letter from the desk drawer and teared it open. Despite knowing where Snape's loyalties lie--which was to Dumbledore, Ron didn't exactly trust him yet, even though he knew all he would find in this letter was discussions about Voldemort, since Snape was a double agent.

And it did. Lucius Malfoy wrote to his dear friend, Snape, about the return of Voldemort and his plans to present his son and heir to that man. Ron took a deep breath and kept reading. Lucius Malfoy didn't really want to return to Voldemort, and only did so out of fear, though he expressed his need to serve him. He also found out Lucius Malfoy was planning yo present his son in a week.

Ron would have simply tossed the letter in the warm embrace of the fireplace, but--yet again, he was not really in the moment. Instead, he dropped it back inside the desk drawer and prepeared to leave the office.

Before he stepped out of the door, he noticed the calendar at the corner of his eye. It was the seventeenth, which meant this visions he was having, it happened not even a day ago. Ron sighed in both relief and panic. He needed to get Malfoy out of Voldemort's clutched before he is marked. This happened yesterday, and if he is given to Voldemort in a week, he had time, albeit a little limited. Breaking into Malfoy manor didn't seem likely, it was most definitely armed with wards and elves on the look out.

He could plan later. Ron felt his vision blurring again, he was coming back to reality. He bit his tongue--and his eyes widened, before biting his tongue again--harder. He felt it, the new wound, the mettalic taste of blood on his tongue. He didn't have enough time to process this discovery, however, before his eyes were forced shut and he woke up, once again in front of the fireplace.

Ron felt the blood running down his eyes again, though he managed to avoid it from staining Percy's shawl. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and wiped his nose, before sticking his tongue out after feeling the pain, the blood tasted odd on his tongue

This wasn't good. If he could be harmed in his visions, then his actual body gets hurt as well. Though he wonders about getting hurt physically first, then entering his trance state, will he have the same injuries as he navigates through a vision? He knew his power was too powerful, and now, he found the weakness.

He could worry about himself later--now? He had a letter to write and someone to help.

Dear Harry,

Hey mate, it's Ron--Do you remember me telling you about my magical inheritance? The visions? I'm writing this letter to warn you.

Lucius Malfoy is taking Draco to Voldemort to be presented before he will be marked. The vision happened yesterday, though I only had it a few minutes ago. You have a week before he will be brought to Voldemort.

Find a way to save him, I know he doesn't wish to be a deatheater. He and I have a rocky relationship with each other, but i'm not that petty. I know you aren't fifteen yet, but you can ask Sirius for help with with Gringotts to see your heirships. I know Sirius isn't well yet, but he can manage--he can help you sign for emancipation since you aren't at the age to claim your heirships yet.

Once you claim your heirships, you will be given a ring for each one, I know you have more than one--with Sirius and all. Each heir ring has a special power based on the title, Sirius can tell you about the Black ring, since I do not know what power it holds--I am guessing immunity to poison, since the house of Black deals with such. I am not sure, though--don't take my words serious!!

The Potter ring, since there are no living Lord of the house of Potter, you will immediately be named the Lord and once you are, you have legal right to claim the Potter seat at the Wizengamot. I'm saying this just in case, Draco desserting his father is bound to cause legal trouble if they tie it to you. However, based on my research, the house of Potter is one of the most influencial and old houses, which means you can influence the decision of the Wizengamot with your decision and words. And also, you inherit property alongside the title, you can hide Draco at one of the Potter manors, or you could continue to reside in Grimmauld.

I am also unsure, but the Potter's are possibly tied to the Peverells. That is where your cloak came from, your invisibility cloak is exceptionally powerful, more so than the ones i've seen. The story of the three brothers could explain your cloak. I've attached a book in the letter about  the three brothers, read it and you'll understand where I am coming from. And if you are, indeed, related to the Peverells, you can claim the Lordship title as well. If a  family as old and respected as the Peverells appear in the Wizengamot, you have more power than anyone else. Wield it well.

That's all. I will contact you via letter or floo network when I discover something new. I'll help you in any way I can.

Stay safe, both to you and 'Mione. Tell her Ginny already misses her, visit soon, you can bring your boyfriend once you get him out of that damn place.

PS: I have a small request. Ask Sirius what he knows about Regulus Black and Alice Fortescue, tell me what he says. Thanks!

Sincerely, your best friend, Ron.

Harry almost spit out his orange juice after he read the entirety of the content of the letter. He expected a letter from Ron, though not so soon--by that, he meant approximately eight hours after they left the burrow. And he most certainly did not expect the contents to be as such.

He panicked for a minute, was Malfoy Sr really planning to get Draco marked? The letter from Ron arrived the next morning, which meant Harry had a little over five days to plan his boyfriend's escape from his home to prevent him from being marked.

The whole Gringotts and heirship timhings got him thinking, he had titles? Harry stared at the book titled 'The Tale of The Three Brothers' on the kitchen table, Hermes brought it over just ten minutes ago. Harry felt a surge of unease as he processed the whole situation, fuck, if he didn't hurry, his boyfriend would be forced to become a deatheater.

Harry did end up reading the book, albeit very fast in a fury of panic. 

"A letter from Ron? So soon?" Hermione asked, peering over Harry's shoulder while he was frustrated beyond belief in his seat.

Harry stared at his best friend. "Lucius Malfoy wants to present Draco to Voldie." He said, it came out a little more monotone than he expected.

"What-- What do you mean?!" Hermione spat out her coffee, she choked for a second before her expression turned into a horrified one. "What do you plan to do?" She said it in a more quiet voice, despite the coffee stains on her sweatshirt.

Grimmauld place was peaceful, but plenty of unpleasant memories for Sirius. He started to see a mind healer two weeks ago, and he was much better than he ever was during third year.

He sighed, biting on his nails. "Well, I obviously need to get Draco out of there." He said. "But, I don't know how--I have barelt five days to figure it out--shit!" Harry's head fell into his hands as he exhaled loudly. "Hermione, I need your help."

"Anything." Replied Hermione. "First, let me see the letter, so I can understand what's happening better." Harry handed her the slightly crumpled letter with no hesitation.

She went over it, her observant eyes scanning the whole letter. "Get Sirius, we need to go to Gringotts, now." Harry nodded, forcing himself to pull himself together. "Ron's right, we can't just take Draco out of his home, his father has political power. You need your titles as quickly as possible."

Harry took her hand, a wave of comfort and warmth surging through his entire being. They ran to the living room, where Sirius was reading a book on the couch, as a part of his mind healing thing. Sirius looked exceptionally better, and Harry will never stop saying it. His beard was shaved, and his teeth that once rotted after staying in Azkaban for so long was fixed with magic, his curly hair was tied into a low bun. Sirius turned to them with a pleasant smile.

"Harry, Hermione." He greeted. "Do you two kids need anything?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, he squeezed her hand as a way to say, i'll do it. She nodded and backed away slightly.

"Sirius...I need you to emancipate me and take me to Gringotts to claim my heirships." Sirius blinked, before licking his lips with a sigh and placing his book down. "M-My boyfriend is in trouble, his father wants him marked, he's being taken to meet him in five days." He says all at once.

"I knew the topic of your heirships would come up very soon, just not in this way." He smiled. "So, Old Lucy is taking your boyfriend to You-Know-Who?" Sirius asked, his smile trembling, the terrible memories of Voldemort flooding through his mind.

Hermione nodded, "Lucius Malfoy is powerful." She sighed, crossing her arms. "Ron told us over letter, it was something he foresaw with his magical inheritance."

"Lucy is certainly powerful." Said Sirius. "Your friend...I haven't seen him since your third year, all I remember of him is Wormtail disguising as his rat." Harry's nose scrunched in disgust, the thought of Pettigrew acting as Ron's pet rat as a child weirded him out. "His magic is strong, what else did he say?"

"Ron mentioned the Potters possibly being related to the Peverells." Hermione aswered. "He was doing research about the heirship stuff for Harry, and saw the Peverell name, he looked over that too."

Sirius' eyes widened. "Your friend is perceptive--and he based his suspicion without a vision?" Hermione nodded her head. "You're correct, James was Lord Peverell, he only told me and Lily. Your friend noticed the cloak didn't he? That cloak was the same cloak in the story of the three brothers, the Potters are indeed descendants of the Third brother, that invisibility cloak is existing proof of your bloodline, Harry."

Harry's mouth gaped open, he stared at his godfather. "The third brother... makes sense." He murmured, suddenly remembering Ron's request. "And there's another thing."

"Yes?" Sirius raised a brow.

"Ron asked us to ask you what you knew about Regulus Black and Alice Fortescue."

Sirius suddenly froze in place, his body going worryingly still. He craned his head towards Harry, he swallowed his fear after seeing the look on his godfather's eyes. It was similar to the madness he possessed after he got out of Azkaban.

"How does Ron know about them?"

Ron coughed as he stepped out of the fireplace, he pinned his hair behind his ears  and took in the sight of Grimmauld place. It was beautiful, the architecture was eye-catching and fancy. As expected, Sirius was bewildered when he told Harry to ask about Regulus and Alice Fortescue.

"Ron!" Harry called out, wrapping him in a tight hug after rushing to the living room. "You're really here--and on such short notice, I am so, sorry." But Ron didn't care, since he had already expected it. He hugged Harry back, patting his best friend's back.

Hermione took the floo to Percy's apartment to spend time with Ginny, despite only being separated for a few hours. Harry was going to do the same, but stayed behind first to see Ron when he entered Grimmauld place. Plus, Percy and Oliver were fussing over him when he said he was making an impromptu trip to meet Sirius.

They were both barely nineteen, yet acted like a middle-aged couple sending their child off to school for the first time. 

"No worries, mate." He winked. "Where's Sirius?" Harry pointed upstairs, Ron narrowed his eyes as he read the sign hanging on the door Harry was pointing at.

'Regulus Arcturus Black.' The sign read. So, he was waiting inside Regulus' room? Ron hugged his best friend once more before letting go. He didn't turn back when he heard him say the address of Percy and Oliver's apartment.

Ron took careful steps up the stairs, he pushed the door to Regulus' room slowly, the door creaked loudly. And sitting on a tidy but visibly unused bed was Sirius. He was as handsome as Ron remembered, though much better as he looked healthier.

"Ron." Sirius said in the midst of silence. "Come, take a seat." He patted on the spot beside him, and Ron hesitantly went and sat down next to Sirius.

He clutched his pocket, pulling out the folded piece of paper before anyone could say anything. Ron handed it to Sirius, who eyed the paper suspiciously, before taking it. Sirius unfolded it and let put a soft gasp.

It was the drawing Ron made when he had his first vision, when he bumped his shoulder on that book. Sirius stared at the shaky drawing of Regulus, his quivering fingers tracing the figure, then his eyes landed on the water monsters grabbing Regulus' leg.

"This...is how he died." Sirius whispered, choking on a sob. "My little brother--oh, my Reggie." His tears finally fell, landing on the paper and soaking it.

"It was the first vision I ever had." Ron explained. "I accidentslly brushed my shoulder against a book about the history of the dark arts and saw it. I didn't know who he was until a few weeks later, where I had another vision about the graduation party you and the other seventh years had. Regulus snuck in and was with Snape on the balcony, they were talking about their dark marks and what they wanted to do after graduation. Snape called Regulus by his name, and I made the connection, he looked a lot like you."

Sirius didn't say anything for a few minutes, after three minutes passed, he finally spoke. "Regulus was marked at sixteen. I always thought he got cold feet and that man did something to him, I never saw him again." His voice trembled as he spoke. "These creatures..."

"I don't know what they are, but I am writing to Dumbledore later, I can ask him about them." Ron said. "And..about Alice Fortescue? When I had the vision about Lucius Malfoy planning to take his son to get marked, Lady Malfoy mentioned an Alice Fortescue, and I could tell that they were..."

"Romantically involved?" Sirius chimed in, rubbing his temples. "They were--Narcissa and Alice, they dated through fourth and seventh year, before they had to end things  because of Cissa's bethrothal to Lucius."

Ron nodded, already knowing. "They were arguing. Lady Malfoy refused to let her son get marked, because she didn't want him to end up like Regulus." Sirius flinched. "Lord Malfoy got angry and said Regulus was dead, and that Fortescue girl is practically dead as well."

Sirius bit down on his lower lip, "Regulus was always closer to Cissa out of all our cousins." He sighed. "Around two or three years after Cissa got married, Alice got engaged in the same month of their anniversary and got married two months later. Alice married Frank Longbottom and thus, became Alice Longbottom."

"Longbottom..?" Ron asked in disbelief. "You mean to tell me, Neville's mother is Lady Malfoy's former partner?" He found it surprising--who thought something like this happened? Malfoy always bullied Neville for his looks and meek personality in their first year, and if that marriage contract never went through...

Sirius nodded. "Around thirteen or fourteen years ago, Frank and Alice were captured by deatheaters--Bellatrix, my insane cousin, and Barty Crouch Jr, a fellow deatheater tortured them both with the Cruciatus curse. They lost their minds and went insane, although they are still alive, they are unable to function properly. This was the last thing I heard before I was sent to Azkaban."

Ron pursed his lips, horrified. They were tortured to insanity--it sounded guy-wrenchingly terrible. "Is that why Neville always mentions his grandmother like she was his main guardian?"

"Augusta Longbottom is a fierce, strong woman, she raised her grandson as her own after what happened to her son and daughter-in-law." Sirius added. "I think...they have stayed in Saint Mungo's  all this time."

"...I didn't know such a terrible thing happened to Neville.." Ron mumbled, shaking his head. "I--thank you, for telling me all this. There is only so much my magic can show me."

Sirius sighed. "No. I have you to thank." He said, eyes glued on the drawing of Regulus being grabbed at the ankle. "I...Was never a good a brother to Reggie, I left him alone when I was kicked out, because I believed he was too far gone. I should have dragged him with me to James' house." His voice was broken, hot tears pooling on the paper. "I have many things I regret, and the one I regret the most is not being able to save Reggie. If it weren't for you, I never would have known how Reggie died. He was always such a soft kid, but how we grew up made him a shell of his former self--I remember the day he lost the spark in his eyes."

Ron said nothing, all he did was sit there, before he stood up and bowed his head slightly. He left the room, and left a portion of the door open, the sounds of Sirius mourning Regulus were painful.

He remembered what Sirius said about Regulus getting cold feet and dying, he wished his next vision was the reason how Regulus died--how he ended up in that cave that killed him. He never..no, he was a terrible friend for never checking up on Neville, to think he grew up without his parents made his heart squeeze.

Voldemort has hurt millions, and so has his death eaters. Ron balled his hand into a fist and made a vow--that he would do anything to bring Voldemort to his doom, even if it cost him his own life--Voldemort's actions has left his best friend orphan, tuened Neville's parents insane, and almost killed Diggory.

If the ministry won't do anything, he might as well just take things into his own hands.

Ron stared at Snape, who sat across from him. The dungeon-bat looked equally as displeased with this arrangement. Dumbledore mentioned potential leaks to Voldemort about his ability, and asked Snape to teach him Occlumency as a precaution. If Voldemort finds out and tries to look into his mind, Dumbledore said it was definitely possible that Voldemort would either take him hostage or gauge his eyes out for himself.

"Mr Weasley..." He drawled.

"Professor Snape." Ron greeted. He was in Percy's office, he was at work, and Oliver had a practice match against the Holyhead Harpies until late in the evening.

They both clearly want nothing to do with the other. "Since Albus has requested for me to guide you in Occlumency...Well, first, are you familiar with Occlumency?"

"My older brother, Bill, practices it. And so does Percy, but no one else amongst my siblings do other than them." He answered.

Snape hummed. "Let's start then--Mr Weasley, how well can you control your emotions?"

"Not very well." Ron said honestly. "I never found any use for that."

"Well, you will have to learn how to regulate your emotions if you wish to be a a half decent Occlumens, Me Weasley." Snape cleared his throat. "You need to remain calm, focused, and unbothered to prevent anyone from seeing into your mind. Controlling your memories also play into this, you must learn how to push away memories you don't wish for anyone to see."

Ron nodded, taking notes on a small roll if paper. "I...I'm not used to being calm and collected." He said, nervous. "And I'm very impulsive, how am I going to just...learn?"

"You will learn." Snape said, staring him down. "Stand up, I will demonstrate, you will feel how it is for your mind to be invaded, and how easy it is."

"Ginny, can you turn the television on?" Oliver said, humming a muggle song blasting on the radio as he flipped pencakes, the aroma was addicting, and Ron almost wished pancake perfume existed. "Do you want extra butter on yours, Ron?" He nodded enthusiastically.

Life at Percy and Oliver's apartment was better than Ron thought. Oliver was very doting, Ron soon learned that--just tomorrow after they arrived, Oliver made a whole feast just in case they were still hungry. Percy too, he made consistent stops to that amazing bakery near the ministry and brought back bags of delicious, appetizing pastries.

Ron happily ate his pancakes with extra butter and strawberries on top. Never in his fifteen years of living did he expect the former Gryffindor quidditch captain to be making him pancakes during breakfast. Not that he was complaining, plus--Oliver has proved himself to be more than good enough for for his brother.

Another thing Ron was thinking about, and the other two were probably thinking about as well was mom's constant letters to Ginny begging her to come home and stop her childishness. Ginny's started taking on a different style, though she said she's always wanted to dress like that, just that she knew their mom would go ballistic and flip the burrow upside down if Ginny stopped being her perfect little girl.

Since, Ron couldn't fulfill that role.

At that moment, Ron heard Percy's light footsteps approach. "Mornin' Ollie, mornin' you two." Percy yawned as he stepped into the kitchen, still in his pajamas. "Are those pancakes I smell?" Percy asked as he smiled softly, walking up to Oliver and peeking over the taller man's shoulder.

It was a weekend, which meant Percy was completely off work for today. Oliver let him sleep in, since Percy usually stayed up until three in the morning and woke up at six to get ready. Ginny was furious when she found out, she slapped Percy with her newspaper and threatened to slip in a sleeping drug in his tea. Ginny wasn't angry at Percy for leaving anymore, she understood quite easily, actually.

"Morning, love." Oliver said, leaning back and pressing a kiss on Percy's nose. "Sleep well?" Percy hummed, lifting himself up as he sat on the counter. "I made ones mixed with blueberries for you." His brother chuckled, pressing a peck on his boyfriend's messy morning hair.

"Surprisingly, yes." Percy chuckled. "What a great day it is today."

Ron raised a brow. "Are you only saying 'cause it's a saturday? Since you don't have have to deal with Fudge."

"Obviously." Replied Percy. "I cannot stand that man, always ordering me around like an elf." He huffed, snagging a piece of buttered nutella toast from Oliver's plate, making the former captain glare at his boyfriend. Percy only laughed in response.

Ginny smirked, going back to pouring a reasonable amount of sugar in her coffee. "When are we going to Diagon Alley? We promised the twins we'd stop by, didn't we?" She reminded. Fred and George have been pestering all four of them to come to the joke shop, it was almost built already.

"Later." Percy answered, "You two better hurry up and swallow your pancakes if you want to leave early."

Ron giggled, chowing down on his strawberry pancakes. His Occlumency lessons with Snape were going rather well, and although Ron still dislikes that old dungeon-bat, he can't deny that he was a decent teacher at Occlumency, on potions, rather...that was a different story.

He and Sirius have been exchanging letters for the past four days. Harry decided to meet Mal-Draco at Diagon Alley with his parents, before snatching him away. Ron knew about what happened before Harry even told him. Just a few minutes after what happened, Ron had a visions about it.

What Harry didn't know when he whisked Draco away, was that Lady Malfoy had been watching them two the whole time. She smiled, watching them leave, before her smile faltered in practiced ease when her husband returned to find his son gone.

Draco requested for them to call him by his name instead of his family's name, since he was planning to go no contact with his father. Draco was quite horrified when he heard about his father taking him to be marked. He packed in advance and used a charm to make everything fit in one small bag.

Ron could finally sigh in relief when he successfully helped save someone from doom. In all honesty, his opinion of Drafo was getting better. Since the ferret actually bothered to apologize over and over for his misdeeds over the years, and even allowed Ron and Hermione to punch him square in the face three times each. Hermione relished in it, probably remembering the times she was called that word.

"Ron, a letter for you!" Percy called from the window, woah, when did he get there? Hermes stood on Percy's arm, Percy untied the letter on Hermes' leg and threw it to where Ron was eating.

"Thanks!" Ron practically vibrated in his seat as he unrolled the parchment and opened it.

It was from Blaise.

They've been exchanging letters every two days, and Ron has been over the moon. Even if it was just simple letters about how their days went, Ron read through everything happily. The length of Blaise's letters got longer each time.

It was progress.

Chapter Text

The walls of Hogwarts are thick. Ron absentmindedly ran his fingers through the walls as he climbed the staircase, cold and rough--he was unsure where his heavy feet was taking him. Ron bit down on his tongue, relying on his instincts.

Everything was woozy and blurry, he didn't know how he ended up here. Hogwarts was eerily quiet, the muffled voices of the students passing by--and Ron saw someone familiar, just from the corner of his eye. He followed his instincts, his feet, which led him around.

What he saw was a familiar young man, It was Professor Lupin--walking with the rest of his friends. Ron trailed behind closely, he couldn't believe how different Professor Lupin looked as a teenager, the long scar was still there, but his hair was longer and there was no sign of his greying hairs. They all looked around sixteen or seventeen, and Sirius was very handsome. Ron almost drooled, and then there was James Potter, who looked exactly like Harry. The same copper skin, round-rimmed glasses, and that blinding smile.

So, he was seeing into this year of Hogwarts. The only vision he's gotten about Hogwarts back then was Tom Riddle smuggling Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem and Regulus Black. Ron leaned behind the wall, one foot up as he crossed his arms and listened. He was also starting his journey to locating that room and finding the diarem, out of pure curiosity on what power the diadem could possibly hold.

"Remus, how did it feel being partnered up with Snivelly?" Pettigrew quirked up, making Ron sneer mildly. And who in merlin's beard was Snivelly? It definitely didn't sound like a good name, but it was rather condescending. 

Professor Lupin struggled to keep his expression calm, which Ron found odd. The professor he knew was often calm and collected. "It wasn't so bad, he guided me through the whole potion, actually."

Sirius scoffed, "Wasn't so bad?" He quoted, "That greasy git might have passed over whatever disease he has to you!" Ron pursed his lips, watching as his best friend's father--though younger--slapped Sirius' back playfully while in a fit of laughter himself.

"Siri' is right, Remus." James added, "Never washing his damn hair, and he smells like shit as well!" Ron's brow twitched in annoyance.

Before Professor Lupin could retort, Sirius went unbelievably still, turning his head like a dog that has scented a rabbit. Sirius grinned, "Excellent," He said creepily calm, "Snivellus." Ron bit the inside of his cheek as he stared at a younger version of  Snape--shorter, more meek, surrounded by a gang of Slytherins who sneered towards the direction of the Marauders.

"Leave us alone, Black!" The blonde yelled--Evan Rosier, Ron identified.

James rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a jeer. "Or what? You'll show us your dark marks?" He cackled, slamming his fist against Sirius' own. Pettigrew hid behind Professor Lupin, who seemed to be on the edge of anger.

"Or maybe, we'll hex you to oblivion--remember last week, Potter?" Another Slythein said smirking, smug. "Would you like to turn into a goldfish again?"

"You can try, Avery." Sirius snarled, his tone growing protective over James. "We all know whose side the others will take anyway." Ron narrowed his eyes, Sirius' remark throwing him off. He didn't even want to think about the implications behind that.

So, he was seeing Hogwarts around twenty or so years ago. Ron didn't expect Sirius and...James Potter to act like this. The memory of James Potter was always remembered to be brave, kind, and strong, a wizard who fought against Voldemort. But from what Ron was seeing--that image was nothing more than a hoax, to cover up that man's terrible history. And as for Sirius--Ron just felt more betrayed.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins continued to argue, with 'Avery' and 'Mulciber' continuing to bring up the House of Black against Sirius, when he kept yellong about death eaters. Ron was disappointed that Professor Lupin just stood there, like a coward. He eyes the prefect badge secured on Professor Lupin's chest and scowled. This man was a prefect, yet he doesn't even attempt to diffuse the situation?

"Shut up, Black!" Snape yelled, pointing his wand against Sirius' throat with an annoyed frown. "It's not like i'd speak to your little friend willingly! So, you can stop acting like Lupin's mother and shut up!"

Ron turned to the Gryffindors, eyes widening when he saw how hurt Professor Lupin looked at Snape's words. What was happening? Why would...Professor Lupin look like a kicked puppy at Snape's remark? He was friends with the rest of the marauders, who actively hated the Slytherins--mostly Snape. He fully expected Professor Lupin to act like them, but no, he did not. But it doesn't change the fact that the man was a coward.

"Stay away from Remus, Snivellus." Sirius spat, as his friends walked away from the gang of Slytherins. Though Professor Lupin was hesitant, and had to be dragged away by the wrist. "Remus."

Ron shook his head, he always had an odd feelings about Sirius, but this was too much. It explained the way he acted back in third year when he was discovered by them. And Professor Lupin? He falls under the same category as the rest of his friends.

The Occlumency lessons with Snape were going well. Ron used to groan during the first few meetings, but gradually, he came to understand why Snape was so harsh and blunt with his teaching--because he was a death eater, someone who was close to Voldemort and was familiar with his tricks.

Of course, he was never able to look into Snape's mind yet, only to block out his Legilimency...sometimes. Ron was always nervous, at the thought of his magical inheritance putting a bounty on his head. Since his ability was in his eyes, Ron thought about it deeply--if someone desired his ability, then was it possible to claim his ability as theirs if they gouge his eyes out?

It was terrying--that someone could scoop his eyes out and claim it as their own. It would truly be trouble if anyone who wasn't on his side to look into his mind.

Fifth year would start in three weeks. Ron stared at his own reflection, slipping a portion of his hair into his fingers and snipping them. His hair was growing longer and longer, and he kept it at a certain length, just slightly above his shoulders. He liked to tie it halfway up, and Ginny would make small braids on his hair. Ron wanted to enter his fifth year as a new person, not like the person he was before.

Ron felt like someone else, it was both exciting and frightening.

And so--Ron grabbed the bowls filled with multiple colors of box dye. A new color would look great, Oliver took him to the muggle supermarket two days ago, and Ron kept eyeing the shelves of hairdye. In the end, Oliver noticed and helped him choose out a color...or multiple colors.

"Uh," Ron mumbled, staring at the instructions behind the box. "Okay--so, I bleach it first..."

After around three hours of struggling, Ron finally got it correct. He parted his hair and   wrapped it around tinfoil. He decided to follow a model's hair from a muggle magazine, it was...streaks? Yeah, that's what it was called. After some time, he took the tinfoils out and grinned at his new hair after drying it. He had a few thin red-yellow, and dark brown streaks, 

He combed his hair and styled it carefully. Ron never expected to enjoy the hobby of styling hair after his mother would force him to do so back then, but coming to like it himself was a different story. There wasn't anyone making him sit in the living room for hours just for simple pigtails.

Ron touched his hair--then ran his hand through it. It was perfect, and plus, he changed his wardrobe a bit. He was hesitant to buy so much clothes at first, but one look from Percy and Oliver...those two assured him that they had more money than he thought. Well yeah, how else would they afford such a nice apartment?

His visions may be getting worse, but he was trying his very best not to let it affect him so much--although he spent many sleepless nights, it even came in his dreams. Percy took him to a healer, who said he was starting to develop insomnia. Call him stupid, but Ron hasn't told a single one of them about his magical inheritance yet. Percy may be an occlumens, but the minister was a legilimens. As for Oliver, he may be used alongside Percy.

Ron has grown to look up to his brother and his boyfriend like they were his parents. Since, his actual ones...weren't very present anymore. His father did occasionally stop by and send letters, and his mother continued her nonsense. Though he never fully acknowledged it, but just like Percy, Ron has always wished to climb out of poverty. He understood why Percy did what he did, Ron would have walked the same path too.

He couldn't wait to let Harry and Draco see his new hair. Ron finished his hair with a hairpin adorned with tiny jewels that resembled a white anemone. It was a gift from Blaise, which made him blush every time he thought about it. Ron never expected to get this far with him, not that he was complaining, of course.

Ron walked out of the bathroom and webt to the dining room, where Oliver was cooking a new recipe from his mother's cookbook. "Looking handsome." Percy called out, sipping his coffee while reading witch weekly. Oliver turned around and smiled. Ron blushed slightly at the conpliment.

"It looks better than I thought." Oliver remarked, a pleasant smirk on his lips. "Ah. By the way, theres a letter for you, from Hogwarts." He pointed his spatula at the table, where a letter with a familiar symbol printed on it was laid.

"Thanks, Oliver!" Ron yelled, already rushing for the letter. He turned it over in curiosity, it was from Dumbledore, not Snape, like he expected. The only other people he sends letter to other than his friends and Blaise were his professors, really.

Ron ripped the letter open and paused when he felt something heavy inside. Realization hit him like a boulder, he quickly tore off the remaining parts and gasped when the Prefect badge fell on the wooden dining table with a loud thump.

Percy turned around almost immediately, the biggest smile Ron has ever seen from him on his face. "Dumbledore's made you a prefect!" He exclaimed, loud enough for Ginny to burst out of her room with her jaw hung open.

"Ron? A prefect?!" She screeched, glancing at his hair and her jaw went impossibly lower. "Hey, I want to dye my hair too!"

Ron tuned her out for now, his mouth was slightly agape as he picked up the badge with trembling fingers. His hands suddenly felt like jelly, "I'm...holy merlin, i'm a prefect." He said in exasperation, turning to the rest of his family and grinning. "I'm a prefect!"

"A prefect? That's amazing!" Oliver cheered, approaching him after turning the stove off. He pulled Ron into a warm bear hug and squealed like a pre-pubescent girl. "You are, truly spectacular." Percy followed, ruffling his newly dyed hair with the proudest look on his face. Ron felt giddy, like a child receiving recognition for the first time.

They ended up celebrating his new achievement by going out to his favorite restaurant. It was good, that there were still things he couldn't see--like this, if he did, the surprise would have been destroyed. The term 'surprise' and 'unexpected' were beginning to fade into the background. After all, how could he be surprised with anything unexpected if he was starting to see everything?

Dear Ron,

I hope your weekend is going well, I received the book you gave me--I just started reading it, and it is spectacular.

Time flies by very quickly, I can't believe we will be in our fifth year in a week--Pansy is stressing over O.W.L.S, but Draco doesn't care. He is only behind Granger in terms of grades, after all.

Draco has been happier in Sirius' care ever since he finally left his father's manor, and I know you told me to stop, I can't help but thank you over and over again--for saving my best friend, and giving him the chance to choose. His mother sends him letters every week, and she, herself has left Malfoy manor just two days ago. She is travelling around before she will most likely settle in Grimmauld place with her son and cousin, or to her sister, Andromeda's house.

My mother is suspicious of me, I am always reading your letters when I walk around our garden--she thinks I am in a secret cult, which, frankly, sounds ridiculous.

I spend everyday anticipating about when you will send your next letter, your letters always fill me with tranquility.

You mentioned headaches again, you say it's because you lack rest, yet you still refuse to sleep for more than five hours lately. Take care of yourself, Ron. I've attained medicine from my mother's acquaintance, it should help you with your insomnia.

I can visit your brother Percy's place before we leave for Hogwarts, maybe we can watch a movie or two? Or simply watch the birds, you love that, don't you?

Reply soon.

From, Blaise.

Dear Blaise,

My weekend is going fine. Ginny almost blew up the apartment after Oliver framed a photo of her snuggling and drooling on Hermione last night, which is...not the worst thing she's ever done. I am ecstatic you enjoy the book! Bill gave it to me a month ago, and it just seemed like the type of literature you prefer.

Huh, at least Parkinson and I can finally relate to something. Draco is intelligent, he's offered to tutor me over the summer, and he is a decent teacher, calmer than Hermione. I'm planning on dropping divination, I don't really like it, i'm taking other courses this time.

I visit Grimmauld every few days, and I have caught Harry and Draco cuddling on the couch more than five times! George has started talking to this mystery girl from his year, he refuses to show anyone what she writes! Not even Fred! And that means, he is really serious about her. My brother, Bill has also met Fleur Delacour, she started working at Gringotts two weeks ago--I know they will end up getting married, I just do--don't ask.

I am glad about Lady Malfoy--I am not sure what she prefers to be called now that she is divorcing her soon-to-be ex husband. I have seen Andromeda Tonks before, her daughter, Tonks--as she prefers to be called, is the spitting image of her father! Okay, I haven't talked to Madam Tonks yet--just...saw her portrait once?

Your mother's first guess is a secret cult? Mine usually thought I was dating, eugh. It's great to know you think about me all the time, oh, that sounds corny---anyways!

I received the medicine, I can't believe you just casually asked one of the best doctors in the wizarding world for insomnia medicine. Regardless, thank you. It is great, I was able to sleep an extra one and a half hours after two days.

You are always welcome! We have so far only conversed over letter, but beware, if you're still a prick, I might hex you when we meet again. I can't believe you remembered me talking about birds and sight seeing.

From, Ron.

Diagon alley was packed with young first year wizards and witches, plus their parents who were rushing around with lists of the school supplies needed. Ron spotted many muggle parents confused about the intructions with his keen eye, and offered them help. He could only imagine how confused Hermione's parents were, too.

The line at Ollivanders was packed. It was a good thing Percy was smart enough to go to Ollivanders earlier. Ron almost forgot his wand was old, Percy took him to buy a new one. His wand had a dragon heartstring core, like Hermione's, it was eleven and a half inches with Yew wood. And Ron was nervous when this wand chose him.

The dragon heartstring core was the most attuned to the dark arts, while Yew wood was powerful yet dark--associated with life and death. Even his wand was telling him to learn the dark arts, wasn't it? He would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to learn the dark arts. Of course, Ron told no one--but, he might grow an advantage if he used the dark arts.

It was so hypocritical of him to think so, when he, himself, used to be an avid hater of the dark arts.

And, he was planning on conjuring his patronus soon. Harry is able to use it with barely any difficulty, the patronus charm is tough to cast--Ron wanted to test his new wand out. Although, there was a possibility be might not be able to cast the patronus charm at all if he turns to the dark arts. The patronus charm was one of the lightest magics. He wondered, though. What would his animal be? A horse? A dog? Both would be adorable!

"Okay, we have your wand...now we'll get you an owl, then Madam Malkin's for your new robes." Percy said, humming as he crossed out things from his checklist, Ron felt like a first year shopping for supplies for the first time.

He already knew Percy was planning to get him a new everything, he saw a brief vision of the conversation he had with Oliver before he fell asleep. "More?" Ron asked, a little amused. "I still have--"

"Yes, more." Percy replied, cutting him off and rolling his eyes with a sigh. "Your robes are tattered and hand-me-downs, you ought to have your own by this time. Ginny is also getting hers fitted with Ollie."

Ron hummed, more than reasonable. His heart rate spiked up once more, was this also how excited Percy felt when he was first appointed a prefect in his fifth year? "Thanks" He mumbled.

Percy barely reacted, and Ron was not expecting him to say anything--"It's the least I can do." He said, hands behind his hand. His response made Ron lift a brow in confusion. "Madam Malkin's is right there, you should get fitted while I purchase your books."

Ron nodded, taking the pouch of money Percy shoved in his hands. He watched as Percy left without another word, he hasn't seen his older brother act like that in a long time. It makes him forget that Percy is barely an adult, he was barely twenty. He walked into Madam Malkin's, the first time he's stepped into this establishment since the Yule ball.

Madam Malkin recognized him immediately, a smile on his wrinkled face. "Mr Weasley, welcome." She greeted as Ron approached the counter.

He flashed the same warm smile she did. "Madam Malkin. I'm here to have new robes fitted for fifth year. Ah. how have you been doing?" He quickly asked, making small talk.

"Quite alright." She replied, "Was that your older brother who dropped you off?" Ron nodded, "Hm. I remember him, such a little boy back then." Madam Malkin mumbled with a soft chuckle. Ron was quickly ushered inside, they both barely spoke while she measured him, a comfortable silence, at least.

When all the other extra procedures were finished, he went off on his own. The coins Percy gave him had excess, he could buy some things he wants with these.

Ron walked through the streets of Diagon Alley, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of bitterness as he watched the incoming first years fill their carts to the brim. Sure, his own cart and luggage was full, but barely any of those were actually his. Even Scabbers, who turned out to be Pettigrew, was a hand-me-down from Percy.

Getting money for himself was rare, it only happened once, when they won that lottery. Most of it was spent was on that trip to Egypt, but he got a new textbook, that counts. Maybe. The lingering image of Blaise soon overtook his thoughts, remembering his fancy handwriting and awkward letters.

Ron kept every single letter, they were stacked and safely locked inside his desk drawer. What made those letters so addicting was the scented paper Blaise would use, once Ron tugs the letter open, he is immediately greeted by the blooming scent of fresh roses. He always thought roses were too stereotypical, it just seemed like the standard flower for every romance book or play. But, Blaise made it so, alluring.

He first went to the stationary store and picked up a new, decent quill, that will hopefully last him the whole year. The ones he used back then always seemed to break after just a month. The quill had a soft, but sturdy base, not like the bendy, breakable ones he used in the past. Ron purchased the quill and left the store, his eye catching the sight of a beautiful fountain pen on the way out. It was a beautiful black with golden details, he wanted it--but it costed too much.

The next place he went to was the apothecary, he picked up a few ingredients for the voice-changing potion and for dreamless sleep. He could just make Percy brew it for him, that would be the easier route, but Ron also wanted to learn. He noticed his attention span getting better with his magical inheritance, he could focus on books without being frustrated, now. Ron sighed in relief, he really needed the dreamless sleep.

Sleep never came easy, lately.

It was always the same outcomes. Tossing and turning around in bed until the sun rises, reading a book, sitting by the fireplace, or drawing. The lack of sleep led him to draw more. The foreboding visions he'd see were transferred to a paper. First was Regulus and the water monsters, then Barty Crouch Jr going insane in Azkaban, the others were smaller things--like Alice Fortescue and Lady Malfoy engaged in a ballroom dance with their eyes locked with the others, or Professor Snape and Professor Lupin admiring the stars by the astronomy tower.

Yeah, he knew. About his professor and former professor. It wasn't a good surprise, to induce a heart attack, definitely. Who would willingly want to see his two professors kissing, in their youth?

It just made Ron all the more confused. He thought Professor Lupin hated Snape, then Snape hated Professor Lupin. Who would have thought the old dungeon bat...anyways. They both did end up breaking up, though--much was obvious without a follow-up vision. Ron's best guess was their disagreement on their standing, since Snape was a death eater.

Even in the middle of Diagon Alley, Ron's fingers itched, and twitched--the longer he thought about the dark arts, the greater the urge to actually practice it.

The dark history book that triggered his first ever vision...sat in his trunk, untouched. It was gathering dust and was waiting to be opened. It just made him even more curious to know how the book was associated with Regulus Black. That man's identity was a mystery, other than being Sirius' younger brother and a death eater, he had no information on him.

And Salazar Slytherin's locket, why did he have it?

A strong bump to his shoulder made him snap out of it. "Who--" Ron gritted his teeth, feeling the ache in his shoulder immediately. He paused when he saw who it was.

Tall, that smooth mahogany skin, and sharp copper eyes that seemed to have golden specks in them. "Blaise." Ron said, almost exasperated, almost unable to believe that his pen pal was currently standing in front of him.

In an instant, that sharp gaze vanished and was replaced with soft, worrying ones, Ron swears he saw his irises tremble. "Ron, my apologies." Blaise replied, twisting his lips distastefully. "Your shoulder, does it hurt? I'm afraid I wasn't looking well."

Ron swallowed his words, Blaise's hair has gotten longer in the weeks they spent separated. "Only a bit." He answered, a small smile curving on his lips. "It's been some time, how have you been?" He questioned, hoping his voice did not seem so high-pitched.

"I have been well, you?" Blaise smiled, softly grasping Ron's wrist, making the other flush with embarrassment. Blaise led them both through the crowd, and in front of a café.

"Same." Ron chuckled. The strong aroma of coffee beans and toasted garlic bread filled the air, and he couldn't help but inhale the heavenly smell. "I didn't think we'd meet so soon." He said, approaching a two-seater table.

Blaise huffed playfully, pulling out the chair for Ron before he could even move. "Let's just say...I did a lot of reflecting." Ron bit his lower lip at Blaise's small action, trying his best not to let it show.

"Lovely, you needed that." Ron retorted, snorting. They called over a waitress and ordered their drinks. Blaise ordered a simple black coffee, Ron stared at him with disgust--he ordered a sugary drink, as usual. Ron cannot even fathom how a human being could consume caffeine with nothing sweet mixed with it.

But yes, Blaise truly needed that self-reflection. Otherwise, Ron would have blasted his pompous arse to Mars himself.

Blaise rolled his eyes fondly. "Yes, I know. I was a total jerk, I was hesitating meeting you in person again, until I have changed myself. I think I have, I want to see you again, it's been far too long, Ron."

Ron's cheeks turned red at his tone, the way his name rolled off Blaise's tongue so smoothly, so fondly. It was intoxicating, he wanted to hear it again, a thousand times over. "You better have changed. I would never talk to you again if you hadn't." Ron's perceptive gaze didn't miss the wah Blaise flinched, and shivered.

"Fourth year was a disaster," Ron admitted. "We were all messed up, trying to find ourselves. Look at Harry and Draco now, that ferret used to be so proud, like a peacock flaunting its feathers." He didn't have to say what was next. Since they both knew--that arrogance Draco once possessed was no longer there, it was burned, lit in flames, when he and Harry started to get more entangled into each other's messes.

It was like destiny twisted the string of fate to let them be together, that, one day, Draco would break free from the beliefs his family chained him to, and learn to be a person of his own--not a copy of his father, not a short-lived death eater like Regulus Black, no, his own person.

"...I agree." Blaise took a slow, small sip of his black coffee. It was served just now, it was steaming hot, and smelled like the highest level of bitter. "No one had their shit together in fourth year."

A nudge of understanding washed over them both, no words were said for a comfortable amount of time. Ron barely touched his drink with, practically a bag of sugar thrown in it, it was a disaster, not to him. But, everyone had different tastes.

It was something Ron hadn't admitted until now, that everyone was dealing with their own set of problems during fourth year. The whole 'fake dating' thing with Harry, was what honestly set off a chain of events for Ron. He never would have come across that book that led to his first vision of it weren't for he and Harry's agreement. Ron was a terrible flirt, he ended up borrowing a book of pick-up lines and read it all night, the day he activated his magical inheritance, he was going to return the book.

"What do you think about everyone now? After fourth year?" Ron found himself asking, casting his gaze down.

Blaise inhaled sharply, his usually calm movements turned nervous. "Doing better, definitely. Draco is away from You-Know-Who's clutches, my mother finds my sudden change in behavior suspicious, Pansy's mental health is getting better, with Daphne by her side. There is also Granger and your sister, I heard from Draco, that Ginevra has adapted a new aesthetic after you two moved in with your brother."

Ron froze, could Blaise know about what went down before he went to Percy's?

"Rest assured, Draco didn't tell me about your family issues. I have no idea what happened, only your sister's new form of self-expression." Ron sighed in relief, he told Blaise about his new relocation, but not the reason. "It is not my place to know anything, I won't dig into matters that are obviously private."

Ron couldn't help the grin that broke out, he giggled--real, genuine laughter. "Now, that's how I know you aren't the same as before. The 'you' in fourth year wouldn't have assured me like that, or even speak this long to me."

"...I have wanted to become your friend for the longest time, but I was too proud to change my views on blood purity and...you helped me realize that I was wrong, and, unconsciously, you became my motivation to change myself."

Ron was stunned speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Me? Your motivation?" At Blaise's nod, Ron felt heat creep into his ears, feeling them grow hot with embarrassment. "I--I wasn't aware I held such a significant role in your development."

"Yeah. Same." Blaise chuckled tensely. "By the way, I love your new hair." He said it so shyly, Ron almost didn't believe this was the same Blaise Zabini he once hated, and currently loved.

"Make him change."

Fred's words echoed through his head, making Ron pause. Was this what Fred meant by that? Ron almost dropped his beverage due to his finger trembling, he felt his chest bloom with warmth and his cheeks turn hot. He knew it was obvious that he was blushing, his ears betrayed him.

Ron fell into a fit of laughter. "Thank you, it fits me quite well, doesn't it?" The tension in the air dissipated, like it never existed. Blaise was different now, he was considerate, kinder, and...he was everything. Ron felt like he fell for Blaise all over again.

They talked until Percy came rushing towards him, frantic. It was only then that Ron realized he forgot to tell anyone where he was, and that it was already five in the evening. To him, the concept of time was nonexistent, when he spoke with Blaise.

After arriving home and receiving a long lecture from Percy and Oliver, Ron was finally left alone. The silence of his room, the bright moon, and the candles lit uo on his desk table. The night breeze was cold, but he barly shivered.

He slowly opened his old trunk, its hinges creaking with every push. Ron dug inside and grabbed the book about the dark arts. As expected, it was dusty and very old. The pages were yellow and thick, while the hard cover was folded and falling apart.

He spent hours studying every incantation, every spell, and every description. He painted everything clearly in his memory, everything.

This was interesting.

On one particular page was a drawing of a blood ritual, blood magic. Ron traced the page with his fingers, huh. A return ritual, 'Bone of the father, flesh of the servant, blood of the foe'? The next few were blood magic spells, like Sanguis Eximo, Carcer Sanguinis, and more.

Before he knew it, midnight already came. Yet, Ron had no intention of halting his reading. He wanted to try out the blood magic, on a death eater, perhaps. It was cruel magic, but it was magic fitting for someone or something as cruel as a death eater.

Ron licked his thumb and flipped the page, his brows furrowing as he stared at the description.

'Horcrux.'

Ron spent hours in front of the mirror checking his outfit out, he brushed his multi-colored hair for what felt like the hundredth time in two hours. He smiled in satisfaction as his prefect badge shone under the bright lights. School started tomorrow, today was just moving in day. But, the prefect badge looked so enchanting on his chest.

Hermione would be his fellow prefect, Ron couldn't help but feel ecstatic. He was a prefect--he was a prefect! Harry was a little disappointed he wasn't chosen, but overall, did not really care. Blaise was chosen as Slytherin prefect, with Greengrass as the other other one. They were both perfect for the role, at least they knew responsibility.

"Ron, stop staring at the mirror before I drag you out with a bald patch on your head!" Ginny screeched from the kitchen, her chest heaving. "Do you think he heard me?" She asked her brother and his boyfriend, smiling to herself like she was doing god's will.

Ron rolled his eyes, before grabbing the small bottle of eyedrops and putting some on his eyes. His eyes were terribly dry. His owl stood on his desk, staring at him with its adorable doe eyes. "Time to go, Astra." He whispered fondly, Astra leaped into the birdcage before Ron locked it up.

The beautiful owl that Percy bought for him. It was so adorable, he named her Astra, Latin for Star. The rest of his luggage has already been loaded into his new trunk. He was, for the first time, excited for school.

He was a prefect--a prefect! Ron still could not believe it. He made sure to pack the medicine Blaide gave him and the vials of dreamless sleep. At least dreamless sleep helped sometimes, though mostly, his magic would overpower it and give him a vision anyway. It was annoying.

"I'm here," Ron announced loudly as he stepped into the kitchen. "Oh! Scrambled eggs!" He almost drooled, Oliver smirked before bringing out a plate for him.

"Eat up, the Hogwarts Express is waiting."

Chapter Text

“Sirius is the secret keeper!”

Pettigrew screamed, as he ran away from Sirius’ pursuit of him. Sirius yelled at him to stop, telling to think it through—although it was late at night, they earned the confused stares of muggles, who had no idea what was happening.

“Peter!” Sirius called out, “Stop!”

But, Pettigrew didn’t, right after Sirius called out to him, Pettigrew pulled his wand out and cast a spell—something he couldn’t hear clearly. All of a sudden, the alley exploded, the screams of muggles who were just passing by were heard, some were able to call for help, while the others died immediately.

Ron stood there, accidentally moving a little too close. He saw an arm be flung into the air, landing right in front of him, making him wretch. Oh merlin.

Just at his feet, a woman’s arm, with golden bracelets and glittery green nail polish. The bone was severed, and he could see it so, so clearly—he wanted to gouge his eyes out, if it meant saving him from engraving these deaths even farther into his mind. Even though he already knew—he could never forget anything after he has laid eyes on it. Because, forgetting wasn’t easy.

Ron wanted to cry, to leave this moment—but he couldn’t. His knees suddenly felt like jelly, threatening to collapse right then and there. He barely noticed the burn on his arm, it stung, but he couldn’t register it.

Sirius managed to protect himself with a strong barrier spell, almost unaffected by Pettigrew’s spell. When the explosion happened, all that was left of Pettigrew was his finger. Ron stood there, as Sirius looked down on that finger and cackled loudly.

Almost immediately, the ministry was alerted, and arrived at the scene. Sirius was still laughing, before it deteriorated into a flood of tears. Fresh blood clung to his long hair, with a small burn on his neck.

“Peter has betrayed them.”

Sirius said in the most stable voice he could muster—though, still shaken. His entire body trembled violently, and blood stained his entire figure. His clothes were crimson, with the blood of twelve muggles, and his eyes were mad.

He held on to the legs of the ministry official who looked down on him with nothing but disgust and utter disdain. “You have to believe me—Peter is alive! He’s turned to You-Know-Who!” Despite his relentless begging, not one of the nine officials budged.

Sirius looked miserable, covered in blood, with one singular finger blown off right in front of him. It was Peter Pettigrew’s finger. The bone was showing, the blood was still fresh, as the finger started to pale as the blood started to flow out.

The ministry official stared at Sirius, his fierce gaze unwavering. “Everyone knows, Mr Black, that you are the secret keeper of the Potters.” He stated, “Arrest him, now.”

“I’m not the secret keeper!” Sirius wailed, before a maniacal laugh took over his tears, the officials backed away, suddenly afraid of his outburst. Nevertheless, Sirius was slammed on to the concrete sidewalk as his arms were bound with an Incarcerous. “Peter lied—I-I’m not the secret keeper, he is!”

Sirius was the person James Potter trusted the most, if a secret keeper was someone who was most loyal to the witch and wizard, for James and Lily Potter, that loyal someone was Sirius Black. They wouldn’t even dream of accusing Pettigrew, who had died from the explosion.

No one believed him.

They looked at him.

Like he was a murderer.

As Ron looked around the area, he noticed the scattered bodies of those twelve muggles. Various parts of their mutilated bodies were blown off into different directions, the sight almost made Ron sick. No-- he felt sick.

Some had their eyeballs hanging from their eye sockets, their hands barely attached to their wrists, and some had their heads blown off from their necks. It didn’t help that Ron’s eyes were very perceptive. He could see everything so clearly, in full detail. Despite being in a vision, he still kept his physical body, and he threw up.

His stomach churned as he spotted their cracked bones, their flesh separating, and the burns on what remained of their bodies. It was gross—disgusting. It was the first time Ron had seen death, and he could barely stomach what he just witnessed.

Some of the ministry officials who arrived at the scene began to erase the memories of the muggles that had juat witnessed what happened, they blamed it on a ‘gas explosion’ to conceal the fact Pettigrew used dark magic. But, they didn’t know that, only he did, and Sirius. While no one could see him, no one believed Sirius.

“Sirius Black, you are under arrest for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles, along with conspiring with Voldemort and revealing the location of the Potters, as their secret keeper.”

The entire time Sirius was dragged away in ropes, he kept denying his involvement in the death of his best friends, while Ron remained a bystander and watched as he was apparated away, most likely to Azkaban. Since Sirius was famously thrown into Azkaban without a trial.

By the time he faded out of the vision, Ron had finally processed what death was.

Platform nine and three quarters was crowded, as expected. It was the time to finally leave for the new school year, after all. Ron noticed the stares he got, which he could barely discern as negative or positive, he hoped the latter.

Both Percy and Oliver moved their schedules to after he and Ginny got on the train, because they both did not want to leave them on their own. Oliver woke up earlier than usual, and cooked them both up some snacks for the ride. Oliver made them both a delicious stacked sandwich with focaccia bread. It smelled heavenly. Ron had to resist the urge to just eat it at that very moment.

They did ask about the burn on his arm, but he blamed it on accidentally spilling hot water on his hands after trying to make coffee. He didn’t even like coffee. They knew he was lying.

He gripped the handle of his cart tightly, the air was different, and he loved that. Usually, his mother would be busy fussing over his siblings, ignoring him and leaving him standing in their shadows.

Now, it was different. Percy fussed over him like a doting father, while Oliver cared for them genuinely. Ron adored Oliver, he made Percy happy, and treated them amazingly during the entire summer break. He hoped they stayed together for a long time, if not forever.

“You have everything?"

"For the tenth time, yes." Ron grumbled, they had just gotten through the wall between platforms nine and ten. Ginny followed through with her finger combing her new hair.

Ginny dyed her hair, only a thin streak on the front, though. She cut her hair above her shoulders and fluffed it up, it made her look like an entirely new person. She wore medium-sized sapphire earrings on her lobes, with silver moon piercings decorating her entire ear. Ron had gotten them as well, they both went to get their ears pierced--It hurt, but he looked badass.

Whilst Ginny got moon jewelry, Ron decided on stars. It reflected his interests in astronomy well, it was beautiful. What he didn't mention yet, was that he and Ginny snuck out to get their ear ls pierced, since Oliver and Percy only agreed on the lobes, and denied the other parts. Well, they were furious that they snuck out without telling anyone, but complimented their piercings.

Percy huffed, "Just making sure--"

“I have my wand, I packed all my robes, The new potion ingredients I bought are safely secured inside my trunk, and yes, I triple checked before we left.”

"...Fine." Percy sighed, dusting off imaginary dirt from his shoulder. "Send us a letter, you two." He said, looking in between him and Ginny.

Ginny nodded, "Of course, Perce." She answered, giggling. Before stepping forward and smacking her lipgloss on Percy and Oliver's cheeks. "You two are like our parents now, send me an invitation when you get married, I would gladly be the flower girl.” She said with a wink.

Oliver suddenly turned beet red, making Ron smirk. He already saw it when he went to sleep, he usually hated having visions while asleep, but seeing Oliver order a ring with the intention of proposing to Percy in a few months was worth losing a bit of sleep. Percy spluttered, reprimanding Ginny for her words, though his ears turned crimson.

"Soon." Ron said, earning a raised brow from Percy, although none of them ellaborated any further.

There was a slight curious glint in Ginny’s eyes, that he knew something, something that he wasn’t saying. It’s not that he was scared of telling his family, but the potential dangers of letting anyone else know was gnawing at him. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but drop subtle hints about what knew.

Nevertheless, Oliver has the sense to check the time and shoves them both near the Hogwarts express doors.

Percy smiles--beams, hugging his two youngest siblings close and pressing kisses on their foreheads with a long sigh. “I heavily regret that I couldn’t do this earlier,” He murmured, staring at them both in the eyes, his gaze as soft as one a mother held. “You both will do amazing. Fourth and fifth year already, send Ollie or I letters when you need anything—and, I mean, absolutely anything. That includes murder and law-breaking, I’ll find a way.”

Ginny hummed melodically, “You’re such a worrywart…or a mother hen. Ron and I would have loved it if you did this sooner, we’ll miss you and Oliver.” She replied, glancing at Oliver, who had his arms crossed over his chest, watching their interaction with a fond grin on his lips.

“I wi—We will.” Ron whispered, feeling that spot on his forehead tingle with how excited he was. He held onto Percy for a bit longer, “Thank you, for everything.” After a few seconds of hesitance, he pecked his lips on Percy’s cheek with a slight blush, before moving onto Oliver. He hugged his future brother-in-law and kissed his cheek as well.

He wanted to leave for Hogwarts, but he did not want to leave Percy and Oliver yet. They were the only reason he wasn’t walking on eggshells anymore, and was finally out of the burrow. Oliver exhaled, softly ruddling Ron’s multicolored hair.

“Good luck on your OWLS.” Oliver whispered, so, so patient. “You are an amazing person, Ron. But, you two will quite literally miss the train if you don’t board in exactly five minutes.”

Ron froze, and he felt Ginny do so too. He groaned loudly, “You just had to remind me of my OWLS, didn’t you?” He sulked, feeling Ginny and Percy approach behind him.

“Well, your OWLS are important, and Ginny is taking them next year. Don’t slack off on studying.” Percy stated with a flick of his fonger on Ron’s nose, making him gasp in mock-offence, his nose bridge turning into an embarrassing shade of red.

“Oh yeah,” Ginny grinned, patting Ron’s back in an exaggerated manner. “Good luck on your OWLS, big bro.”

Ron groaned louder.

They finally got on the Hogwarts express with three—almost two minutes on the clock. Ginny suddenly got sentimental when they were about to aboard, Ron had to pry her off of Percy and Oliver like a bug.

“’Mione’s on cart four,” She said excitedly, stars in her eyes. “Let’s go, Ron!” After Ron finally managed to throw their luggage on the compartment, he sighed with sweat all over his body and followed Ginny, who ran around the train looking for cart number four.

For some reason, he found himself wondering what cart Blaise was in. He totally did not want to be in the same cart as him. Totally. “Gin, slow down!” Ron called out, exasperated, and tired.

“Hermione!” She squealed when the door opened, to reveal Hermione sitting with both Draco and Harry. After Ron finally caught up to his little sister, his t-shirt clung to his body with all the sweat, he felt a tad bit sticky—and gross.

Hermione looked up from her book when the door opened, her face lighting up when she saw who it was. “Ginny!” She exclaimed, putting her book down, she was reading Jane Austen again, a classic.

They both hugged each other tightly, before Hermione pulled Ginny down next to her. “I’ve been waiting for you, what took so long, Gin?” She asked, pulling away and taking Ginny’s smooth hand in hers.

“Got caught up talking to Percy and Oliver, Percy kept fussing over us, especially Ron.” She huffed, “He asked Ron if he had his wand on him nine times.” She said, trying to imitate Percy.

“…I never took your brother as the overworried type.” Hermione snickered.

Ron rolled his eyes, “He always was, just surpressed that instinct.” He chimed in, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, “Now, stop flirting, and sit down.”

“Jealous?” Commented Ginny, sticking her tongue out like a toddler. Ron raised a brow at his little sister and huffed, while Hermione sighed amorously.

“I am not jealous, especially not of her.” Ron snarked back, playfully glaring at his best friend, who faked a dramatic gasp.

“Wow, I am so affected.” Hermione retorted, “However shall I live with this information?”

Harry groaned loudly from the seat, leaning his head back as Draco slept soundly on his shoulder. Ron squinted his eyes, for some reason, Draco seemed to have gotten charming, well, he always was, not that Ron would ever admit such a thing. But, he was…glowing, with a strange air of fierceness and something unknown.

“Is Draco alright?” Ron questioned, eyes gleaming towards the blonde, tilting his head and examining him. “He didn’t sleep well last night, I suppose?”

His best friend nodded, “Kept waking up due to some nightmares, I can’t imagine falling asleep after those.” He explained, while gently caressing the boy’s platinum blonde hair, which seemed..whiter, paler.

It almost made him look otherworldly.

“Yeah, been dealing with insomnia myself, and the nightmares, I can relate.” Harry nodded before they did a high-five, grinning at each other. Merlin, he was so proud of Harry for finally getting Draco.

After Hermione and Ginny finally got off each other and sat down, Ron was left staring at the full cart and pondering—where was he going to stay?

Harey noticed immediately, “God, the cart is full.” He whispered, “Draco was supposed to sit with his friends but fell asleep, and it isn’t like I can just wake him up….” He added, biting his nails while thinking of a solution.

Well, it wasn’t really an issue. Ron also felt sympathetic about Draco, for the whole entire summer, he barely slept, with all his visions—he sometimes considers nightmares—and his insomnia.

He was able to put his power under wraps, but Oliver and Percy funally started to wonder why he’d prefer to eat upstairs, in his room, or locked himself in his room often. He was scared of having a vision in front of them, he loved Percy and Oliver, he really did—but he couldn’t tell them. Not while Percy works for the minister of magic, and not while Oliver’s safety could be compromised. Hell, he hasn’t even told Ginny—he learned to be paranoid of anyone knowing on accident after George.

Before Harry could make his rambling worse, or with Hermione about to swotch carts, Ron stopped them. “It isn’t a huge issue, I can find another cart.” He said with a shrug, the guilt on his friends’ and sister’s faces were immediate.

“They’re your friends, you should stay, I can go look for Luna instead.” Ginny chimed in, standing up, before falling down with an ‘oof’ after Hermione pulled her down, shaking her head.

“You can stay with Ron, I can go look for another cart.” Hermione argued, playing with Ginny’s hair. “Not an issue at all, really.”

Harry sighed. “No—"

Ron rolled his eyes again, “I’m going to look for Blaise.” He yelled, cutting his friends off. “It’s just a train ride, I can find somewhere else.” He said, cutting them off and leaving no room for rebuttal. Before they could say anything else, Ron stepped out and shut the door in their faces.

He felt amazing doing that. He understood his friends, they had their partners, they loved them, and wanted to be with each other. Just because Ron wasn’t in a relationship yet, it didn’t mean he didn’t understand.

They all have their own lives, they were still friends, something as simple as not being able to sit in the same cart as the other was going to break that. Sure, they had a habit—sort of tradition, where they always sat together, but that was because they only had each other back then.

Things were different now, they had others now. Of course, they would always have each other. They faced too many together to become strangers. Quirrell, the Basilisk, Dementors, and Voldemort. Their souls were practically woven with each others, bound forever even after they wither.

Anyways, he has also found a new excuse to go find Blaise. He was nervous sure, but he was also Ron Weasley, who was starting to become more confident in himself, who was getting stronger, and better.

The Blaise he knew in fourth year was different than the Blaise he met in Diagon Alley. It was obvious, Blaise smiled more, his usually calm but hostile tone turned into something…softer, more mature. Like, from someone who finally saw what else the world had to offer. Ron loved it, Blaise wasn’t just Zabini to him anymore.

Since his friends were on cart four, he peeked at the windows to catch Blaise, or..someone else he knew, like Neville, who was usually with Seamus or Luna Lovegood.

“Oh!” Someone piped up from behind him, making him turn his head. “Is that you, Weasley?” It was Cormac McLaggen, someone he hasn’t seen since beating him for the position of keeper last year.

Ron stared—forcing a polite smile. “McLaggen,” He greeted, the McLaggens were big in the ministry, he often heard Percy complain about McLaggen’s father and uncle. “Do you need anything?” Hopefully not, please don’t ask him anything.

McLaggen grinned, very ominously—making Ron shiver slightly. “Guess who’s trying to fit in, now.” He teased, patting Ron’s shoulder hard enough to ache.

“Uhm, not really, no.” Ron answered, rubbing his shoulder, that tensed in a small pain. “Why do you ask?” He questioned hesitantly.

“Well,” McLaggen started, “You look nothing like you did last year, trying to impress someone?” It sounded normal—to others, that was. But, Ron could dissect that sarcastic, mocking tone anywhere.

Having been a victim of it, he knew better than anyone. The way McLaggen looked him up and down like some soft of prey made his fists clench, he hated that stare—one that meant nothing well.

Ron shook his head, “I’m not, even if I was, it isn’t any of your business, we aren’t close enough to know things about each other.” He firmly stated, making McLaggen’s fake smile twitch ever so slightly.

“Understandable.” McLaggen replied, faking a hurt expression, though Ron didn’t budge. “Well, I’ll be going now—and, you look better this year.” He winked, making Ron’s stomach recoil at the action.

Holy merlin.

Did Cormac McLaggen just flirt with him?

That was disgusting.

Ron rubbed his temples and did a few breathing exercises Oliver taught him a few weeks ago, fifth year hadn’t even officially started yet, and he was already getting into drama. To distract himself, he thought about his new position as prefect, after arriving at Hogwarts, he and Hermione would be the ones to lead the first years into the dorms, just like how Percy did when he was in his fifth year back then.

Okay, Ronald Weasley, you can do this!

He found it odd, that ever since he woke up, he hadn’t gotten a single vision, which was strange. But, he appreciated it, no random fainting yet—Ron started to move again, checking the windows before stopping in front of cart ten, where he saw Blaise sit with Greengrass and Parkinson right in front of him.

Perfect.

Ron slid the door open with carefulness, making a show of looking nervous. “Hey, uh, all the others are full, can I…”

“Sure.” Blaise replied immediately, not even letting Ron finish his sentence. “We have space for one more, since Draco ditched us for Potter.” He said, groaning.

“I know, he was sleeping on Harry’s shoulder earlier.” Ron replied, smirking. He stepped inside and closed the door, he took his seat next to Blaise.

He almost got lost in Blaise’s allure, he was still as beautiful as the last time Ron saw him, he seemed to have gotten a little bit taller, and his hair grew longer, making him look like he came out from a portrait.

“Ugh, really? Draco left us for a man?” Parkinson finally spoke up, she had her head rested on the window with her arms crossed as Greengrass quietly ate a chocolate frog while reading a book.

Greengrass huffed—smirking, “It seems so, dear.” She answered her girlfriend. “Well, it isn’t too bad, I suppose. At least we have Weasley with us, now.” She added with an appreciative look towards Ron.

He had no idea Greengrass was fond of him at all, but he wasn’t complaining. “Mhm, yeah.” Blaise mumbled, turning to Ron and offering him a full jar of pumpkin juice. “Want some?” He offered.

Ron’s expression brightened immediately—he loved pumpkin juice. “Thanks,” he replied, taking the bottle. It was full, and unopened—his favorite drink being offered to him, how lucky was that?

“Did you guys take on any extra classes this year?” Asked Parkinson, who yawned.

“I’m taking Arithmancy, I dropped divination for it.” Blaise offered with a shrug. Honestly, Ron pondered on dropping divination as well, but decided not to—he had a feeling he would be doing better anyways.

Parkinson booed, “Boo, you nerd.” She laughed, making Blaise roll his eyes. “I didn’t drop anything, I’m still taking Divination and Care for Magical Creatures. I am way too stupid for math related subjects.”

“No you aren’t, Pansy.” Greengrass objected, shaking her head. “You just—”

“--Need to put my mind to it, I know, darling.” Parkinson cut in, finishing her girlfriend’s sentence. “Still, I don’t like arithmancy or ancient runes.” Greengrass didn’t bother correcting Parkinson anymore, she let out an airy sigh and left it at that.

“Oh, I’m taking ancient runes, I dropped divination for it, thought it would be cool.”

Blaise hummed. “So, we both dropped divination, huh?” He chuckled, “I never really understood it, thought it was bollocks.” He puffed.

Divination was difficult—and, Ron was able to see into the past, not the future. He did not need divination, since it did not help him in his ability. He would much rather take something else, and Ron has decided on the Study of Ancient Runes. With his eyes, he might be able to actually focus in class. Care for Magical Creatures was his extra subject, it was interesting, and hesitated to drop it. He never did, and now he was taking three extra classes.

Just like Blaise, he took up Arithmancy. For some reason, after he had his magical inheritance longer, he started to itch for something—something more difficult, one he can dissect into small pieces.

Normally, dropping two subjects at once wouldn’t be allowed, but Dumbledore gave him a special pass. Since, according to him, his magical inheritance has changed him, and now his interests vary. In fact, Dumbledore was the one who suggested he took on different courses that suited him.

Ron knows the old headmaster was expecting much from him, and so, he will try his best to live up to those expectations. And plus, he has started to practice his brewing with Percy, since his older brother achieved only A’s and O’s in potion back then. His attention still shifted sometimes, which led to his cauldron overheating, and making small explosions, but he was getting better.

Progress was progress, as Oliver said.

His occlumency lessons were going well, he would continue them until he could prove he was a half-decent occlumens, as Snape said. It was rather irritating, that Snape was a better teacher at occlumency than potions, his main subject. And so, he also found out that Snape was a death eater.

Well, double agent.

He’s still marked.

But, still. Ron has no idea what to make of his potions professor after what little he has seen of him, in both the past and present. The old dungeon bat was a complicated puzzle, and Ron still hasn’t fully understood his motives.

“Not nonsence, it’s just..not for everyone.” Ron replied, “Divination was useful, but Professor Trelawney doesn’t teach very well, if I’m being honest.”

Parkinson’s eyes lit up. “See! That’s what I’m saying, she exaggerates her predictions too much, and very often frightens the younger student with her love for drama.”

“Agreed.” Greengrass offered, using her wand to conjure her a cup of tea. “Anyone up for chamomile tea?”

“I’ll take some.” Ron piped up, “Merlin, I’m glad we agree on something.”

Blaise chuckled, “You two are more alike than you think, from my perspective.”

Parkinson grinned mischievously, “Wow, Blaise. I can’t believe you gatekept him from us! Selfish, aren’t ‘ya?”

“Pansy…” Blaise warned with a glare.

“Merlin, you can never take a joke.” Parkinson huffed, crossing her arms with a yawn. “Ah, and Weasley. You don’t need to be so formal with Daph’ and I, just call me Pansy, I don’t really like being affiliated with my family name.”

“Call me Daphne, too.” Greengrass smiled softly, sipping her tea carefully. “Can we call you Ron?”

Ron nodded, smiling. “You sure can. I think the ‘me’ back then would have been furious that the ‘me’ now was befriending Slytherins.” He added as he cackled, “I used to be terrible, merlin.

“Oh, I would have too.” Blaise hummed. “I had a very strong hatred for Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors especially.”

“I, as well.” Pansy chimed in, “Why were all such morons in fourth year?”

“It’s a universal experience.” Daphne replied, sighing. “Well, we have all matured now, no use dwelling on what we did as children. I had my fair experience of embarrassing myself.”

Blaise rolled his eyes, “We all did, honestly.”

The conversation drifted after that, he got his chamomile tea from Daphne—woah, he just made new friends—it was…actually really potent, the effects kicked in along with his insomnia pills, the ones Blaise gifted him, and before he did, he covered his face with a jacket and fell asleep.

“So, you had some sort of epiphany?”

Was the first thing Pansy asked when Ron had fallen asleep, Daphne didn’t bother to interrupt their conversation, as she was too immersed in her book. Blaise rolled his eyes again, and glared at his best friend.

“Yes, I did.” He answered. “I already..told you, didn’t I? Ron deserves someone better than me, I want to be that someone.

Pansy sighed, “You were willing to throw everything away for a boy?” She questioned, although she already what Blaise would reply with, he was too predictable, sometimes.

“I already did.”

Blaise replied, resisting the urge to pull down the jacket that covered Ron’s face as he slept soundly. He wanted to see his hair shine under the brightness of the sun, he wanted to see all of him.

“He’s smitten,” Daphne offered helpfully, flipping from page to page. “I recall Blaise sending me a five page letter after he had a meeting with Wea-Ron at Diagon Alley.”

“Daphne!” Blaise chastised, his cheeks turning red. “You promised not to tell anyone!”

Daphne chuckled, “Well, I tell my girlfriend everything, especially when it comes to embarrassing you.” She added, making Blaise groan.

“We tell each other everything.” Pansy repeated as she stuck a tongue out towards Blaise like a child. “Still, you are a lovesick fool.” She said, giving him a look.

It’s true, Blaise was very lovesick, and a fool. He was willing to become so, for Ron Weasley. Only a few people knew that he was in love with Ron, those he knew he could trust. Pansy, Draco, and Daphne. Theo found out on his own, and so did Granger. He was a bit stupid to act so boldly in the school library, where Hermione Granger basically lived in.

It was a moment of foolishness, where Blaise let go of everything for just one minute. He had been resisting his desires for Ron, not even allowing himself one moment of acting those desires out. Blaise wanted to wrap his arms around Ron, snog him senseless, and intertwine his fingers in his soft hair. Blaise wanted to fall asleep counting his scattered freckles, staring into his sapphire blue eyes.

His hair was like fire, blazing like the brightest flames under the fiery gaze of the sun. Ron’s eyes lustred like the most precious jewels, the shiniest sapphires, more expensive than any stone. Blaise wonders what it would be like to be lost in Ron’s ocean blue eyes, he wanted to spend every hour, every minute, and every millisecond trapped under his tranquil gaze.

Blaise wasn’t close enough to Ron to be intrepid enough. Sure, they exchanged letters over the summer, they met in person once for the whole break. They weren’t familiar enough to be…like that.

These fantasies, he kept it to himself, Blaise didn’t want to be the him before, the over-confident, egotistical him. Ron hated everything he used to be, which is why Blaise changed.

It was hard, at first—but the thought of Ron finally directing a smile at him is what kept him going. Blaise would stroll the garden of his family home, the hydrangea’s reminded him of Ron. His mother called him an entirely new person.

“See? Lost in thought.” Pansy scowled, “You spaced out on us for a moment.”

“Or two.” Daphne added, humming as she chewed on pumpkin pasties—Blaise did not know where she attained that. The snack tray hadn’t even made its way here yet.

Blaise groaned, “Leave me alone.”

They finally arrived at Hogwarts when the night sky took over the evening firmament. They docked the horseless carriages—which…had horses, weird ones, this time, Ron went with Harry and Hermione, with Neville and Luna hitching in with them

Draco finally woke up, and caught up to his friends. He still had that strange aura surrounding his entire being, which Ron had finally discovered. He was a creature. Well, a creature inheritance, more like.

He was correct in covering his face as he slipped into slumber, when he woke up, his eyes were once again dripping with blood, as his nose bled ink. The others almost saw, but Ron quickly ran to the bathroom before they could. He had another vision about the Malfoys.

The better one, to be frank. Draco was evolving—turning into an entirely different being. A creature, a Veela. Which explained his sudden shinier hair and powerful aura.

Someone from the Malfoy bloodline had creature blood, which so happened that Draco inherited and manifested that ability from thousands of years ago. The other creatures he knew—Vampires, Furies, Selkies, and Wolves, the Veela was the only creature that fit the description of what Draco was experiencing.

When Ron continued to stare the…horses, so did Harry. “You two can see them, can’t you?” Luna piped up, her wavy blonde hair covering her face as she smiled knowingly.

“I saw them the first time in second year, never told anyone.” Harry replied. “They’re thestrals, right? Creatures who can only be seen by those who have seen death.”

Luna nodded, “Correct. Mine was my mother’s, she was a very whimsical witch. She loved her potions, until one caused her death.” She added, while Neville and Hermione seemed confused.

“Your mother seemed amazing.” Harry whispered. “Mine was also my mother’s, I was a baby, but I still saw her die,”

Harry turned to stare at Ron, who had just started processing the information he had just heard. Thestrals. Creatures who can only be seen by those who have witnessed death. Ron has never seen death, only in a vision—and, he had his answer.

“Explosion. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Neville seemed curious, but didn’t push on the topic. Hermione already knew what thestrals were, having seen them in a textbook while doing advanced studying for Care of Magical Creatures.

It was a weird, fresh sight for Ron. The carriages he assumed were pulled by magic, were actually being pulled by thestrals. Merlin, they looked terrifying, a good type of frightening.

“God, I can’t believe I’m riding with both the Gryffindor prefects.” Harry teased, staring at the golden badges pinned to their robes.

Neville chuckled. “Same! You two are going to be amazing.”

Hermione smirked, “Well, seems like you can’t sneak out anymore, as a prefect, I will have to punish you.” She glanced at Ron, who understood what she was saying almost immediately.

“The next time our dear Harry sneaks out, we should bring him straight to Professor Snape.” Ron chimed in, a smug grin on his lips. “And…make him clean cauldrons..” although it wasn’t directed at him, Neville couldn’t help but shiver at the mention of the potions master.

Harry groaned loudly, his head in between his hands. “I get it, I get it! No sneaking out!”

“We’re glad you understand.” Hermione said, punching Ron’s shoulder playfully, making him cackle loudly.

After they arrived at the castle, they walked around a bit more. Hermione helped guide two first years who were a bit lost, they joked around a bit, and with the constant apologizing they did for the train ride, Ron got annoyed, despite telling them everything was alright, he didn’t mind.

Neville and Luna went along together, hand in hand. Ron has been suspecting them since they danced at the Yule ball, they looked magical. It upset Ron that he had yet to gain a vision of them.

He longed for romance, one way or another.

Luna was a very mysterious girl, she was in the same year as Ginny, they were quite good friends. With her dashing, knowing misty eyes and playinum blonde hair, it was quite obvious she held the Malfoy blood. Ron didn’t know how they were related yet, but Lucius Malfoy did have an unnamed younger brother.

When they arrived inside Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall did her introduction as she did every time for the first years.

“You will be sorted into houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw.”

Merlin, he missed being a first year. Not with all the drama about Quirrell being possessed by Voldemort, though. That was a nightmare—for Harry.

As they sat in their respective house tables, the sorting began. They got a bunch of Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws. When a first year was sorted into Slytherin, only silence ensued, before the kid burst into tears, at the fact that only the Slytherin table seemed happy, Ron quickly clapped his hands, which influenced his fellow housemates. Due to his authority as a prefect, definitely.

He and Blaise shared a look from across the room when he did. Blaise smirked, biting his lip as he prevented himself from breaking into a fit of laughter. He looked adorable—and so, so handsome.

“First years, this way!” Hermione yelled, standing in front of a large crowd of new Gryffindors.

Ron stood beside her, “Follow along,” He loudly instructed, checking his back ever so often to check if everybody was able to follow. Merlin, he felt so powerful!

He and Hermione had to attend a meeting later on after settling in the dorms with the other prefects from the three other houses, to assign schedules and explaining their duties as prefects.

This must be how Percy felt, no wonder why his elder brother was so pompous, if Ron was as successful and intelligent as he was, he might have developed an ego as well.

After helping the first years into their dorms, he and Hermione attended the prefect meeting. The current head boy and girl were assigning the patrol schedules. Slytherin’s prefects would be patrolling with Gryffindor from Monday to Wednesday, Thursday to Friday would be Gryffindor with Ravenclaw.

Blaise and Daphne were the chosen prefects of Slytherin, which was wonderful, they were both responsible and good.

He had no idea the life of a prefect would be so exhausting, all Ron wanted to do tonight was roll into his bed and sleep for two whole days without anyone disturbing him.

The dark arts were interesting--He concluded. Ron had plans to sneak into the restricted section soon and grab more books about dark magic and history , it would be a semi-difficult task, even with his inhuman eyesight. Filch was scarily sneaky, and noisy.

Maybe, he could use his position as a prefect to stay out during the night? Sure, it was some sort of power abuse, but Ron couldn't think of anything else. What really interested him in that old, dark book was the horcrux.

A horcrux, it was an object where a witch or wizard had hidden a detached fragment of their soul in order to achieve immortality as long as the receptacle remained intact, so too did the soul fragment inside it, keeping the maker anchored to the world of the living, even if their body suffered fatal damage.

What followed next, 'The horcrux could only be created after commiting the supreme act of evil, murder.' Ron read for hours about the process, his stomach churning as he went on. What confused him was the scribbled handwritten notes next to the descriptions. The first known maker of the horcrux was by Herpo the Foul from ancient Greece...and Tom Riddle.

Who wrote this? He asked himself, someone already had their hands on this book long before he did.

Interesting, but frightening.

Could it be Regulus? After all, this book is what triggered his first ever vision of the past. Retrocognition, his magical inheritance, was strong, after Snape had done some research on Magical Inheritances, no retrocognition ability until his was this potent.

Ron knew there was a price to pay for meddling with the dark arts, and he was willing to pay whatever price he needed to pay. If it meant saving Harry’s life, Ron was willing to risk everything. Voldemort was after Harry, he guessed as much when Harry came back from the maze with a half-dead Cedric Diggory. Speaking of Hogwarts’ golden boy, he was doing better.

His injuries were severe, but with the proper treatment, Cedric was able to make a full recovery—though his body was riddled with nasty scars from a failed Avada Kedavra.

Ron, despite wanting to just fall asleep, Ron was too immersed in the book he was reading. He engraved everything he read about into his memory using a mental knife. There were categories—blood magic, necromancy, rituals, and soul magic. Feom the necromacy category, which was one of the forbidden magic to cast, he finally identified what killed Regulus Black.

A re-animated corpse, with no mind or will of its own, with its only mission to serve the will of its master. They were pale, ghastly, stiff, but strong. An inferi.

Voldemort must have created the inferi, after reading about what a horcrux was, Ron had a suspicion that the Locket of Slytherin, and the Diadem of Ravenclaw were most likely horcruxes. Which explained why Tom Riddle hid the diadem in a mysterious room, and hid the locket in a cave. They held shards of his soul.

Until now, Ron was unable to locate the room where Tom Riddle placed the diadem, as it appeared from the wall.

One day, he was going to find that room.

And make Voldemort pay, for messing with his friends.

Chapter Text

Blaise heavily disliked winter.

He hated the cold, and having to wear heavy coats just so he won't freeze to death was a nuisance. The snow always covered his manor, making it look ugly and unkempt before the elves took care of it. Moreover, his mother was prone to allergies in the winter.

When fourth year rolled around, Blaise did not have many good expectations for the year. He knew something would happen--regarding Potter again, since it always did. Everything always had to center Harry Potter, all because he was unfortunate enough to have that lightning scar on the side of his forehead.

First year was Quirrell, their Defense Against The Dark Arts professor. He had died one day, out of the blue, and rumor had it, that Potter had something to do with it--nobody ever found out the truth. Blaise remembered Professor Quirrell as a wuss, a coward, someone who wasn't even able to teach a single lesson properly due to his anxiety and trauma after his encounter with the vampires.

Quirrell only ever taught them about the vampires, how to avoid them, survive them, or possibly escape those creatures--nothing else. It was annoying. Blaise wouldn't call him a good teacher, but someone who was below decent. Blaise recalled wanting out of the class after the tenth lesson about vampires.

In second year, it was the Chamber of Secrets. The Chamber of Salazar Slytherin had been mysteriously opened, once again, Potter was at the center of it all--having slayed the monster that lurked inside the Chamber. Blaise recollected the memory of being over the moon after the Chamber was opened, which Slytherin wouldn't be giddy? It was also the year that Gilderoy Lockhart was exposed for his misdeeds and lies.

Gilderoy Lockhart, who had once dominated the Wizarding World with his charm and popularity, no longer had any memory of who he was--bound to spend the rest of his life confined in St Mungo's.

Blaise had never fallen for that blinding smile, perfectly gelled hair, and perfume that made him smell oddly like someone, he always found someone like Lockhart ot he impossible, all his achievements seemed exaggerated, and it was. Lockhart's plan originally was to obliviate Potter and take credit for the Chamber. It was no shock that Lockhart was a crook, well, to Blaise, at least.

Third year, Sirius Black escaped Azkaban without any help, and was suspected of sneaking inside Hogwarts to take out Potter, just like he had done to his parents. Professor Lupin was an amazing teacher, he taught them about various topics, not just vampires. Blaise thought the boggart was quite interesting. Longbottoms's boggart was Professor Snape--while Potter's was a dementor. Draco's was his own father, Pansy's a deatheater, and Daphne's was her grandfather.

When it was finally Blaise's turn to face the boggart, it appeared as his mother's fourth husband. Blaise froze at first, before casting riddikulus, watching as the boggart shifted between forms.

One of the men his mother married was a creep. Blaise remembered the way that man's hands would move across his body, touching his neck, the ghost of his disgusting touch lingered on Blaise's wrists. When he had finally confessed to his mother about what her husband had been doing to him--Blaise was barely six years old.

He remembers crying in his mother's arms, something he hadn't done since he was born. Blaise confessed that he would sneak into his room when everyone was asleep, get in bed with him, and took pictures of him. All the while, he had bruises pressed on various parts of his body.

His mother barely reacted, only touching Blaise's swollen cheek and apologizing with concealed fury in her eyes. The next day, his mother's husband had died. Brutally. He was dismembered, his head missing, his hands cut off neatly, and his manhood had been pulled off aggressively. As expected, his mother was left with the man's riches and fortune after he died, as his wife and main beneficiary. Mother surprised him with a trip to their beach house a week later.

One day, before he went to sleep, his mother snuck into his room and promised Blaise that no one would ever touch him like that without the most severe consequences. Blaise knew his mother had killed her fourth husband, but she never told him that, outright.

Blaise supposed it was his mother's never-ending guilt, as she continued to spoil him even more after that incident. His allowance was brought up by millions, every birthday was an extraordinary gala decorated in gold and shining pearls and diamonds. Perhaps, that is where Blaise had developed his...expensive tastes. His mother disliked half-bloods, and so did he. When the Weasley's betrayed their own blood by associating with muggles, his mother also disliked them. So did Blaise.

Then...how come, Blaise felt attracted to Ronald Weasley?

It was a complete accident, and something Blaise had never expected to happen. He..had no idea why he began to feel that way towards someone he openly looked down on even before Hogwarts.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived may have been the subject of everyone's attention,  the one to catch his eye was not Potter, but the red-headed boy who was barely noticed outside of being Potter's friend. Ron Weasley. The youngest son of Molly Prewett and Arthur Weasley, Blaise remembered Draco's father having a feud with Arthur Weasley. They butted heads a lot, too often, almost every encounter led to a fight. Some were physical, and the two gentlemen were scolded by their wives.

Ron Weasley had nothing to make him stand out. Other than being a Weasley and Potter's best friend, that is. Blaise thought he was rather ordinary, although, he knew Weasley would be a great beauty, like his sister, if he was aware of his potential. As a child, and the heir of House Zabini, he was taught to recognize potential, for the future, once he finally succeeds his mother.

Heaps of the wealth his family owned came from his mother's husbands. His mother married her last and seventh husband when Blaise was nine. When he passed away from an illness before Blaise's third year, his mother vowed to never marry again which shocked many. The infamous Black Widow never marrying again?

It was quite the scandal.

And that was when Blaise realized, his mother had fallen in love for the first time. All of her past husbands were purely there for politics, and so was the seventh--Blaise wondered, what made him different? Well, that was the thing. His mother's seventh husband, was no husband at all--but; rather, a beautiful, manly woman. She had been disguised as a man for political purposes, and his mother only realized after finalizing the marriage contract.

Blaise did not mind having another mother, it was actually a breath of fresh air. He actually thought of the woman his mother married as highly intelligent. Not many are able to trick Evelyn Zabini successfully; and into a marriage, at that. They could not divorce either, since their marriage had their magic bound. Severing that bond could lead to permanent damage.

He had enough of all the step-fathers that would come into his life randomly. Seraphina, who was called Dominic as a man, was an amazing lady. She rode horses with no fear, made his mother smile, and treated Blaise like she had given birth to him. Seraphina had gorgeous, curly dirty blonde hair in a pixie cut. Her eyes were a hypnotizing purple, which was an odd but interesting shade for an eye color.

Seraphina Greengrass, was a one-of-a-kind woman. She was about two years younger than his mother, as his mother gave birth to him at only nineteen.

Her presence made everything easy, and Blaise had actually come to calling Seraphina by a nickname--Sera. Blaise noticed his mother smiling more when Sera entered their lives, she baked an awful lot, which made his mother develop a horrid sweet tooth. Blaise wasn't a big fan of sweets, and Sera understood, she would make him other snacks instead. As the years went by, Blaise's favorite food became avocado toast. Seraphina always made it extra good.

Blaise had always wondered--after Sera passed away, and his mother vowed to never love another, would he also find someone who would make him love so strongly as his mother and Sera did?

Before Sera passed away, Blaise was at her bedside. She was nothing like the woman he met four years ago, she became ill at the end of his second year. Sera was poisoned by one of his mother's long-term enemies, she survived-- but the poison caused life-long damage to her organs, they began to weaken with the influence of the poison, and not long, Sera was too weak to even stand up, or eat on her own.

She had to be assisted with everything, even something as simple as lying down. Sera tried not to show it, but Blaise could see her discomfort and pain everyday. Everytime she swallowed a small bite of food, she would cough up blood, as her stomach was already ruined. The Greengrasses were informed, and only Daphne cared--she visited when she could, and Sera adored her so.

His mother began to neglect her duties as Lady of the House, no matter how much the affiliates of House Zabini begged her, she barely left Sera's side. Blaise temporarily stepped in and took care of the paperwork he could handle at his young  age. Although, most of the time, he worked while staying beside Sera as she slept.

Sera was his mother, too.

One night, when the healers had given up on Sera, stating that she would inevitably die, no matter what--his mother wept heavily, cradling her wife with tears streaming down her face. Blaise stared at them, as he held Sera's pale, boney hand. Sera stared at both he and his mother, and whispered softly.

"I'm not a pureblood, I lied."

And then, she was gone. Blaise always assumed she was a pureblood, as Sera was a Greengrass--but she was a half-blood, her mother was a Greengrass, but her father was a muggle. Sera left her diary to them, Blaise opened it after the funeral. She confessed to lying about her blood status to marry his mother, after falling in love with her at first sight. She had a deal with the Greengrasses, she would give them an important book they needed if they granted her the Greengrass name and arranged her marriage with Evelyn Zabini.

Blaise had no idea what the book was, and why it was so important. But, he didn't care--his mom was gone. Sera was gone. He couldn't care less about her lies--he just wanted her back. Blaise disliked half-bloods, but he could never hate Sera.

When fourth year came, Blaise felt empty. It was a week after Sera's one year death anniversary. He felt extra snappy and void of any emotion. He remembered during third year, he had just come back to Hogwarts after returning home for Sera's semi-annual anniversary, he was still in his mourning clothes.

He wanted to do nothing--All Blaise wanted was time alone. He recalled walking through the snowy paths, already cursing the sky for making it snow. It was winter, the season he hated the most--when all of a sudden, a snowball made contact with his face. Blaise was prepared to face the perpetrator and start raging, all of his emotions were in a mix.

"I'm sorry." A breathy, slightly high-pitched voice said. Blaise looked up to see Ron Weasley, wearing a red swear with a big 'R' and a shabby looking winter hat. "It was an accident." Weasley bowed his head in apology, before leaving in a hurry.

Blaise stood there, dumbfounded, watching as Weasley went back to Potter, who dusted off the snow from Weasley's mittens before tapping his nose playfully. Remnants of the snowball clung to Blaise's hair, slowly falling to the ground pathetically as his eyes were glued to the two Gryffindors.

Weasley laughed loudly, his sapphire eyes sparkling as he did. Blaise gulped, he was..so, so done for.

Winter was terrible.

"Ron likes you quite a bit." Luna suddenly said, her nose stuck in a book about magical creatures. Blaise had no idea what nargles were, and what purpose they had taking Luna's quills.

Blaise had gotten adequately close to Luna after they both started their own mini book club, with just them both--with Daphne sometimes joining in. Although Blaise does not dare associate himself with half-bloods, Luna was the one exception. She was smart, whimsical, and great company. And plus, she was Draco's cousin.

Luna's curly platinum blonde hair fell over her shoulders, the length of her hair was almost near her knees. It was usually kept in a high, messy bun, with a stick holding it still, but her favorite stick to use had suddenly gone missing--and Blaise knew it was the doing of the Ravenclaws who bullied Luna. He had plans to threaten whoever took her items to return them.

Blaise huffed. "You're bluffing." He replied, watching as Luna twirled her curly blonde hair with her fingers, an expression Blaise couldn't quite understand on her face.

"I don't lie." Luna said in a sing-song tone, her mysterious ash blue eyes that seemed to know everything gleamed even brighter. "Do you think me a liar, Blaise?" She questioned as she chuckled. Blaise pursed his lips together, unable to reply.

He had no answer for that. Blaise knew that Luna never lied, but after what she had just said, this might be her first ever bluff yet. "Maybe." Blaise simply replied, watching as Luna took a gentle sip of her sugary coffee. Blaise could never imagine intaking a full cup of sugar, it would have made him throw up.

"Why do you refuse to believe Ron does not dislike you as much as you think?" She asked once more, her gaze turning both curious, but knowing. "Sometimes Ron is an open book. You just have to observe him to understand his thoughts."

Blaise did not take Luna's words as the truth, especially since he never thought such a thing would be possible. Well, who would dare fall in love with him, at all? Blaise was difficult, immature, and egotistical. He would never admit this out loud, but he knew. Weasley wasn't raised as the traditional pureblood, everyone in the wizarding world knew that the Weasley family defied those traditions, and leaned towards the muggles instead.

"Weasley would rather kiss the bathroom floor than take a liking to me, or even talk to me about friendly topics." Blaise gruffly stated. Luna just stared at him, tilting her head to the side like a puppy. "I'm serious, Luna." He said, trying to prove his point.

"If that's what you want to believe in, I guess I can't interfere." Luna hummed. "Not yet, at least." She added with a quaint smirk, Blaise felt sweat drip from his forehead, he did not get nervous--usually.

But, Luna was very unpredictable--so unpredictable it made him nervous.

The Yule ball was not much. Sure, it was crowded with couples and the orchestra played all night, but Blaise couldn't find himself enjoying his time at all. He planned to dance with Daphne, but that was it. He was only danced with her because she was his partner, and it's not like she wanted to, either. Both were forced.

Blaise stood there, in a corner. Swirling his glass of juice around, there was nothing to do in a ball besides dancing, and the dance did not start for another few minutes. He wasn't a big fan of dancing, either. He felt his heart stutter when he spotted Weasley from across the ballroom, looking like a lost deer in headlights. Blaise put his lips on his glass, a smile involuntary forming on his lips.

Weasley looked ridiculously charming, with his lean figure and cute smile, Blaise felt his heart race while his entire body turned warm. Weasley looked ethereal in his dress robes, the colors--they were Slytherin green. Blaise's mind went through all sorts of directions, half-panicked and half-confused. Blaise gulped visibly--Merlin, he was such a loser.

He was all dressed up, and even from this distance, Blaise could see the light makeup on his face, which enhanced Weasley's allure even more--he was starting to realize his potential, and Blaise was unsure how his heart would take it--as it has already began doing flips. The silver complimented his palette well, and the sparkly eyeliner showed off his eyes well.

He must be lost again, and he looked adorable with what expression he had. Blaise felt like a stalker, his eyes following every move Weasley did. Merlin, he was gone. The center of the ballroom was filled with students from all three schools dancing elegantly to the music. Maybe he wouldn't think dancing was so bad if his partner was Weasley.

"You don't wish to dance?" Draco asked, taking a sip of his juice. There was a pleased smirk on his lips, and a faint kiss-mark on the side of his lips, likely--no, definitely from Potter. "It's a great night."

Blaise rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. "You only say that because you're enjoying yourself." He shot back. At his response, Draco cackled.

His best friend had finally made up with his.. what does he call it? Situationship? Blaise is unsure what that term meant, but it was great to see Draco finally being able to breathe normally without any heart attacks. In fairness, Blaise thinks Potter forgave Draco a bit too quick.

"I guess so. Harry is finally talking to me, after all." The Malfoy replied, making Blaise a bit shocked. He hasn't seen Draco this happy since second year. Potter was indeed very loved by Draco--and Blaise knew, that the Malfoy men, whether or not they love their partners, will always stay loyal no matter what.

It was the type of loyalty Blaise admired. And, well--the people of House Zabini worshiped their partners fervently. His mother loved Sera and never set her eyes on anyone else after her passing. His mother always looked at Sera like she had personally hung the stars in the sky.

To be honest, his mothers became the standard of what type of love he wishes to find. Blaise craved to have the relationship they did--the loyalty, trust, and love. His mother used to say that she would never be blinded by love, since open display of emotions showed their weaknesses as an individual--and see where that got her.

"You are a fool." Blaise retorted, his eyes on Weasley, who was near the snack table, eating a carrot cupcake alone. "A fool in love." He added as an afterthought.

Draco hummed, "I sure am. My father will definitely disown me when he finds out about us, though."

"Let me guess--you don't care?"

"Mhm."

Blaise chuckled, actually chuckled. "That doesn't sound like you at all. You used to throw yourself at your father's feet, oh, how you have matured." Blaise teased--Draco huffed fondly, bumping his shoulder with his. Draco's boggart was Lucius Malfoy, but he was no longer afraid of that man. Not anymore.

"Mature? Sure." Draco laughed. "I'll go catch up with Harry, you should talk to your little redhead." Before Blaise could say anything in response, Draco was already off to find his knight in shining armor.

Damn Draco. The way he highlighted 'your' specifically made his skin tingle, and Blaise felt his cheeks heat up, what if anyone heard him say that? He has been dying to speak even a word to Ron, but his pride and doubts kept him from doing so. And plus, what would Weasley think about a pureblood Slytherin suddenly approaching him for conversation? He might be frightened off, and Blaise doesn't want that.

He just felt all the more embarrassed when he spots, once again, another couple go into the gardens. The infamous 'hook-up' spot, Blaise wanted to leave and erase his memory anout his knowledge about what went down in the gardens. Professor Snape was most likely doing patrols and catching whoever was trying to have sex in the gardens.

Blaise moved near the center of the ballroom, he did not have any intentions to dance for the rest of the night. He shut his eyes and thought of what he could do, other than stand pathetically on the si--

Blaise barely felt it, but someone had collided against his back. He barely moved, but the other person seemed to have taken a heavy toll. Blaise turned around, half-expecting some younger student--but no, it was--

"Sorry!" Weasley exasperated, tired and apologetic. And Blaise froze, his mind going into overdrive. Weasley looked even more beautiful close-up, and Blaise could see his face more clearly at this distance. Blaise couldn't help the way his eyes fell to Weasley's thin lips with a bit of pink.

"Wasn't really looking at my way...." He trailed off when he saw who he bumped into. Blaise's chest twisted when he saw the semi-disappointed expression on Weasley's face. Was he that unhappy to see him?

Blaise stared at him, looking him up and down like fish bait--it was not at all intentional. "Weasley." Was all he managed to utter, not saying anything else. Blaise looked at Weasley blankly, unsure of what to do next, before Daphne emerged from his front, placing down her cup of juice with a practiced pureblood smile.

Daphne took over from there, leading Weasley to Potter with a smile. Weasley fell for her calming charm instantly, which made Blaise felt envious. Who was Daphne to him? To be able to smile so brightly at Daphne-- Blaise unknowingly clenched his fists and bit his tongue until he tasted iron.

This was--unfair. Blaise excused himself after Weasley went with Daphne. No matter what, would Weasley always think so terribly of him? Blaise wasn't a likeable person either, which made sense why Weasley disliked him so. Blaise couldn't control it, he was raised like this--

Then, he remembered Pansy's words the night before.

"I changed, for Daphne."

They were engaging in a deep conversation about their lives, until Pansy started to talk about Daphne. Blaise listened, as Pansy went on and on about her girlfriend, how deeply she felt for Daphne, and how they came to be. Blaise thought both of his friends were lovestruck fools, people who would do anything for the sake of love.

As if they were hit by the arrow of Eros. Blaise envied their relationships, he was the only one out of the bunch that still had no one. Blaise remembered Pansy as a stuck-up pureblood with her head in her ass back then, up until third year, which was when her personality had suddenly become different. When Blaise asked about her changed, she answered that--she was willing to become a better person for love--for Daphne.

Blaise felt his head spin--at the moment, he was the very person that Weasley despised the most. Stuck-up pureblood, blood purist, and a Slytherin. It wasn't like Blaise could simply change what house he would get sorted into, his second house was Ravenclaw, which wasn't too bad. Still, was Blaise willing to change for him?

Blaise had no idea why he was willing to do everything for someone who would never reciprocate his feelings--he didn't care if Weasley never decided to love him back, as long as he wouldn't see him with someone else. Blaise adored him--he loved him like Icarus loved the sun, Blaise knew he was bound to fall--yet he continues to fly towards him. After all, as Sera said--to fall, means you once flew.

And, Blaise was willing to fly towards Weasley--even if he was fated to fall.

The air in the great hall was suffocating, Blaise wanted to return to his dorms, but Pansy said he was a wuss if he returned now. Blaise had too much pride to surrender, so he reluctantly did not leave for his dorm room. Rather, he left for the Astronomy Tower.

Pansy never said anywhere else wasn't allowed, after all. Blaise sighed, it was snowing again. He watched as the snow fell like rain from the moonlight, Blaise suddenly shivered after the cold breeze brushed against his spine. Merlin, he hated the winter. Blaise hoped to sleep for a little on the Astronomy Tower.

Slowly, he made his way to the tower and successfully dodged the paths where he knew the couples made out at. The bottom of the Astronomy Tower was silent, not a single bird chirped--for once, the silence was bearable. Blaise began to ascend the steps, his shoes clinking on the cobble as he did.

He thought long and hard about his decision earlier. What type of people dod Weasley prefer? The gentleman? The bookworm? He was unsure. When Blaise finally reached the top, his eyes widened when he spotted orange hair waving in the air. Blaise felt his throat closeup as he continued to stare, his stomach curling.

"I wasn't aware someone else was already here." Blaise spoke, frowning internally when he saw how hard Weasley flinched at just the sound of his voice. No matter the situation, all Blaise could think about was Weasley's beauty, and he so, badly wanted to press his lips against his own.

Weasley suddenly turned nervous, his lips squirming. "Oh--Are you going to..." He trailed off, looking prepared to run off, which slightly upsetted Blaise. Weasley ran his hand through his hair with a nervous expression. 

Blaise bit down on his lips and waved his hand in dismissal. "You were here first, Weasley. Let's just share the space." Weasley's mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, almost making Blaise chuckle.

He was adorable, the subject of his deep affections. Blaise wanted to wrap his arms around Weasley's lean body and hug him all night. Blaise felt despicable wanting to do such things to him, he swore he would never become someone like his mother's fourth husband--he will never stoop down to his level and blatantly disrespect others.

Eventually, Weasley gave in in defeat, his lower lip stopped trembling so much, Blaise internaly rejoiced that Weasley decided to stay on the tower--"Sure." Weasley barely managed to speak, it sounded more like an embarrassing squeak, like a chick-- which was captivating.

Due to how nervous he was, Blaise nodded stoicly, stiff. He was moving towards the balcony and staring down into the garden. Blaise did his very best to keep his expression neutral, and hide his delight--Weasley will most certainly think him odd if he let it slip. Blaise felt those enthralling sapphire eyes observe him. He tried his best not to let his excitement show.

For a while, none of them spoke, it was silent and no words were exchanged the entire time. To be frank, Blaise did not care if they conversed or not, as long as he was able to bask in Weasley's presence, it was enough for him. When he turned to the side, Weasley was fiddling with his fingers, which rested on the balcony's edge.

Blaise felt his nape heat up as the silence stretched on, he had just hoped Weasley was unable to hear how his heart stuttered every second, as he fought off the urge to stare at Weasley and memorize every feature, every detail, and everything about his appearance. Their hands were so close, and his breath hitched--

He actually considered just fucking up everything and grabbing Weasley's hand for his own selfish reasons--Blaise clenched his fists tightly--he needed to control himself. Weasley was not someone he can just control, nor someone he wished to take advantage of--of anyone, in particular. 

Blaise has already allowed himself one selfish moment to indulge in his wants--and that was playing with Weasley's hair as he slept in the library. Blaise felt utterly shameless and embarrassed, he was quite sure someone had seen him do it, frankly, it was a miracle what he had done was not all over the school yet.

He hated himself for doing such a thing without any permission, but he can't say he didn't regret it. Blaise wanted to do it again, to have Weasley's hands pushed against his fingers.

He heard Weasley sigh and inhale a deep breath, he started pushing his head back and letting his long hair flow freely in the wind. Blaise had prompty frozen, it took all of his self-restraint to not let his jaw drop. Blaise knew Weasley began to be wary of his sneaky glances, but he physically could not turn away from the beauty that is called Ron Weasley.

Merlin.

With not a single person talking--Blaise had just decided to think about other things, but his heart pounded so loudly he could hear it. Eventually, around twenty minutes passed. And there was still no conversation or small talk, Weasley began to move in nervousness, before he finally spoke.

"Why are you here?" Weasley blurted out. It was sudden, he tilted his head to the side, his sapphire eyes slightly widening when he realized Blaise was already staring at him without any warning. Blaise stared as Weasley gulped, oddly, he..did bot have an adam's apple--but who cared? "Did you get bored of the party?"

Blaise hummed blandly. Yes it was boring--you weren't there. "A bit. Though I just wanted some fresh air and time alone to recharge my social battery." He said, making Weasley slightly huff in amusement. At that, Blaise raised a brow.

"I reckon you have a long line of people wanting to dance with you." Weasley teased lightly, knowing it was true. Blaise furrowed his brows slightly, why does Weasley keep talking about his supposed line of admirers? All Blaise wanted was him, anyway--he had no desire for anyone else. Though, Weasley isn't exactly wrong, many asked him to dance, yet he declined all of the offers.

"Mhm, I did." Blaise confirmed, "Though i'm not sure I enjoy dancing much." He admitted, smirking to himself when Weasley's eyes widened in shock. Everyone always took him for the dancing type.

Weasley grinned, playful and mischievious "I didn't take you as the type to dislike ballroom dancing." He replied, chuckling.

Blaise smiled, smiled. Merlin, this must be a gift sent from the sky. "Our appearances don't showcase our personalities that well, doesn't it?" Blaise stated his observation, before he leaned against the cobblestone wall with his arms crossed.

Weasley hummed before halting and staring at Blaise, as he leaned against the wall. Blaise felt his cheeks heat up the longer Weasley stared at him.

Blaise couldn't take it anymore--"My eyes are up here." Blaise called out in a teasing tone, making Weasley's cheek heat up, visibly. "What made you leave the great hall? Isn't Granger your date?" He asked, as tilted his head to the side, as he made small talk with the love of his life. He knew Granger posed no threat to him, as she was already involved with Ginny Weasley.

"Hermione and I aren't romantically involved, if that's what you want to know." Weasley replied, a little too quickly. Blaise grinned, he knew that, he just wanted to hear it. "It's just the date rule." He mocked, making air quotes as he chortled. Blaise sighed in actual relief when he heard Ron confirm it--thank Merlin!

The Slytherin chuckled, trying to stop his heart from exploding into a million pieces because of Weasley. "It seems so. I apologize, I was convinced Granger was your girlfriend before I saw her all overyour younger sister."

Weasley made a disgruntled expression, before it turned into one of absolute terror at his implication. "Were they... doing anything?" Weasley asked as he raised a brow, his eyes pleading--Merline, Blaise almost fell to his knees. Good merlin.

Blaise quickly shook his head, watching in contentment as Weasley practically exhaled loudly in relief. "Not at all. They were just glued at the hip. Are they a thing? Granger and your sister." Blaise asked again, another question he knew the answe to.

"..They are, don't spread it around though, please?" Blaise nodded in understanding. Ginny Weasley was quite a formidable girl, despite being a year younger than them, she was already outperforming her older peers at her studies. And plus, she was quite famous for her bat-bogey hex, the same one she used on Draco for making fun of her older brother and friends.

"Weasley, you don't have to worry--really. I may be a Slytherin, but I am not a blabbermouth." Blaise promised, he would never tell anyone, although he was sure everyone knew already. He did not wishbto break Weasley's trust.

Weasley exhaled, embarrassed at his brief panic. "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply I didn't trust you because you were a Slytherin." Hearing the words from Weasley mouth itself comforted him, and his heart raced impossibly faster. Oh merlin--Weasley did not hate him for being a Slytherin! Blaise screamed internally.

He and Weasley were always kilometers apart, they shared barely any similarities with each other, as their personalities were the opposite of the other and most likely wouldn't mix well. Blaise wanted to know if Weasley truly disliked Slytherins, or just disliked him in general.

If it was the first option, Blaise, for some reason, felt his chest warm under the rain of now--how could he feel so warm when everywhere was chilling cold?

"You..." Blaise uttered out quietly, his voice shaking, Blaise's mistake was looking up. They made eye contact, less serious from earlier, but just as intense. Blaise's eyes widened slightly when his own eyes met Weasley's blue ones.  "Nevermind." Blaise said as he turned away in conplete panic, clearing his throat. Why did he have to be so...so him?

To distract himself, Blaise beheld the moon and stars in his eyes. It was a beautiful luminescent sky. The moonbeam was bright and shined like silver, and when Blaise thought about silver, all he could think of was how good silver jewelry would look on Weasley. He was aware of Weasley glaring daggers at him, was he making his decision about Blaise as an individual, or as a Slytherin?

"You can have the tower." Weasley spoke, quiet, timid, like he wasn't sorted into the house of the brave and courageous. "I'm heading back first." He watched Blaise's face for any type of reaction, but Blaise barely acknowledged him, in fear that he would end up saying something he shouldn't.

Blaise gulped, "Okay. Thanks." He replied, not daring to let his eyes linger on Weasley, not even for a second. There were ao many thing Blaise wanted to scream, but he couldn't--not ever, not yet. 

He didn't notice the way Weasley pursed his lips together, trying to stop the sadness blooming in his heart at his sheer coldness. 

Blaise was getting dangerously close to the sun.

After he had finally mustered up the courage to speak to Weasley after fourth year, Blaise felt over the moon--they were finally friends--or, almost friends.

Blaise was plagued by nightmares ever since he thought Weasl--Ron would die underwater, when Ludo Bagman chained him down there with all sorts of sea creatures. Blaise had never felt such rage since Sera's death, the feeling of almost losing another person he loved became his greatest fear--He considered burning down Bagman's belongings, Bagman, the castle, and himself, if Ron had actually died.

Ludo Bagman was careless with his handling of the hostages--Blaise felt sick just calling them that. He had always thought the Triwizard Tournament extremely dangerous, since others have actually died during the challenges, why did they insist on bringing it back? For what? Glory? Old times sake? Either way, it was a poor decision in the first place--literal children have died, and they thought bringing it back would honor them?

Blaise was left with fear after Ron was rescued--of course, he was glad that Ron was alive and almost unscathed, but ifbhe had actually...died down there, Blaise wouldn't know what to do with himself, he already lost Sera, he does not wish to lose another person he cherished. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

He ended up telling his mother everything, right after the second tournament ended, Blaise, in all his anger, wrote everything Ludo Bagman did down--the laws he broke, with the acts, child endangerment, and other petty things. As expected, his mother did not react well and filed a lawsuit against Bagman on the behalf of the victims. No one knew, except Draco, Pansy, and Daphne.

Daphne was Sera's niece, which made them related--Daphne also grew to care about Sera before what happened, she was also very heartbroken about Sera's death. The first time they ever properly interacted was at the funeral, where they both wept and mourned their mother and aunt.

In the summer, he planned to visit Sera's grave for the first time in a while. Mother loved her too much to even consider a public cemetery, and with the approval of the Greengrasses--though she would have done so with or without approval--mother buried Sera behind the manor, in the center of the flowerbeds, surrounded by Sera's favorite flowers, the Queen Anne's Lace. Daphne will be coming along, of course.

Over the summer, Blaise began exchanging letters with Ron almost every everyday. It had slowly began to fill the empty hole in his heart, making it full. Blaise would walk in the rose garden and observe his surroundings, anything that he can write down in his next letter to Ron.

When his mother noticed this change, and all the letters from the same person, she grew worried and suspected that Blaise joined a secret organization. Of course, he denied her accusations, and assured her it was simply a friend. Sure, Blaise wanted to be more than that, but they were developing their relationship, after years of disliking each other. Blaise wished that Sera was still here, although he knew she was always watching over his shoulder.

Blaise used to promise her, that when he was old enough to bring someone home, she would be the first person to know. And she was, she knew first when he caught feelings for Ron. Blaise visited her grave during her anniversary and told her about this cheery, red-headed boy, someone Blaise knew she would have adored. He felt somber thinking about it, he knew Sera would have absolutely loved Ron.

Not so sure about his mother, she made her displeasure about the Weasleys clear from the start, which is why Blaise as reluctant to tell her--that he was developing a friendship with a Weasley. He would tell her, just--not now. 

Chapter Text

Harry spent his first day before school in bliss. For the whole summer break, he never had to go back to number four Privet drive, back to his relatives ever again, with Sirius and his inheritances--He was happy, for the first time in forever, ever since he was six. It was the one time he had felt so, overjoyed for the longest time.

He remembered is like a wound--the last time he felt so victorious was when he once discovered a worn-out astronaut keychain under the staircase, hidden inside one of the boxes. Harry claimed it as his--because it was, it was in his cupboard. It was his most treasured possession, it was only until Dudley ransacked his cupboard and found it, he ended up snapping the head in half.

It was the only thing Harry's ever owned before, not even the clothes he wore on his back were his, it was Dudley's old clothes. They always felt too big on his small frame, moreover, there were rips, sometimes. Harry taught himself how to sew fabric, for this very reason. It took two books, and only having time to learn when his relatives were out. One time, they were on vacation in Paris. Harry had two weeks to learn.

They always left him alone for long periods of time. If it was Dudley, Aunt Petunia would never imagine leaving his side for five minutes. Harry still felt slight tingles on his old scars, at times--it was itchy, and by the time he realized it, all his scratching and nitpicking made it red and sometimes bleed again.

So, Harry became delirious when he saw one of his only possessions broken, he hated Dudley for being a piece of shit, he despised his aunt and uncle for letting it happen and for being unable to let go of their grudge against his parents. After that incident, Harry began to turn territorial over his things, not even one grain of rice was left uneaten.

He was never able to have his own possessions, and naturally, Harry obsessed over what he had, protecting them and hiding his items away in the crook of cabinets, drawers, and even inside his socks. Harry knew he wasn't normal, or born normal, how could he ever think he was, when his aunt, uncle, and cousin would drill it into his brain every second and every moment?

He understood that he was a freak, his parents were 'useless', well, according to Aunt Petunia. If his mother was so useless, then why did Aunt Petunia tear up when she was looking at old picture books of when she and his mother was younger? Harry did not understand her, at all. Even if Aunt Petunia loved his mother as her sister, why would she treat him like this?

Aunt Petunia called his father an unemployed drunk. He quickly found out that wasn't true when he began attending Hogwarts. Everyone spoke highly of his parents--James and Lily Potter, who were known as one of the strongest witch and wizard in their generation. Harry teared up when he saw their yearbook pictures. His mother was the best in charms, head girl and Gryffindor prefect. His father was the highest in Transmigration, head boy, and somewhat of Gryffindor's Goldey boy.

This was kept from him, who his parents really were--and Harry has never hated his relative more than this moment. They were adults, were they not? All because of some petty feud, they hated him. Harry has considered using one of the three unforgivables on them, he wanted to make them suffer, to feel what he felt under their 'care', and just--let all of his anger that bottled up within fourteen years out. 

He was honestly shocked he hadn't gone insane with how long his magic was surpressed.

When he found out about what he would inherit, Harry was glad that his heirships were confidential, under the protection and secrecy of the goblin nation. It was quite a shock to find out everything he would inherit at Gringotts. He was aware that houses existed, and the possibility of a House of Potter existing crossed his mind maybe once, never twice. He was never interested in riches, or anything--

Just, freedom. No one constantly whispering in his ear about how his mother was useless, and his father, an unemployed drunk. No one hexing him and believing he was perfect, for being the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry has despised that nickname every since he came to Hogwarts. Snape called him a celebrity, in what way was he one? The abused, orphan one?

And...to find out he was connected to not one, not two, not three, but four houses, titles, heirships, and properties was one of the highlights of his summer, definitely. He only found out about his inheritances from his best mate, Ron. His ability was most definitely powerful, and if any money-thirsty, soul-sucking person found out, they would of course envy Ron, and hurt him in the process. The thought made him shiver violently--

Harry didn't want Ron getting hurt, even though he knew it was impossible to stay completely untouched. Ron was his, Harry's first ever friend, Ron was like his platonic soulmate, and so was Hermione. One way or another, all three of them were bound to each other with their bonds and ties. Harry hated the concept of letting them go, he hoped they would never drift apart when they age--they were his friends, his! And there would be no Dudley, Aunt Petunia, or Uncle Vernon to destroy this for him anymore.

Harry knew he was selfish, but so what? Everyone in this pathetic world was. Who was ever truly good? Such a thing did not exist. Perfection was only something that existed in fiction, everyone has a bad side to them.

Ron's ability of Retrocognition would prove itself useful to anyone--and he means, anyone. Voldemort would most certainly benefit from it, with evil intentions, of course. So will Dumbledore--Harry still had no idea what to think of him. He thought Dumbledore was everything that represented good, but when Ron had told him he had his doubts, so did he. Harry trusted Ron, and the way he said it, Ron was afraid of making him lose faith in Dumbledore.

He wished Ron told him everything, Ron may have told he and Hermione about his magical inheritance, indirectly about his crush on Zabini, and what he saw, but they knew there was something that Ron was hiding. Something...deep, important. The worst memory he's ever experienced was Ron ignoring him when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Ron apologized though, and admitted his judgment was clouded by his personal issues. Harry didn't care, as long as Ron was talking to him. He sounded insane, but Harry meant it when he said he was possessive.

Years of abuse and neglect developed terrible and unhealthy habits, after all. Draco helped him heal from his terrible childhood, and Harry...has never felt so loved during summer break. For first to third year, he returned to number four Privet Drive for summer break, and it would just be the same cycle of abuse all over again. Harry stayed in 12 Grimmauld place for the end of the year, and he will be, until he graduates from Hogwarts.

Harry still thought about his relatives over the summer, how were they handling without him doing all the housework? Which brought Harry to the letter placed right in front of him. It was sent by the ministry, well, more so, Percy Weasley. It was opened and sat on the table like it was a weapon--Dudley was half-dead. He almost had his soul sucked out by dementors, and was currently in the hospital after he was deemed unresponsive for hours.

One summer without him there, and Dudley almost had his soul sucked out by a dementor. In the letter, Percy said one of Dumbledore's undercover allies saw what was happening and alerted the ministry via Dumbledore. So, Dudley did not completely have his soul sucked out. Harry hated that there was a part of him, a voice, deep down there, disappointed. Harry was terrible for wishing a fate crueler than death on someone, oh well, he couldn't help it--probably.

Everyone seemed to think he was so perfect, so...good, all because he was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. It would be a lie to say that Harry wasn't interested in the dark arts a bit, but that interest quickly dispelled when he remembered how his mother died. He wouldn't mess with the dark arts. He was conflicted with where his interest and morals lingered, really.

This was something he hadn't told anyone,  but he had a neutral core, a grey one. In between light and dark--which meant the magic he was naturally drawn to was in the middle. Harry found out at Gringotts, where he requested a magic examination after Griphook, his family's own goblin, mentioned it. It was a magical process that was activated with a drop of his own blood. That's when he found out his core was balanced between light and dark.

Harry hadn't even known such things were possible, the dark, light, and neutrally alligned magical cores. Griphook said his father had a light-alligned core, whilst his mother was also neutral. Harry was a bit shocked when he heard that, turns out, the Potters were experts at blood magic, which was categorized under dark magic. However, since his father had a light-alligned core and wasn't interested in his family's blood magic, his father gave his mother access to all the books in his manor, which is where she learned blood magic.

It was the magic she used on Harry before she was killed by Voldemort--blood magic, a powerful type--one that protected Harry, as long as he stayed under the roof of his mother's blood, which was Aunt Petunia. Sure, Harry understood they wanted to protect him from Voldemort, but, why couldn't they check on his wellbeing at the house, at least once? Not a single peep from the Professors, or Dumbledore, who placed him there.

It was infuriating. What reason did they have, for not checking on him whilst he was being abused and neglected? Perhaps it was the reason Harry found his trust in Hogwarts waiver. He hated anyone who contributed to his lack of good and normal childhood.

At least he had Draco with him. His boyfriend, his love. Draco always stayed around him, always hovering and making sure Harry always had what he needed. It felt nice, once--to experienced being hovered and worried about, instead of being the one doing the hovering. Sirius promised him, that as long as he stayed in 12 Grimmaulf Place, Harry would never work or struggle anymore, as they had Kreacher to do everything else.

Harry was still a bit squeamish about the idea of house elves, probably because of Dobby. House elves were practically slaves, they would always have to follow the words for their masters, cook, clean, maintain the house. It reminded Harry of himself, always doing everything around the house for his relatives, who merely sat back and watched the telly while eating. 

Dumbledore was all-powerful. Even if his relatives refused to let them check on him, his authority and strength alone could have intimidated them into stepping aside. At that point, Harry wished he'd just died, instead of having to stay in his Aunt's house for his entire childhood. He never, ever wanted to return to number four Privet Drive. He could not give a rat's ass if Dudley was dying, he was annoyed they even told him about it.

With what Ron warned him of, about Dumbledore--Harry isn't sure who he can trust anymore.

"I'm not like you, and I never will be!"

Sirius yelled, even as his cheek turned red from the hand of his mother, it stinged in pain. His curly black hair fell over his shoulders dramatically, as Regulus quietly, but very frightenedly stood behind their father.

Walburga Black... She was beautiful, as expected of someone from the House of Black. It was really too bad, that her mouth was foul and her habits were horrid. She stood in front of Sirius with trembling anger, her infuriated hazel eyes landing on him with disdain.

"I never should have allowed you to get close to those filthy Mudbloods!" Walburga replied, "Look at what they have done to you, Sirius--you've began sympathizing with them, with those Mudbloods! Just what has that Potter been whispering into your ear!" She added, as Sirius stared at her in disbelief.

"James has not corrupted me, he saved me!" Sirius said in incredulity, his tone quickly turning defensive at the mention of James, "He's only shown me what it really is being a good person, someone who doesnt use that word all the time, and--"

Regulus just stared at his mother and older brother as they continued to argue, his father kept silent, whilst his eyes had a flash of sorrow. Another example of Walburga Black's infamous temper tantrums, Ron thought. He stood up againdt the doorframe, watching as the mother and son duo hurled insults upon insults against each other. They were loud, and possessed a very diverse vocabulary, some insults were so creative Ron mentally jotted those down.

As he continued to watch younger Sirius, the more reason he had to believe that he probably had a thing for Harry's dad. The way Sirius spoke of James Potter like a God, someone who radiated kindness and everything sweet. Ron knew better, though--that they were egotistical bullies who seemed fixated on Snape. As his visions continued, the more he wanted to beat the absolute shit out of the so-called 'Marauders.'

Because, Merlin--they were horrid. They were like a slightly crueler version of his older twin brothers. Sure, Fred and George had their questionable moments, but they wouldn't go as far as to make someone's every day life a living hell. And he meant that literally--they seemed to hold a ridiculously high hatred for Snape. He obviously hasn't told anyone about these, especially Snape--he reckon the old dungeon bat would just hex him.

Orion Black was quite infamous for letting his wife do as she pleased--basically, he had no spine, and turned a blind eye to her meltdowns, even if he was a decent father to his sons. What good was a father that allowed their own offspring to be degraded by their mother?

"Then leave!" Walburga screeched, "Take your bags, and fucking leave!" To her surprise, Sirius did not dither, like he was used to hearing those words all his life. Regulus stilled and suddenly turned pale, his eyes burning into his older brother's figure.

This must be when Regulus was re-named as the legal heir to the House of Black. Sirius only inherited the title of Lord Black when he was finally free from Azkaban, which was years after Regulus had withered. There was something in Regulus' gaze, something like a slight shimmer of hope, and fear combined. He was hoping for something from Sirius, possibly to take him along, as Ron recalled from the balcony conversation he had with younger Snape back then.

"Fine." Sirius said, "You can shove your overgrown foot up your ass, and leave me alone!" With that, he stormed off upstairs, into his room, with the loud sounds of heavy trunks landing on the floor loudly.

The woman gasped in disbelief, "Sirius Orion Black, get down here, now!" But Sirius did not reply, he only slammed his door, hard--Walburga scrunched her eyes, probably not thinking that her son was serious in his decision. It was only until Sirius came back downstairs lifting two trunks loaded with his stuff, heading for the door, that she finally realized he was serious.

"Sirius." Regulus whispered, his voice so faint that only he could hear himself--he followed his mother as she marched towards Sirius, screaming once more. To Regulus' dismay, there was someone outside of their door, waiting for Sirius.

Familiar ebony black hair, the same chestnut skin shielded by the dark shadows of the night, and bright hazel eyes. It was James Potter--Sirius' bestfriend, and Harry's father. "No." Regulus shook his head, his voice a little louder. Orion held his shoulder firmly and stopped him before he did something idiotic.

Sirius had tears welling in his eyes, before James took one stare at his best friend's disheveled state and took one of his heavy trunks in his hand, before he wrapped his free arm around Sirius' shoulders and apparated them both away in the quick blink of an eye.

"Sirius Black!" Walburga screeched, the door wide open, the harshness of the blizzard hitting Ron's face. "Kreacher! Find my son, now!" At the call of the elf's name, he appeared, then bowed, before disappearing to heed his mistress' orders.

But even Regulus knew it was too late, without knowing the future.

Fifth year was off to...a complicating start. It was only the second day of school, and Ron has already caught so many others out of bed past curfew, or someone who was currently busy being a nosy, terrible bitch. The Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom was packed with students, all horribly aggravated with their new teacher for this year.

Ron really wished the one year curse took effect now.

"These are ministry approved books, Ms Granger, as I have said." Umbridge repeated in a sickly sweet tone. "Are you questioning the decisions of the Minister of Magic?" She added, deepening her tone about the Minister of Magic--who was still facing public scrutiny.

Hermione looked furious, her eye twitched as it always did when she was about to burst out in anger. "Yes, I am questioning the Ministry, what about it?" Ripples of soft gasps and snickers echoed across the room. "You aren't even allowing us to actually cast spells in order to defend ourselves." She pointed out, glaring at Umbridge, who began to look red.

"Sit down, Ms Granger." Umbridge warned through gritted teeth. "You are a bookworm, aren't you--"

"That doesn't mean I enjoy reading about spells rather than practicing it in the very subject that requires it." Hermione swooped in, crossing her arms and standing her ground. Umbridge's lips twitched with the faintest bit of annoyance. Ooh, was she finally going to erupt in anger? And destroy her facade?

Umbridge cleared her throat. "Detention, Ms Granger. My office, at eleven sharp." She said in the most two-faced tone ever.

In the crowd of students, Harry balled his fist and brought it near his lips, which had a slight, knowing smirk. "Coward." He coughed, before glaring at Umbridge, who tilted her head to the side as her sweetly forced smile dropped ever so slightly. Umbridge blinked exactly four times before her lips stopped twitching.

"I will pretend I didn't hear that, Mr Potter. Now, to chapter f--"

However Harry wasn't having any of it, of her being burnabke plastic. "I would rather be heard, thank you." Harry added. "What will you say next? Defend Fudge and stand with him? That Voldemort isn't back, that Cedric didn't almost die, deny what I experienced?" He hissed, almost sounding like a snake, which was ironic, considering the fact he was a parselmouth. Umbridge, who was holding a perfectly long piece of chalk in her hands, gripped it so hard it broke in half while her entire figure trembled with anger.

"That's it!" She yelled, hardening her fists and turning red in anger. "Detention, Mr Potter, with Ms Granger!" Her voice echoed and boomed across the room, which Ron definitely thought vibrated against the entire castle's walls. Ron just sat back into his chair and felt a bit of nervousness, from beside him, Draco shut his eyes and sighed, likely because of Harry.

Umbridge was annoying, even a hopeless idiot would know that much. Everything about her was infuriating for no reason. Her obnoxiously large eyes that would stare into your soul, the way she walked with her heels digging into the ground, and the way she sweet-talked the seventh years like they were first years.

Harry stared at her, a million wild thoughts about how to ruin her life running through his mind, he leaned back against his chair and smirked, before he huffed. Merlin, Harry was always such a troll. Ron tried his very hardest to keep his laughter in, not wanting to ignite Umbridge's ire

Not a single person has liked Umbridge ever since she was introduced at the great hall. She was sent by the Ministry, as a spy, very obviously. She was arrogant and had a sickly sweet personality. Ron could tell she was bad news from one glance alone. She wore an annoyingly large amount of pink, and was very loyal to Fudge. Merlin, he knew Dumbledore couldn't really say anything against her presence, as she was sent by Fudge himself. Ron meant it when he said not a single person liked Umbridge.

Ron felt uneasy about the detentions his best friends received. If Snape's idea of detention was cleaning cauldrons, he had a feeling Umbridge had a much worse idea. She was a ministry rat, after all. Those from the ministry, at paticularly high positions were often vile, drunk on power and thinking they were invincible. He had thought Percy was like that, before he realized he wasn't. He wonders if Percy knew about Umbridge. He ought to send his brother a letter soon.

"Whatever." He heard Hermione mumble, clutching her quill and staring at her own copy of the ministry-approved books like it had murdered her entire family. It was a very unusual sight, to see Hermione not be so enthusiastic about learning--well, seeing as who their new teacher was, it was perfectly reasonable. Ron was sure even Merlin himself would shake his head in disappointment if he were to see her.

Although, Hermione's point was extremely valid. Defense Against The Dark Arts has always been a practical subject rather than just simply being taught off of a textbook alone. How were they supposed to defend themselves against the death eaters if they weren't even allowed to learn how to? He couldn't shake off that knowing feeling, that Umbridge was sent by Fudge to manipulate their beliefs about Voldemort's return. Fudge was suspiciously insistent that Voldemort was dead, and Harry was a liar.

If Cedric hadn't survived the maze--Ron was sure, that Fudge would have won over the public and dispel their worries and suspicions about Voldemort's return. Ron silently hoped that little side operation Percy had would work quicker, and have Fudge be replaced as Minister of Magic.

Defense Against The Dark Arts passed by in the most boring way one could imagine. They were stuck, with their eyes glued on the stupid ministry-approved learning material, it was full of nonsense! The ministry must be born with mental issues if they even thought this book full of shit would help them in the real world, after they graduate from Hogwarts.

It was filled with flimsy spells, unfinished descriptions, and bullshit, did he mention bullshit? Ron looked over to the seat in front of him, where Hermione sat, burning in rage as she aggresively flipped from page to page. Great, she hated the book too. Ron snuck glances from across the classrooms, everyone else shared the same reactions. Since they had Defense with the Slytherins, he was able to spot Blaise staring at the book with his fingers running through his hair.

Merlin, he looked smoking hot. Ron suddenly felt his cheeks heat up, okay, Ron--not now! He can thirst over Blaise later. Blaise--Merlin, even after weeks, he still can't believe he actually reached the stage of calling his Slytherin by his first name, instead of having to utter his family name every time they cross paths with venom in his tone.

Even in class, Ron couldn't stop thinking ahout how it would feel when Blaise finally kisses him. If that was even possible, though, sure. Merlin, he was such a pervert. He wasn't proud of it, at all--but he genuinely could not help the random suggestive thoughts that ran through his mind. He was only fifteen, for merlin's sake! They had less than three years before they graduated Hogwarts and go out to the real world.

Well, if they defeat Voldemort before that. If that bitch still lived even after they graduated, they might as well just live the rest of their lives in chaos, which Ron did not really want. He'd much rather have a chance to grow up and achieve his dreams before dying to Voldemort.

So, how can he help plan Voldemort's downfall?

Ron stared in absolute terror when he laid eyes on his best friend's states after their detention with Umbridge. He already had a terrible gut feeling about what her definition of 'detention' was, he most certainly hadn't expected it to torture.

"Sit." Ron demanded, they both did. Harry was speechless, after all, Ron found him almost passed out on the way back to Gryffindor tower, with heavy drops of blood rolling down his wrists, and staining the sleeves of his white blouse. Hermione was in disarray, her hair messy, uniform soaked in red--she wasn't even supposed to be in the boys dorm rooms at the moment--or at all, but when did they not disregard the rules?

Their other roomates were already dead asleep, and since they were all quite heavy sleepers, they wouldn't wake up even with a bit of noise. He was, by no means a medical expert, Ron was only utilizing the knowledge his mother passed on to him when he was younger. How to dress wounds, how to wrap bandages, the simple things. Hermione was tottering violently, she bared her wrists which were dripping a bright scarlet, with painful cuts, carved in blood--

I must not talk back.

Ron felt his anger fuel inside of him, he bit down on his tongue to stop the words from escaping his lips. How dare she--How dare Umbridge torture students because of her big fat pink ego? After dropping a few droplets of a minor healing potion on her scars, she hissed painfully--Harry squeezed her shoulder in support. Ron continued wrapping Hermione's wrists with the bandages, which were quickly soiled with her blood.

Vermilion stained white, he wrapped it tighter as Ron forced himself to ignore her small sounds of pain as he did. This would definitely continue on if more students got detention with Umbridge. Fuck. He needed to tell someone--but that wouldn't change anything. Even if Fudge was losing support, he was still the Minister of Magic. They couldn't easily send Umbridge away, back to the Ministry, seeing as she was sent to Hogwarts with their clear support.

"It hurts--It burns." Hermione whimpered, her tears finally falling when she spoke. At the sight of his best friend tearing up from the pain, Harry couldn't help but feel what she felt, which led to him doing the same. "It feels like my whole arm is on fire." She whispered, voice breaking, breath shaking.

Ron trembled with even more anger building up in his chest, "I am going to fucking kill her." He vowed with an unsteady voice, "If I can't kill her, then I am going to destroy her." He bit out, kissing both of Hermione's wet cheeks and pulling her into a hug. "You're going to be okay, I swear." He murmured, patting her untamed hair and pulling away from the hug.

Harry was still sitting on his bed, silent tears escaping his emerald eyes. Ron did the same process with Harry, except he did not react the same as Hermione did when he used the potion. Ron couldn't help but feel his heart squeeze. "It will get better soon, I swear." He whispered, "She's going to pay." Ron promised, rubbing circles on his knees. Harry nodded through his blurry eyes, his fingers shaking.

"She will." He agreed through a flurry of tears. "She used a blood quill--it's an illegal thing to use on anyone with no permission. It's a binding spell." Harry explained, as Hermione hummed along, wiping away on her drenched face. "I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain."

Ron smiled a bit, sighing. "You are fucking amazing, Harry James Potter." He said, turning to look at Hermione. "You both are--yes, you--Hermione Jean Granger." At that, Hermione let out a small chuckle, which instantly filled Ron's heart with a bit of warmth, while Harry huffed.

A binding spell.

Ron stared on the words on Harry's arms.

I must not tell lies.

A chuckle left Ron's lips. Did Umbridge really think Harry would admit to apparently 'lying' about his trauma? It was a terrible and inappropriate way to invalidate someone and their experience with near-death, if Umbridge wanted no lies--

Then her little pink arse should stop lying as well. If she wanted only the truth, then Ron would show her what no lies really meant

A few dark spells from his book would suffice--Umbridge is going to wish she never became their Defense teacher--if you could even call her as such.

She would pay the price of daring to harm his best friends, and anyone in both the past and future. The only comfort he had just a few hours ago was the curse on the position, but a year is too long--it seemed like Ron needed to take matters in his own hands, after all.

He lost many things back then--but if there was one thing he always won with, it was with his tendency to lie terrifyingly well. There was a reason why his parents often leaned towards him, and believed him over his siblings more, during petty fights and such. Just a simple flutter of his eyelashes were enough to make them swoon.

He used to be their little girl, after all. It was perhaps the reason why he always won back then, against his brothers. Ron hated calling himself the little girl his parents used to have--but how can he forget, when he knew they didn't really accept him? The way his father stared at him a bit somberly when he would wear pants at time, and his mother's insistence with the jewelry.

Well, he wasn't exactly proud of it--lying. Although, it didn't mean he wouldn't use it to his advantage. One thing Snape told him: no matter what, use your abilities to your advantage. Ron couldn't believe he was actually quoting that old dungeon bat, but Snape actually had a way with words.

George did his usual routine--and that was, waking up, checking on he and Fred's joke products, terrorize the school with them, and stare at Soleia Lightfeather, who was currently doing her head girl rounds, the same Soleia who had just heavily scolded them for their products.

Soleia Lightfeather was as beautiful as she was frightening. She was the embodiment of fairness and elegance, with her seemingly delicate but strong hands, and rodiculously pale skin. George thought she was a bit of egotistical, but who wouldn't be, as someone who was so ethereal?

A Slytherin, the current head girl. She had short, silky black hair, and George always felt breathless when she would glare at him with such contempt in her dazzling obsidian eyes. She was simply too otherwordly, she looked as if she belonged in the sky, someone who had a place with the stars.

"Stop staring." Fred whispered, tugging his shoulder, making George wince playfully. Fred was the first to know of his interest about her, he didn't tell him, Fred simply called it his 'twin intuition.' Lightfeather was still scolding them, hands on her hips as she sighed.

"George and Fred, this is the fifth time in two days--two days! Either you stop pulling your pranks until you graduate, or i'm confiscating them." She stated, which made Fred gasp in horror.

But that wasn't why George was so surprised, she had always threatened to take away their gadgets--she never did--it was just that she said George and Fred, instead of Fred and George. Holy merlin's beard, George hated how his stomach did flips just thinking about it.

Fred was the more favorable twin, much was obvious. Fred was more talkative, louder, and often the one who orchestrates most of their pranks, whilst George just followed along. Everyone always said the first twin that came to mind, which was Fred--and then George, as a follow up. George was used to being second to his brother, he couldn't believe such a small detail was enough to make his knees weak.

"--Understand?" Lightfeather asked in a stern tone, her stygian black eyes darting between them too, starting with George--him! "George, Fred." She said again, not knowing the effect she had on him.

Merlin--she did it again. Her pale skin shined brighter as the sun angled towards her, highlighting her coal-colored hair. George had his suspicions that she was simply another being--how can one be so pale and strong, while looking so elegant?

Fred grinned, glancing towards his twin brother knowingly. "Understood."

Chapter Text

"Do you think of yourself as someone blameless?"

Severus snarled, stabbing his pale, boney finger directly on Lupin's chest. The other man in question looked terrified, nervous--his bright irises were shaking and trembling as Severus continued to glare at him.

He was an idiot--Severus was an idiot for thinking someone like Remus Lupin would choose him over his own friends. One word to describe Lupin was just simply coward, an individual who never spoke up in constant fear of losing their damn friends, even if it meant said friends were demon spawns reincarnated into human bodies. Why else would the likes of James Potter keep targetting Severus like he was some 'fun' plaything?

Lupin knew that James and the others were wrong for what they did to him, and Severus knew they constantly jabbed at him due to him being a dark wizard and a death eater--but, what's it to them? There were dozens of other death eaters in the four houses, why would they choose Severus specifically? Because of Potter and his cronies, Severus' life was in constant hell and humiliation--he would never forget the levicorpus incident, or what happened at the shrieking shack, where Lupin almost ended Severus' life because Sirius Black was simply bored.

And even now, as Severus berated his lo...Lupin, the werewolf just stood there, just taking it. Moron, did Lupin think Severus would calm down after getting all his anger out? Did he think they would go back to before? Being fuck-buddies, boyfriends, sneaking around--hell, they never had a label for what they were. They weren't public, no one except Charity and Regulus knew. And they both disapproved of his relationship with Lupin, obviously.

How could Severus be so idiotic? Falling for the type of man he swore he would never love, ever. He must be sorted into a whole different category of stupid, his name would be a synonym for the word fool. His biggest mistake was thinking Lupin could be different, wouldn't be as terrible as his friends who were the very spawns of evil. Severus gasped for air, his chest heaving as he grit his teeth in anger and frustration with how the other acted.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

Was Lupin willing to let everything they had go? Was Severus that replaceable? Was he so unimportant that Lupin wasn't willing to fight for him?

Oh--Remus Lupin. A unique but plain-looking boy--his shaggy brown hair jumped with every step he took, and those eyes of his--golden and hungry, always directed at Severus, like he was starving for more. He was the first man Severus had fallen for.

The first was Lily, before she had gotten with Potter and laughed in his face after the levicorpus incident, Lily called him Snivellus. The nickname she knew that haunted him like glue--She laughed. She fucking laughed--Lily took delight in his misfortune, stifled her laughter when Severus was hung upside down as his pants were slowly and torturously taken off by James Potter as he cackled like the absolute monster he was. And even then, Lupin was just watching, forcing out a giggle after another plain, forced chuckle.

No matter now Lupin felt about it--Severus didn't care if he felt remorse, felt like it was wrong--he never did anything to put a stop to what was happening to Severus. The wolf was a prefect, for merlin's sake. A prefect! Someone who had the backing and authority to command others, they were guven the badge for a reason--and Lupin didn't dare wield the power his status as a prefect and authority as one.

Severus was reduced to a puddle of fury and anger, and shame--how could he have let himself be humiliated in the most horrific way possible? Merlin, he hated everything. He hated everyone and just wanted to get past his seventh year without anymore drama with Potter and his cronies. But still, shame bubbled in Severus' chest, his heart pounding against his ribcage loud enough to crack his bones and make his heart go flying.

"No, I don't."

Lupin finally answers, and Severus barely registers it before his thin lips twisted into something of annoyance. Is that all? 

"I fucking hate you." Severus shoots back, and as embarrassing as it was to admit it, he was holding back tears, a fountain that threatened to flood this entire place. Why was he wasting his tears on someone who wasn't worth it? Someone who would continuously break his trust and snap his heart into tiny little pieces.

The wolf stares, before his lips fall into a somber smile. "I know. That's why i'm not saying anything. I know you hate me, Severus."

Severus couldn't control his anger anymore, and it just kept spilling out in puddles, like a tap only half-closed. "That is the most stupid thing i've heard from you, you absolute dolt!"

Severus yelled, and before the Slytherin knew it, he stepped forward and his hands were tightly gripped on Lupin's collar, the cheap material crumpled easily under Severus' weak hold, as Lupin's eyes widened and set on him. Fuck. Severus knew he looked pathetic, looking like he was begging the very person who watched as he had his life ruined to stay--and deep down, Severus knew he wanted the wolf to stay with him. It was dumb. It was selfish.

"You disgust me, I detest you." Severus forced out with a shaky voice, his breaths ragged and exhausted. Lupin continued to stare--with his obnoxiously soft eyes, shaking his head, and a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "I can't...believe that it's taken me this long to say this--but you are a coward, through and through. I was blind enough to not see it."

Severus didn't care if they were in an empty classroom, he didn't give a single damn if a professor walked in on them. "I know i'm a coward!" Lupin suddenly screamed, his own hands clasping Severus' own on his own robes. "I hate confrontation, I stand by the sidelines--because i'm scared!"

"And you expect me to understand?! You allow yourself to be manipulated by your so-called friends, to the point you almost murder someone and risk time in Azkaban!"

Severus shot back harshly, his lower lip trembling as his own teeth grazed over it roughly. "I'm the victim here, your friends are the ones targetting me! You tell me you love me, yet you can't even look me in the eyes when we aren't alone!" He was screaming in his face, which didn't look...well in another perspective.

All the secret kisses they shared felt like nothing now, even if Severus would wiggle in his bed, butterflies swarming his stomach after they'd share one. All those times they slipped away to Hogsmeade for butterbeers and a quick snog in the loo. Severus used to think Lupin was his everything, looking past every bad thing he did to Severus like a fool. Severus was as much as a fool like his mother, Eileen. They were only attracted to foul men, guess it really does run in their blood.

"I..." Lupin was speechless--which really did prove Severus' words correct--this wolf really expected Severus to understand why he was just simply idling by as his friends committed literal crimes? Hell, the whole shrieking shack incident--Severus could get Black into Azkaban with just one pensieve to the ministry. Of course, Black would never believe that someone of his position would get sent to Azkaban.

To Black, he could never be sent to Azkaban--since, in his eyes, only death eaters were the ones who belonged in Azkaban. Not someone as righteous and upstanding as him. Black's supposed righteousness was a false belief, anyways. He was as rotten as the rest of his bloodline, his mother used to tell him--once a Prince, always a Prince--even though she had been disowned upon marrying Tobias. It was the same for the Blacks--the saying, Once a Black, always a Black.

"I can't even fathom why I was ever attracted to someone like you." Severus whispered, tasting the warm iron-like liquid flow in his mouth with how hard he kept biting down. "You...are nothing to me."

To Severus' absolute shock, Lupin's eyes--they began to water, sad, desperate tears flowing down his cheeks like he was trying to gain sympathy from Severus. He tried his hardest not to look, not to stare--as his...lover? Can Severus even call him that? They were never anything--they just... did as they did, sneak around, snog in the broom closet, shag in the loo, or in empty classrooms. They were together, but not really. Severus didn't want to be someone that Lupin just sneaks around with--it... hurts.

Was he someone not even worth being bragged about to friends? Was Severus only good enough to be kept secret? It was messing with his mind, and he couldn't afford to let the Dark Lord take even a simple glimpse into his mind and see everything. It would be an easy death sentence.

"Please...don't leave me." Lupin whispered, barely above a breath, so low that Severus almost didn't hear. "I can't lose you."

Severus wanted to give in, his heart was spinning and his knees were shaking from how weak Lupin sounded. Fuck--even until now, the weak spot he always held for tears never faded. It began when Severus would walk into his mother's room, she would often be in tears, staring at the disownment letter her father sent her. Severus would sit right next to her, silent, as she weeped.

This wasn't fair--damn it. Severus pushed Lupin against a wall, his thumbs moving quicker than his mind could think, and before Severus knew it, he was wiping away his werewolf's tears away with the rough surface of his thumb--and Lupin--he whined, he fucking whined--and leaned into Severus' touch like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

It was pathetic, desperate, and some sort of humiliation ritual. Were werewolves always this docile to humans? Severus' mind suddenly flashes back to their encounters, when Lupin would pin him down and growl in his ear, which Severus always took as the werewolf inside of him. But merlin, it was hot.

Severus felt his knees slightly buckle, threatening to give out in mere seconds. But Lupin knew him, he knew when Severus wanted to fall--and so, Lupin's free hand suddenly grasped his back, which sent tingles and sharp shivers down Severus' spine, like it always did back then. Severus was still angry, he wanted to strangle Lupin and end whatever they had, but a part of him still clung to the hope that Lupin would choose Severus over them--his friends.

He was making a terrible, he knew that--but despite everything, Severus stopped yelling--his heart softened at the sight of the man he loved crying for him, begging him not to leave. For some weird, twisted reason, Severus liked seeing Lupin like this. Holding him tightly, in tears, pleading for him not to leave him. It fed his already growing ego, that Lupin was as pathetic as he was in the love department. They both had serious issues, much was obvious.

Still...Severus continued to shush the werewolf, cradling his head in his hands like they weren't just arguing and spitting vile comments at each other, mostly on Severus' part, but that didn't matter.

"You're my everything, the only being keeping me sane right now--I won't be able to live with myself if you leave." It was a trap, a trip--but Severus unconsciously fell into that lie, his sickly pale fingers brushing Lupin's hair back slowly, under his fingers, he felt all the bumps on his scalp, the scars, the badly-healed cuts from the all of the full moons he endured.

Severus hummed, not even bothering to reply, knowing it made the other even more anguished. He knew what he was doing, they both did--yet they were still both a pair of fools who purposefully fall for each other's tricks every time.

"The wolf listens to you." Lupin whispers against his ear, making Severus jolt. "It likes you." Was almost killing him counted as 'like'? Still, the fact that the...wolf listens to Severus was interesting enough. The werewolf is said to be uncontrollable during a full moon, so why does Lupin comtinously imply that the wolf will behave when with Severus? To anyone else, it sounded ridiculous, but to Severus, it was different--it felt...weirdly odd, and a bit relieved for some reason.

Probably at the very thought that the werewolf in him wouldn't try and kill Severus once more. The first try was traumatizing, and even until now, Severus continued to have nightmares about that night at the shrieking shack, often waking up in buckets of sweat pooling all over his body.

"Is that so?" Severus uttered, low and deep. He felt Lupin's hold on him tighten impossibly further, Severus cursed the werewolf strength--it felt as if half the air in his lungs was just knocked out with a single squeeze. "Release me, wolf."

Lupin paused, nose nuzzling Severus neck in a desperate plea not to make him release Severus who was in his arms. Even if he wasn't tranformed, Lupin sure acted like a wolf--an oddly docile one. Werewolves aren't meant to tamed, after all. Werewolves aren't this behaved, but they were sure territorial. At this point, Lupin was about to eat him, hands moving up to Severus' nape, making him quiver slightly.

In truth, Severus didn't wannt Lupin to let go of him, but he wanted to test something--something insane. "I said, release me." After a few seconds, Lupin did release him, despite the hesitance--Severus scoffed. A compliant wolf--that is certainly something you don't see everyday.

After that, seeing the pouting look on Lupin's face, Severus couldn't resist it anymore--he tugged Lupin close by his robes and kissed him, he barely noticed the way Lupin's golden eyes glowed brightly, something in him shifting--Severus was startled, at first--but quickly forgot about it when Lupin began to snog him senseless. Severus allowed himself to be kissed, to be fooled, to be toyed with, despite knowing how furious he would end up being again when the situation calls for it.

It was selfish and stupid--staying with Lupin, believing they would be better, that they would improve. Severus knew not to dwell on how their relationship would look like in the future, nothing lasted forever. This wouldn't last until they were old and grey, the feelings they shared would die out and they would be conplete strangers by the time they were thirty.

But for now, all Severus had was this false belief, that for now, Lupin would choose Severus over them, even if it was just for a bit. It was something he craved--to be chosen, to be someone's first choice--but none of that seemed to happen for him.

Umbridge was getting worse, day by day. More and more young witches and wizards earned detentions with her, it was always the same cycle for the past few weeks--come in confident, come out wrecked. Blood always spilled heavily from their wrists, where the words carved into their flesh stayed.

The twins began to carry around bandages and first aid kits with them everywhere, literaly first years were fainting in the middle of hallways from the exhaustion and blood loss. Ron grit his teeth, Halle Yew, who was a first year Ravenclaw was sat on the corner of the Astronomy Tower, crying--screaming, their arm was a mess--a mess of curses, or blood magic, and whatsnot. Hermione was shushing her, Ron holding Yew's knee in an attempt at comfort while Hermione bandaged her up.

Harry was with the twins, using a combinatipn of their magic, they emptied out an empty classroom of whatever was left inside, cast a silencing spell along with barriers of privacy charm. It was where they took the ones who were too weak to function and wrap them up. The twins weren't victims of Umbridge--even though Umbridge assigned them detentions with her, they never went, and when Umbridge confronted them about it, they blew a firework inside her office.

Umbridge's office after the fire incident was plain ash and burnt wood, which gave the students a good laugh. The ministry repaired her office, and threatened suspension on the twins, but they weren't afraid, they didn't back down on their words, their threats. Instead, they found it laughable--stating, that the ministry would just be doing them a favor. Since then, Umbridge hasn't assigned them detention. The only reason the twins haven't blown up the entire castle yet is because of Ron--of his promise to destroy that woman.

And Ron meant it, when he said he would absolutely destroy Umbridge's life. He's already started planning what he could do, how he'd get away it. Personally, he hasn't been sent to detention with Umbridge, yet--mostly because he needed to have a good impression on her to reduce suspicion, and because his friends keep begging him not to get a rise out of her.

Harry and Hermione, they knew how it felt like, to get their flesh teared, blood leaving their body, and crying from the pain Umbridge's punishments gave. Ron has always known that his best friends were protective of him, and regardless of what he wants, Ron decides to stay put--for now. Actually, it seemed to Ron, for the past few weeks, that Umbridge has taken a vomit-inducing liking to him--she thinks Ron can be tamed, like the others who follow her blindly, following her every order.

It was gross--manipulating and taking advantage of teenagers. Umbridge wants Ron for her...squad. It wasn't anything established, but Ron has seen what she plans to make--replace Dumbledore as headmaster and form her own team of dogs within the students. She was delirious, merlin.. does she really think she can overpower someone like Dumbledore? If Dumbledore wasn't careful of the ministry, he'd have her killed a long time ago for the havoc she has caused in Hogwarts alone.

"Everything will be okay, Yew." Ron whispered, at the right time, his cold fingers softly patting Yew's shoulder as she struggled to hold her tears in, as Hermione was wrapping her arm, this time, the carvings read--'I must be obedient'-- like an eleven year old child was some sort of feral dog.

Ron balled his hands into fists, his eyes trailing Yew's scars, which were going to follow her until she was old and grainy, until death. Blood magic was serious, its effects were permanent, a literal first year would have carry burden of the scars' story and journey until graduation, deal with the heavy, pointed glances at her obvious scars, and become someone to pity.

"I wa...I want to leave Hogwarts, my father spoke of Hogwarts like it was the gates.." She winced loudly, "..The gates of heaven, h-had I known I would have m-my arm butchered like this...I'd probably never attend." After she finished speaking, tears were rolling down her cheeks, her teeth grit to loudly that it almost shattered from the pressure.

Hermione sighed, finishing the last of the bandage rounds arounds Yew's arm, her eyes were downcast and disappointed, she looked very focused, as to not accidentally press too hard on Yew's wounds. "Hogwarts is supposed to be the best magical school in this country, it really does live up to its reputation, its just people like Umbridge that sully Hogwarts' good name." She defended, and she was correct.

Hogwarts was a prestigious school, and the fact that a muggleborn like Hermione was not only accepted, but unofficially at the top of her generation regarding academics was something that the magical world doesn't see often, it always boiled the blood of those stuck-up pure-bloods who cannot fathom muggleborn witches or wizards creating a good name for themselves in the wizarding world. Really, a superiority complex seemed to be born into every traditional pure-blood's brain.

Which is why Ron couldn't exactly blame Draco or Blaise before, it's what they were taught to believe in, to follow in, to live. Everyone lived differently, Ron did--his family was pure-blood but not traditional.

"Best...in the country my ass." Yew scoffed, taking deep, heavy breaths as sbe sat herself up straighter, her hair had stuck to her forehead with all the sweat, and she was struggling--so badly. Ron just wanted to take her pain away and give it to back to Umbridge ten-times worse.

That woman was harming literal children, children! And no one was--no fucking ministry official or professor was doing anything about child abuse and Umbridge's obvious abuse of authority around Hogwarts? Rats like her were truly the ones who dirty their school's reputation--but even then, there were other shit that stained Hogwarts' image already--like the whole debacle in fourth year.

Ron has never been this angry until now--not when his mother continously denied his identity, not when he spent his entire life having insults hurled at due to his family's way of living, and especially not when he realized he fell in love with a raging bigot--he's never liked it when he saw younger children get hurt, it always messed with his mind and his morals.

"We'll...get back at her." Ron suddenly says, Hermione lifted her chin and stared at him, eyebrow lifted and head tilted slightly to the right. "One way, or another."

To his absolute surprise, Yew actually giggled at that, her frown had quite literally turned upside down. It almost made Ron want to laugh along, pretend like they weren't being power-tripped by a ministry official turned professor, like they weren't being forced to cut their own flesh as punishment--well, such things only existed in fairytales, didn't it?

"I'll hold you to that." Yew murmured, before drifting off to sleep, her eyelashes trembling while fluttering close.

For a minute, he and Hermione didn't say anything, they just--stared at their junior's small, feeble body as her arm was tightly wrapped around in crimson-stained bandages. Hermione just squeezed her hand, the blood stains from Yew's arm had rubbed off on her own palms, from all bandaging--it had already been weeks of this relentless torture that had been unfairly inflicted on them, and fuck, they were still around two years away from graduating.

The blood quills were binding, which is why it was illegal, and only used in severely important contracts, since it was quite literally being etched into someone's flesh. Now, Yew was stuck--she was binded into being obedient for the rest of her life, just as Hermione mustn't talk back, and Harry was unable to tell lies. Ron wanted to barge into Umbridge's office and destroy the whole damn room, maybe land a couple hits on the woman herself, and once she's on the floor, Ron might just place his foot on her neck and press down--

"Stop." Hermione raises her voice, eyes bulging as she turns to look at him. "You're thinking about doing something to her, and I'm telling you--stop."

Ron's mouth goes dry, he bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to keep his composure. "I don't understand what you mean, 'Mione." He forces out. "I wouldn't...I would never do shit like that."

"Don't go back on that." She mumbled, biting down on her lower lip as she sighed, before carefully placing her arm under Yew's knees and head. "Let's get her back to her dorms."

"Sure. Need any help with her?" Hermione shook her head, "Fine, you take her back, I'll check on Harry and the twins."

Hermione hummed. "Go on." Ron held her shoulders still as she fixed her hold on Yew, who was now asleep, peacefully--like she hadn't just been thrashing around earlier, drenched in sweat and bleeding out. Ron took one last look at the sleeping figure of the young Ravenclaw before Hermione casted an invisibility spell on herself.

After the two had left, Ron just stood there, on the Astronomy Tower. It was already evening, the sky had a nice shimmering orange tinge to it, Ron stared at the evening sky in a haze--Hermione has called him out, just when his thoughts began to run wild--why would he even think of something so inhumane?

Sure, Umbridge was a stuck-up, shit-eating, child abusing wannabe, but--He was above murder--he was above all of that...but that thought had just randomly swam inside his mind like it belonged there--like it was always there, lingering like an afterthought, clogging his senses and infiltrating his mind like a virus. Besides. How could he ever pull off something like that? That wasn't him, Ron wasn't a bad person--he wasn't. He was above that.

Ron leaned forward on the balcony and rested his elbow on the rough railings. He was shivering, despite it being rather hot today. He picked on his prefect badge, he had expected his fifth year to move on swiftly without a hitch, with the exception of his studies on the dark arts and secret sessions with Snape about the Occlumency.

He wanted to believe that he was better than those terrible people out there, the ines his mother used to tell him stories about--those Slytherin gangs during her time at Hogwarts, the ones who smoke and shit-talk others. Ron wanted to believe it--he really did--but sometimes the stress of living was too much. With trembling fingers, he carefully reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"I'm better than them, I'm better than them..." He whispered continously, he could feel his hands shaking as he pulled a cigarette out, pocketing the rest--and then, after a few seconds of contemplation, he ignited the lighter and lit his cigarette.

The first minute was weird--Ron had never smoked before, the smoke was entering his lungs and spreading, it felt so uncomfortable yet to relaxing. It's been countless weeks since Ron has felt so...so relieved, the tense feeling he had in his shoulder began to feel...not so tense, the guilt was eating him alive--the first time he's seen someone smoke was his brother Charlie, after graduation, behind the burrow--Charlie never caught him staring.

The cigarette was in-between his fingers, Ron lifted it off his lips and huffed. The smoke flew in the air, and Ron knew he smelled like fresh nicotine. Snape would kill him if he knew, Professor McGonagall would kill him if she knew, and his friends would strangle him in a shower and burn his remains if they knew. 

Ron sighed, pushing his hair back as he placed the cigarette back on his lips. He let his multi-colored hair fall back on his shoulders clumsily. Damn it, would he be one of those people who'd have blackened lungs from smoking in ten years time? His mom's voice was loud in his mind, yelling at him for even daring to lay his eyes on a pack of cigarettes, then lecture him about the dangers again and again like he was a child caught smoking--which he was actually doing at the moment.

He tried to tell himself that this would be a one time thing, that it wouldn't happen again--but the way it calmed his shoulders and made him forget about everything else momentarily, Ron hadn't felt so relieved ever since--no, for a very long time.

His mom wasn't here to tell him off, not his dad, not his older brothers, not his little sister, not his friends--no one. Ron just wanted one normal night, just one where he could dump all of his emotions out on something and have no one there to berate him or tell him off for his poor decisions. Well yes, he was a teenager, he's bound to make terrible decisions at one point, and now was that time.

Ron was a prefect, a poor excuse for one. Everyone else was...moving forward, so why couldn't he? Instead he was stuck in the Astronomy Tower smoking his way into lung cancer.

Merlin, he was a mess--a shitty, unattractive mess--his mom hated him, his dad was hardly doing anything, his two older brothers had actual lives, they didn't have time to think about him, about some messy teenager when they had their own lives to worry about. His mom... Ron fucking missed her, too much--despite everything, every time she denied his identity and called him by that name. Still, she taught him how to braid hair, how to cook, how to bargain in the markets.

Ron wanted to cry, let it all out, crumble where no one could see him. It was fifth year, he was supposed to be better, not be just another Weasley, make a name for himself, practice dark magic in the solitary of his room--which wasn't really in soltitude, seeing as he had roommates--

"Ron?"

He froze, oh fuck he's been caught smoking--shit, shit, shit--abort--Ron quickly shoved the lighter in his robe pocket and bent the cigarette--but he was too late to cast a clearing charm on the air of smoke. Ron turned around--very, very slowly--and met the eyes of the likes of Blaise Zabini. He looked at Ron incredulously, then at the smoke wavering in the air, then he finally smelled it.

"I...didn't take you for a smoker." Blaise said, forcing it out like he couldn't believe it at all. His hair was a tad bit messy, and his robes were slightly crumpled, in all its fine glory. "It reeks of nicotine, you know?"

Ron gulped, visibly--"I don't smoke." He attempted to lie, but all he received was a slightly mocking chuckle from Blaise. Ah, merlin, he was so dead.

"The evidence is overwhelming, my dear." Ron hated the way his tongue rolled at that stupid pet-name, and more importantly, he hated the way he felt his cheeks heat up from it. "Don't worry, I'm not snitching." Blaise quickly added, after a small chuckle. Ron's lips squirmed, unsure--sure, Blaise was his friend... but would he really not tell on him?

"...Thanks?" Ron replied, unsure--uncertain. He couldn't stop himself from staring at Blaise though, he was one of the wizards who has yet to be sent to Umbridge's personal hell. And honestly? Ron was so fucking glad that Blaise apart of that small group of wizards.

Blaise smirked, a faint huff escaping his mouth. He walked over, the thuds of his footsteps suddenly too loud for his ears. He stopped right beside Ron, leaning his body towards the balcony's edge. "You got another?"

Ron paused, unsure of what he just heard. "Pardon?" Ron was quick to follow with, his eyes widening at the sudden question.

"'Nother cigarette." Ron blinked--mutliple times, before he slowly pulled out the pack he had in his pocket and pulling out one for himself--pausing, before he held out the pack for Blaise to take one of his own.

Blaise grinned, placing it in between his fingers as he spun it around. "Neat." He whispered. "See? Now we've both held a cigarette."

"Well, not smoked." Ron grumbled, reaching for his lighter. "I'll still get into a load of trouble if I ever get caught."

He could only imagine the shit-show that would go down if any of his family or friends found out--his mother doesn't even know that Charlie smokes, but he was already eighteen when Ron first saw him, and right now, he was only fifteen. His mother would definitely beat the magic out of him if she ever finds out.

The other boy bumbled, his expression neutral. "You and me both."

For a second, Ron was taken aback by his words and the implications. "...Do you smoke?"

"Nope." Blaise responded, with a swift flick of his handcuffs. "First time I've even held a cigar." He added as an afterthought.

Sure, and he was the king of England.

Blaise's face scrunched up, seeing the doubt linger on his expression. "No, I'm serious." He defended, "I'm not...usually interested in stuff like this." He continued to fiddle around with the cigar in his fingers, staring at it like it was full of wonders. 

He didn't utter a single word, even when Ron found himself slowly closing in the distance between them, Ron moved slowly, uncertain, before their bodies softly collided, that Ron finally realized what he had done. His face heated up as he heard the soft breathy chortle escape Blaise's annoyingly alluring lips.

Not a single word was said between them, the sun was beginning to set with this serene apricot color. The eventide had arrived too quick for his comfort, it was only a few minutes later that Ron finally remembered the lighter tightly gripped in his palm. Without a second thought, he flicked the lighter to life and lit the head of his cigarette. Before he could offer it to Blaise, the other edged it away--

"You aren't going to...?" Ron carefully probed, his heart beat spiking up with every second of silence that followed. He never was used to quiet.

Blaise didn't reply to his query, and instead, as the taller of them both, leaned forward with the cigar already in between his lips. "I have no need for that." He murmured, lighting his own cigarette with Ron's already lit one.

He was caught off guard--Ron stood still, eyes flickering between shut and open as he attempted to process the scene unfolding in front of him at the moment. "Oh." He remarked uselessly, standing there like a deer in headlights. Merlin, why does Blaise always know how to make his heart stutter in the rightest moments?

"See? No need for the lighter."

Blaise retorted, a grin plastered on his lips like seeing Ron all embarrassed was a personal achievement. He took a puff of his cigar and exhaled in what sounded like relief, and after that, they both just sat in silence,  like the night they spent during Yule, in the same tower, same position--everything.

The moments they shared were almost ephemeral and evanescent. Like this was just another fleeting memory between the both of them, with everything that was going on, simple relief and happiness while continuing their studies just wasn't an option anymore. The Slytherin house was still split from Death eaters and those who don't want to get marked, Harry and Draco were taking certain measures to make sure that the ones who don't wish ti be marked have somewhere to go.

After all, Draco was In the same situation--not wanting to get marked, but the pressure from their parents made It difficult to outright deny it. And there was the blaming and victimization, most of the Hufflepuffs painting themselves as the good ones, considering the base reputation of their house--and the Ravenclaws, who had the second-most death eaters. Voldemort's re-appearance was making everything far more difficult than it should have been.

Ron tapped his fingers on the cobble edge, rythmically, slow then fast, his tapping was getting impatient hastily. It was a random habit he picked up a few weeks ago, a way to fidget when he felt stressed. More so, he couldn't stop the shameful blush spreading across his cheeks and into the tip of his ears. Ha--his crush had just shared a light with him, they were quiet and bathed in the other's presence, smoking cigars for the very first time.

The air was quickly filled with the heavy smell of tobacco. Ron couldn't explain it, but it was just that this moment was quite intimate. Ron took another drag of his cigar away from his lip, exhaling the smoke. He turned to look at Blaise, who was, as expected, already had his eyes set on Ron, like he was watching him closely.

"It's a bewitching view, isn't it? Ron murmured, eyes trailing to gaze at the alluring crepuscule. He leaned forward and rested his cheek on his palm, when Blaise didn't answer as quickly as he hoped he would, Ron craned his neck towards the taller male.

Blaise inhales, "Yeah, It really is." He replied, a shudder escaping his throat. The funny thing was, the entire time Blaise spoke, his eyes weren't on the sunset, but rather Ron, himself.

Everyone else was out in the common room discussing strategy and how they would fight back against Umbridge. Of course, not everyone--it only consisted of a small circle of Gryffindors for now, the ones from the other houses would join, but with Umbridge's new ridiculous rules, it was near impossible.

Ron pretended to be asleep. He could bear everyone downstairs with their loud voices, furious with Umbridge, and their worries at being caught revolting. After maybe fifteen minutes and not a single one of his roommates had yet to return to their dorm rooms, Ron took this as his opportunity to do whatever he can.

He threw off his blankets and pointed his wand at the door, muttering a quick spell to lock the doors. He leaned down beneath his table and pulled out his trunk, before accio'ing the book of dark arts into his hands. The others would freak and probably accuse him of being a death eater if they saw him with a book like this--some people--also known as the past him--really needed to know the difference between death eaters and dark wizards, truly.

"Lumos." Ron whispered, a ball of light forming at the tip of his wand. He flicked from page to page with utmost caution, the book looked like it was going to fall off at a normal tug, the spine looked like it was being held together by its hopes and dreams, the pages were thick and yellow with age.

He had already walked through horcruxes and some spells of dark magic--and now, he was hoping to find something to annoy Umbridge for now. The others were planning on everything else, but recently, Ron has discovered that he mug prefgered to work in the dark, behind the scenes, and tugging the strings.

The book was thick--it seemed endless as Ron kept flipping and turning from one page to another, he was frankly, still a beginner at dark magic, so he wanted to find something he could actually do--but then again, his magic is a bit stronger than he thought, with a wand that embodied his magic and his core--there was a possibility.. that Ron could do much more than he thinks he can.

After a few minutes, he had parchment and a quill floating in the air, jotting down certain spells before Ron called it a night and put the back into his trunk, not without protection charms, of course--one thing the old bat taught him during their lessons together, now matter where you keep your items, there is always a risk that someone might snoop and see certain things they shouldn't even be laying their eyes on. Ron knew Harry was also attending lessons with Snape, but they were never allowed to attend together.

With nothing else to do, and the debates and chatter downstairs not quietening down, Ron could guess that they were not near finished with their discussion. So far, Ron has been...admittedly far too busy with his own life to get on with practicing the patronus charm--he had wanted to cast one ever since he found out Harry was able to cast it at thirteen--but it was more ao his jealousy speaking back then. Still, a patronus was an advantage with the dementors, if they ever came back in the future.

He had almost forgotten that the patronus charm required a happy memory to be conjured, and it was... light magic, at that. Ron had a dark-leaning core, and it wss said that dark wizards and witches had trouble casting a patronus, since the patronus charm was top-tier light magic. Well merlin, he was screwed, wasn't he? There was no one, not a dark wizard who could cast a patronus perfectly with no struggle.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to try.

Ron thought of a happy memory, he went through his own mind in search for one, at the same time checking on his mind shields. There was the time his entire family gathered at the table for hours during Bill's graduation dinner, but then again, Ron wasn't exactly as joyful as he seemed back then--he envied the way his mother showered all her compliments on Bill on that night and practically ignored them all to praise his achievements. Still, he was a little happy.

"Expecto Patronum." Ron said, and nothing happened. Not a single flicker of light from his wand, nothing. It made Ron's eyes twitch from annoyance, not everyone gets it right on the first time--frankly, if anyone got the charm done on their first try they would just be some undiscovered genius.

He racked his brains for more, sitting at the edge of his bed.

And then it hit him--the memory came down gently like a warm feather-light kiss on his forehead. When he was younger, and Percy was in his first hear at Hogwarts, he took Ron on top of the burrow with a dusty, old telescope in his hands. It used to be their Uncle Fabian's. At that time, Percy wanted to show Ron what he learned in Astronomy, and luckily for them, the sky was scattered with bright stars that looked like white paint splattered on a canvas delicately using a brush.

Ron suddenly recalled how happy he was. With his older brother sharing the telescope with him, pointing at the various constellations and naming them--all the while Ron praised him for being so knowledgable about the stars. That night was one of his core memories, something he reminded himself of when he felt upset. He had his happy memory, he just hoped it would work.

"Expecto Patronum!" He silently yelled, and to his surprise a bright white light began to form at the tip of his wand like an enlargened lumos. Something jumped out of his wand--

A crow.

It was beautiful in many way he couldn't describe, and for a while, Ron just sat there, absolutely dumbfounded. The crow floated in front of him, its transluscent eyes sharp but kind, its wings spread wide with confidence. "Merlin." Ron whispered, reaching his hand forward, only to realize he could touch his patronus-- he created a corporeal patronus.

Ron grinned so widely his cheeks began to hurt. His patronus was amazing, it sure as hell matched him, it definitely wouldn't be his patronus if he hadn't changed--but he loved the one he had-- it was him.

The crow was sparkling with bright light, and Ron took the time to sketch it before he let it disperse. He actually created--managed to cast the charm despite having a dark-leaning core, and with minimal struggle--how was that possible?

Chapter Text

The sketch of one elegant, beautiful, and enigmatic Slytherin laid on Ron’s sketchbook, he debated whether or not he’d just rip it off and leave his sketchbook plain, white, and ugly. The face of Blaise is what gave it life–without him, it would just be plain-nothingness.

What use was an artist and a pencil if they don’t draw and long for someone they know they can't have?

Ron laid in his bed, chest heaving as if in pain, his entire body burned and ached–how could he suddenly have a fever in the span of just a few hours? Ron groaned, tossing and turning under his stack of blackets–it was barely four in the morning. He remembered being so giddy about his patronus, and now he was sick. It’s as if this was a small price to pay for that gorgeous thing.

His roommates snored loudly, especially Seamus. Ron wanted to get out of bed and smack his roommate’s mouth shut and sew it. Yes, he loved Seamus, as a friend–but his ridiculously loud snoring was causing him nothing but pain and misery. Ron attempted to sleep off his fever, thinking it would just last until maybe two hours–or so he hoped, they had a pop quiz in potions–he couldn’t miss that.

The little planning party the Gryffindors had a few hours ago concluded after maybe two or so hours. And by the yells and arguments he heard, it didn’t seem to go so well. Ron was almost glad he didn’t choose to go. Harry had also seemed rather furious when he returned, mumbling something about a goody-two shoes who wanted to ruin their plan.

After a few minutes of his mind throbbing and his breath coming out way too hot–Ron decided he couldn’t take it anymore. Even opening his eyes felt like hell. Was Madam Pomfrey awake at a time like this? Ron groaned, throwing off his blankets and sat up–staring at his own sketchbook under his pillow, where a messy, rough sketch of his Slytherin’s face stayed–lips curved teasingly, eyes so attractive it was enchanting, but of course, Ron couldn’t just capture every detail of Blaise’s being and essence into just drawing.

Merlin, if it weren’t for his head killing him, he'd probably start sketching more. Ron grabbed the sketchbook and shoved securely inside his trunk. He was sick, but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave something like that out in the open, where anyone could just waltz in and see. Ron took his wand and accio’ed his shoes to him, he slipped them on lazily, and quietly shut the door as he left, not wanting to wake anyone up as he did. He felt even more terrible that he was about to disturb Madam Pomfrey at a time like this, that poor lady probably didn’t even have much time to herself because of her job, and now, Ron was making it harder.

He stretched his hands over his head, his muscles felt so tense–he really needed that relief. Ron walked the hallways with a thundering mind, his thoughts scattered, messy, and everywhere, in general. The weak lights reflecting on the windows reminded him of how early it was. Filch better not be up and monitoring at this time.

When he finally turned the corner to the infirmary, Ron felt his nerves relax–he trusted Madam Pomfrey with everything. She knew everything about him–what he kept, and his secrets. But that was just her job, wasn’t it? Since she was a healer, Ron was getting ahead of himself again. Still, he took in a sharp breath before lifting his fist and knocking on the door as silently as he could.

After a few seconds of nothing–the door was pushed open and behind it appeared an exhausted Madam Pomfrey. “Mr Weasley?” She mumbled. “You do understand that it is the crack of dawn, don’t you?” She reminded, looking haggard and very clearly had just been woken up from her slumber. She must be exhausted as well, with all the students flooding the infirmary after detention with Umbridge.

Guilt quickly rose in Ron’s chest. He knew it–he should have just waited until classes started to even come here– “I can’t…sleep, I think I’m up with a fever.” He admitted. “My brain is scattered–I can’t focus on anything, my body’s way too hot for normal–”

“Merlin, Mr Weasley… you do look like a boy who had just experienced a sleepless night. Come on in.” Madam Pomfrey replied, cutting him off. “Sit.” Ron sighed, glad. He pushed the creaking door open and sat on one of the beds. He sat there silently, fighting the urge to just close his eyes. The only noise in the infirmary for a while was just his heavy breathing, it came out rough and tired.

Ron gave in and plopped down the bed, the soft but slightly rough mattress hitting his back. He squirmed as he felt his mind ache, Ron’s fingers slowly trailed up his head as he tugged on his hair–hard–trying to fight the pain with…pain. He used to do it all the time as a child, and Charlie always scolded him for it. Still, Ron couldn’t help but hold back tears as he felt his mind numb.

When Madam Pomfrey returned, she took his temperature and clicked her tongue distastefully. He was, indeed, burning up–Ron felt like his body was as hot as a volcano, it was so tiring–his body wanted to shut down and sleep forever, without a single care in the world. He needed to deal with Umbridge, stop her from harming the students, and find that room from his first vision of Tom Riddle hiding Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. 

And it didn’t help that he suddenly felt lightheaded, and liquid dripped from his eyes, and Ron knew exactly what that meant. He cursed under his breath, if Madam Pomfrey saw him right now… he might be sent to St Mungo’s.

And so, while the mediwitch was distracted in the back with the medicine she was going to give him–Ron jumped to his feet, almost tripping, and ran–as fast as his trembling, sickly body could. He made it to the end of the hallway before his legs finally gave out and everything went black.

He just wanted to sleep–was this as close to sleep he would get for the week?

Ron opened his eyes, a sharp pain in his head hitting him like a truck. He had gotten used to it, his physical body entering with him. Merlin. This time, he found himself surrounded by a garden of flowers–Queen Anne’s Laces. It was a unique flower, his mother often had them scattered around the house in little clay pots. The white of the flowers were beautiful, and even in here, Ron could smell how fresh they were.

Even in his half-dazed state, Ron was able to admire the flowers.

“Seraphina.” A woman spoke, and Ron, on instinct, turned to the voice. To his shock, it was a woman–a woman that looked exactly like Blaise. The same copper skin, sharp eyes, and curls. Huh. She must be Blaise’s mother, seeing how alike they look, and the pattern of Ron’s visions of seeing the parents of his friends.

Someone hummed–from behind Ron–and he hadn’t even noticed it, making him flinch violently and stare at the person behind him. Seraphina was stunning, almost angelic. Her hyacinth eyes gave a mysterious but gentle glow. “Yes, Evelyn?” The woman, who he assumed was Seraphina, replied. There was a soft curl on her lips, and her eyes were full of love and admiration for the other.

Evelyn sighed, approaching and crouching down beside the other woman. She stared at Seraphina solemnly. “The book… Lord Greengrass has sent word that it vanished.” She said, slowly, and Seraphina, who was just smiling–frowned. Her amaranthine eyes scrunching in disdain. “They are demanding that you…return it, or else they will personally send someone to take it back.” She said, the last few words left her mouth like poison.

Even Ron himself, knew that crossing Evelyn Zabini was a huge mistake for anyone who dares to. That woman is undeniably powerful, the sole matriarch of a pureblood family. Blaise definitely got a lot from her, she was beautiful, in a way that a rose has thorns.

Seraphina huffed–”Fools, the lot of them!” She exclaimed, “I have not set a foot outside of this manor for weeks–and even so, how would I get past their security and enter their estate?” She exclaimed, furious. 

“That’s what I think.” Evelyn replied, murmuring as she pressed a soft kiss on the side of Seraphina’s forehead. “The House of Zabini is not weak. We do not lack power, in fact, we overflow with it. They are foolish if they think they can simply waltz into my home and demand a mere book back.”

She sighed, low and a little annoyed. “It’s an ancient book about the dark arts. It first belonged to my mother, then she gave it to me before she passed.” Sera explained, twisting her lips. “It’s just that…”

“That..?” Evelyn trailed off, she raised her brow in concern for her partner as Seraphina continued to pluck the petals from the flower. They fell down the ground petal by petal. “What is it, Sera? Is it dangerous?” She asked– her expression was dreaded with worry.

“The book is sentient.”

Ron made an audible noise of realization as he leaned on the pillar in front of the two women. A book–an exceptionally powerful book about the dark arts…it sounded like–no, that was impossible. He shook his head and shut his thoughts up in his exhausted state when Evelyn opened her lips once more to speak.

“A sentient…book…” She questioned, low and almosy speechless- full of disbelief. “How can a mere book have consciousness, my dear?”

“It’s attracted to exceptionally powerful dark cores. It looks for a witch or wizard with cores as dark as the shadows and places itself in a place where that witch or wizard can find it.” She explained. “My mother found it tangled in her flowerbed when she was young, she was a dark witch–powerful. Then, she handed it to me, and I studied the book. My wand is made up of materials attracted to dark magic. But, now that I don’t own it anymore, it must have gone off searching for someone else.” Seraphina added, shaking her head.

Evelyn frowned. “That is…troubling. What do you wish for me to tell the Greengrasses?”

“The truth.” Seraphina replied. “What else can I do, other than speak what's true?” She mumbled, holding up a perfect Queen Anne's Lace, before she stood up, grabbed the whole thing with her palm and ripped it off the stem, letting it fall down eerily.

Ron jolts awake in a sweat, his fingers shaking as he grips the blanket sitting over his body–wait, what blanket? Didn’t he pass out in the corridors? And he doubts the hallway floor would be so soft. Ron looked around–a room, decorated with green and silver–why the fuck was he in the Slytherin dorms.

This has got to be some reality he was trapped in as a form of torture for being a bitch. His palm flew to his forehead as he groaned–the headache seemed much worse than before. He was startled when the door creaked open–only to reveal a very solemn Blaise Zabini. Once the Slytherin saw that he was awake, his fingers suddenly trembled and almost dropped the tray of soup he was holding.

“Ron!” He exclaimed, rushing to the side of a confused but flustered Ron. “Are you alright? Any pain?” Blaise asked, checking his wrist for a black eye sitting right there that not even Rin was aware was there.

The boy in question stared like an idiot, blinking multiple times as he felt his throat turn dry. “I’m alright, I think. My head is killing me, though.” Ron managed to get out, swallowing his saliva as he tried not to shiver from Blaise’s cold fingertips.

“Draco found you out cold near the potions classroom.” Blaise explained, “He brought you in the dungeons and immediately handed you over to me. We realized you came from Madam Pomfrey since she was running around like a headless chicken looking for you.” Blaise huffed, looking up to meet Ron’s eyes. “And..not to mention the fact that you were crying blood, want to explain that?”

Ron froze up, he looked at Blaise and tried to choose his words carefully. “It’s nothing.” Well, he certainly did not choose his words carefully. “I suddenly felt like returning to the dorms and left the clinic.” How in merlin was Ron supposed to tell the love of his life that he had a vision about his mother and her lesbian lover?

“It’s worrying, Ron. I don't think it's normal to tear up blood. If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t.” Blaise said, leaving no room for argument. Ron always loved that about him. “We had to send Pansy to explain that you were alright and fell asleep in the dungeons..somehow.” He trailed off, twisting his lips curiously.

“...Thanks…” Ron mumbled, not knowing what else to say. “I…” He began to speak, raising his chin only to meet Blaise’s eyes–those orbs that he admired like a worshipper, his throat felt dry as his breathing got heavier–he felt like an inferno on the inside. “Should I return to Gryffindor tower…? I feel like I'm taking up space in the dungeons.”

At that, Blaise shook his head. “You’re too weak to walk all the way back. You’ve got a temperature of thirty-nine degrees, apparently instead of tears it’s just blood–oh, and you had fucking ink leaking out of your nose.” He began to list, looking Ron straight in the eyes as he did–Ron wouldn’t admit it, but that was hot–like, really hot. “Still, the point is–the dungeons are too far from Gryffindor Tower for a feverish person. And, It isn’t just me stopping you–so will Draco, and he is scary. That man is training to be a healer at St Mungo’s.”

“Wow.” Ron replied, both impressed and generally just…well, intimidated? “So…I am essentially stuck here until I get a little better, and then Draco will allow me to leave, then?” Blaise nodded, smiling as if pleased with himself–adorable.

“And me.”

“And you.”

Blaise hummed, gentle and low. “Good. Have you eaten yet?” He asked in a murmur, setting down the tray of steaming soup down on the tableside before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You can have this if you haven’t.” He said, the soup was freshly made, the steam emitted and Ron smiled, warmly–it reminded him of when his mother used to bring him congee when he was sick.

He was about to reply, but the realization of his quizzes today dawned on him. “Wait–what time is it? And no, I haven’t eaten yet.” Ron grumbled, reaching for the soup, only for Blaise to catch his wrist in midair. Ron blinked–then turned his head to the side, tilting it in confusion.

“Your hands are still shaking, you might drop the bowl, Ron.” He shook his head, pushing the bowl slightly away from Ron’s reach. “Just..sit still, I’ll feed you. And, the teachers know you’re sick, you’re excused until you’re better, and they said just take the quizzes once you’re better.” 

Ron almost choked on air. “What?! No, I can feed myself, I swear!” He yelled–but relieved at hearing the news about his missing requirements, he threw his hands up–ignoring the way his mind throbbed with every second. Merlin, being spoonfed at his age was just embarrassing–he’d rather drop a bowl of steaming hot soup on his lap than be babied like this. “C’mon, give me the bowl!” He begged, and he knew he looked a bit stupid.

“Patients get princess treatment.” Blaise said with a smile. “Draco’s words, not mine. Would you really dismiss the words of an aspiring healer?” He added immediately after with a knowing smirk, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He gazed at Ron like he was actually interesting, which hasn’t happened in a long time–it made Ron’s heart stir and made him feel stuff he didn’t know he could feel. 

“Hey… now, when you put it like that…” Merlin, it wasn’t fair–Blaise was such a smooth talker, he always knew how to twist his words–which seems to be a talent that most pureblood families hold.

Blaise crossed his arms and huffed. “Good. Now, hold still. Sorry if my bed is a little messy, I didn't have time to fix it earlier.” That part was mumbled–yet Ron still heard it. He paused and stared at the bed covers draped over his own figure. Yeah–he was in the dungeons, it was obvious he was currently laying in someone else’s bed–wait a damn minute.

“This…I’m lying in your bed, right now?” He asked slowly, his expression slowly shifting into one of complete horror and bewilderment. “Blaise–”

Without looking up, Blaise hummed. “Yeah, it's my bed. You can switch to Draco’s if you feel uncomfortable with that…” There was something in his expression–unease, maybe? It wasn’t that Ron was uncomfortable with the fact that he slept in the bed of his crush, he was just hot and bothered. Merlin, save him from this embarrassment.

“I don’t mind.” Ron quickly told him, shaking his head in a bit of a panic. He didn’t want Blaise to think he was some sort of weirdo that gets bothered about who owns what bed. “Just a bit shocked, that you gave up your own sleeping space for me of all people.” He chuckled, just as Blaise blew on the porridge and brought it to his lips–it was delicious.

Blaise’s brows furrowed. “You, of all people? The real question is, why would I let anyone sleep in my bed other than you?” Ron slowly turned to him, what the fuck– “You’re my friend, Ron. I would never let any random people in my own space if I dislike them.” He added, as an afterthought.

“Oh.” Ron said, like a dummy. “I just… didn’t think you thought of me so pleasantly.” He shrugged it off with a brief giggle, too ashamed to press on the matter any further. And even if Blaise looked startled with his words, he still kept spoon-feeding him perfectly, like he had done it a dozen times before. “And if It’s important…You’re my friend as well, Blaise. And I’ll do anything for my friends.”

That seemed to bring a light smirk on Blaise’s lips, making him chuckle. “Like flirting with them to make the bloke they fancy finally act towards their feelings?” It was meant to be something lighthearted, but Ron couldn’t help but notice the way his voice cracked a bit, and the slight somber look on his eyes–the eyes that always seemed so unbothered with the world and its antics.

“Yeah, I guess. I only agreed to it because Harry seemed so distressed about…Draco.” Ron swallowed his anxiety, feeling his stomach churn and his…instincts flare. Like he wanted to assure Blaise he had no feelings for Harry. “Harry is my best friend, I just wanted to help him get the man.”

Blaise fell silent for a few seconds, and Ron almost thought he was somewhat furious, the silence was thick and unsettling, before Blaise shrugged. “Great to know.” He whispered. “Draco was royally pissed when he would hear you two flirt. He considered hexing you in the hallways, but his mother threatened to whack him over the head if he did.”

Lady Malf–Lady Black said that? “Merlin, Narcissa is amazing.”

“That, she is.” Blaise agreed with a nod, before blowing another steaming spoon full of soup. “Now, eat up.”

His headaches barely got better, but it became bearable. But Ron was quite sure he was about to experience an aneurysm when he was suddenly called to Gringotts for something confidential, apparently. It was a letter sent by his mother, and signed by his father. Dumbledore was alerted by the goblins himself, and approved of Ron being excused for today to head to Gringotts.

Ron had no idea why he was needed in a place like Gringotts–perhaps his mother was finally cutting him off from the inheritance? Or the family? Ron shook his head to dispel these thoughts. His mother may dislike his choices, but she isn’t to turn her back on family, no matter what. Even when Percy chose the ministry over the family, she still kept his christmas sock, and cleaned his room.

Speaking of Percy, he was heading to Gringotts with Ron. He needed a family member–or an adult to accompany him on the way, according to Snape. The death eaters were lurking everywhere and causing more havoc than usual, Percy took a leave of absence and was with him right now–Ron was waiting in the Headmaster’s office for his brother to come out from the fireplace.

Suddenly, the fireplace had dust scattered everywhere as Percy appeared, coughing and swatting his hand everywhere. “Percy!” Ron grinned, rushing forward and pulling his older brother into a hug. Percy smiled, wrapping his own arms around Ron like they hadn’t seen each other in years–but the truth was just that Ron missed his older brother dearly. Ginny would kill to be here.

“I missed you.” Ron mumbled, whilst Percy murmured the same thing to him. He was glad that Percy actually left his job for him.

“Ready, Ron?” Percy asked, a soft chuckle on his lips, which was a little unusual for his cold older brother. “Gringotts, here we come.” Ron chuckled, taking the floo after Percy had left.

They arrived at Gringotts with a noisy atmosphere, wizards, witches, and goblins were crowding the bank. The last thing he heard from Harry was that Fleur was working at Gringotts. After graduating from Beauxbatons, she moved here and pursued a job to learn more English.

Ron subconsciously held his brother’s hand tighter, staring at the crowd. Percy patted his back before they went through all the measures needed to enter. They went inside a place–it was spacious yet a little empty, then to a separate room, where his mother was sitting down on a chair, looking like she hadn’t slept in days, she looked as if she had aged ten more years in the past few months.

When she spotted them both, she barely reacted. But her eyes were on Ron for most of the time. Percy instinctively pulled him closer and stared at his own mother. "Well, don't you look horrid?" Ron flinched, her eyes trailing around his hair. He forgot how badly she reacted when Charlie dyed his hair a streak of green back then.

“Ron was called here?” Percy said, clearing his throat–making his mother flicker back to reality. Percy didn't say it in a...pleasant tone, but rather pissed. “He asked me to accompany him here, since you called him over for business--on a school day."

“It’s regarding the Prewett’s.” Molly said almost immediately. “The inheritance.” The moment that word left her lips, the room fell silent. It was always common knowledge in their family that the older brothers, Bill and Charlie would inherit the title of either Lord Weasley or Lord Prewett when their father was ready to retire from his position.

Ron couldn’t see the reason why he was summoned for something–where were his older brothers at, anyway? His mother looked distressed, like she hadn’t slept in days. He turned to look at Percy, who had his nose scrunched, he was probably thinking the same thing as Ron was.

“Then why isn’t Bill or Charlie here?” Percy shot back quickly, crossing his arms with a furrow of his brow–the million dollar question. “They are older, supposed to inherit either the Weasley patriarchy or the Prewett title.” He added, a little annoyed.

Molly sighed, rubbing her temples. “That’s the thing.” She said, raising her voice, a little panicked and confused. “My brother, Fabian, left behind a specific document before his death. A condition on whoever would inherit his title, since he had no heirs.” Molly exhaled. “You see, my brother was no ordinary man–he had an ability.”

Ron felt all the blood in his body run cold. Oh what the fuck was this all of a sudden. Perch seemed to notice the way he froze all of a sudden, as realization dawned on Ron–ability–an ability?

“Fabian would start passing out in the hallways, with black…ink, rolling down his eyes and blood leaving his nose–A magical inheritance. My brother was able to have visions of the future.” Ron stared at his mother, he hadn’t even told Percy about his ability, oh merlin. “And in this document–which was sealed until this day–states that only Ronald Billius Weasley can inherit the title of Lord Prewett, who will have a similar ability to the one he possesses.”

Her tone was sharp--and once again, the room fell into complete silence. Ron could feel them both turn to look at him with wide eyes–from Percy’s part–the one from his mother was more demanding, asking for answers to things she knew he knew.

“A similar ability to Fabian’s--my brother, he was someone who could see into the future, and what about you, Roxanne?” She gritted out, furious.

“Mom.” Percy hissed in warning just as Ron flinched like he had been hit by a carriage. “Ron, can you explain what our dearly departed uncle is talking about?” He questioned–they were searching for answers–his dead uncle saw him coming, Fabian Prewett knew that Ron Weasley would inherit a magical inheritance like his.

Ron felt his throat run dry with all the thoughts swarming his mind, attacking all at once. He felt his whole feverish body tremble as his mind hammered and pounded against his skull with how painful it was. “I–” After a few minutes, his mother began impatiently tapping the table and stood up, fists slamming the table loudly.

“What is Fabian talking about in these papers?!” Molly yelled, seething. “You have an ability, a magical inheritance? And you kept it from us! How could you not tell your family something so important like this!” She gestured around with her hands in a frenzy, and Ron almost blurted everything out–he couldn’t handle the way his own mother glared at him with so much contempt.

Percy inhaled sharply, before groaning loudly. “Mom! Can you shut your mouth for once?! Ron doesn’t have to tell you–or us anything! He doesn’t owe us anything immediately, and while the news of him having a magical inheritance is insane, maybe try not to yell at your own son!” He shot back.

“She is my daughter!” She screamed, a bit feral. “Roxanne is my oldest daughter!”

Percy face-palmed, gritting his teeth. “Give it up mom, she doesn’t exist–and even our own dead uncle we never met recognizes that fact!”

Ron watched as his mother and older brother continued to argue back and forth, he felt a shiver run up his spine as they kept on screaming–with his mother yelling about the fact that Ron kept it from them, and Percy screaming about how he didn’t owe her anything. “Can you two–stop?!” To his surprise, they actually stopped fighting and shifted their gazes to him.

“I..got my magical inheritance during fourth year, before the final Triwizard challenge–I was able to have visions of past events, where I saw Crouch Jr transform into Moody using a polyjuice potion, and it continued after that–It’s been driving me mad–I can’t sleep properly, I live in constant fear or passing out somewhere random and start seeing shit! Dumbledore knows, Snape knows–all the professors know! Harry and Hermione know, George knows!” He said all in one breath, and by the end of it, his chest felt like it had something heavy lifted off, Ron’s breathing became uneven as they both gaped at him.

“I have…so many ques–what the fuck?” Percy blurted out, “How did I miss any of this!”

Molly rolled her eyes. “You’re a kid, she’s a kid, you aren’t suitable to care for Roxanne.”

“Shut up, mom!” Ron couldn’t take it anymore, she actually flinched when he yelled. “Look, to you, I will always be your daughter–and I'm sorry I will never be your daughter–but I will never be sorry for being your damn son! So, suck it up!”

Percy blinked–before he grinned, almost sad. “Can we talk about the inheritance–Ron is inheriting the title of Lord Prewett?”

Molly was quiet, a pin drop could break the silence. “Heirship first, then full Lordship will be automatically handed over once she reaches adulthood.” Percy nodded, mentally jotting down notes for the future.

“I’ll call in the goblin in charge of the heirship ring.” And with that, she stood up and left the room, leaving both a stunned Percy and Ron behind to bask in the uncomfortable silence.

“When were you going to tell me about this?” Percy broke the silence. “I could’ve helped you.”

Ron pursed his lips, fiddling with his thumbs nervously. “I didn’t know how you’d react if I told you. I was planning to, eventually. I never planned on keeping the whole thing to myself. George found out by accident, when I passed out on the floor, begged him not to say a word.” He admitted, remembering the time it happened–the desperation he felt.

“I understand, Ron.” Percy said, sighing–”I’m worried for you, though. An ability like this isn’t something to take lightly. Magical inheritances are rare, scarce, and dangerous. People will hunt you down, do anything to get their hands on your power, keep you imprisoned, and hurt you.” 

“I know.” Ron breathed, “Dumbledore made me take Occlumency with Snape during the summer, and every friday, currently.”

Percy hummed, a little dazed from what just happened in this room just a few minutes ago. “I didn’t think Professor Snape of all people would teach you. But it makes sense, he’s skilled–although rather intimidating.”

“That’s what I thought.” Ron chuckled, who knew he would be actually speaking well of the old dungeon bat rather than argue with him? “He’s still a dick, but he’s getting better–I think. Also, did you know that he and Professor Lupin used to date each other when they were younger?”

“What?!” Percy exclaimed, jaw dropped. “Did you see this as well in one of your…visions?”

Ron nodded, “I didn’t expect it at all, until I was forced to watch them make-out for a split second.”

“...How unfortunate..”

Before Ron could say anything else, there was a soft knock at the door, before it creaked open, revealing a goblin at the other end and their mother standing behind him, looking displeased.

The goblin bowed slightly. “Greetings, I am Ragthurn, I manage the Prewett family’s assets. I take it that this young wizard is the one who will be taking the heirship?”

“Yes. I’m Ronald Weasley.” Ron said, a bit startled. The first time he spoke with a goblin was when he was a little younger, when his father took him along for business in Gringotts. He spotted a small midnight blue box in Ragthurn’s hands. “That’s…” The color was beautiful.

Ragthurn stepped forward and offered the box to Ron. “This box holds the Prewett heirship ring, once worn, the family magic shall recognize you and strengthen your own magic.”

Ron carefully took the box in his palm, a little nervous once he opened it. But a soft pat on his shoulder from Percy eased his nervousity. Even when his mother glared daggers at him, Ron slowly opened the box, gasping lightly when he saw a thick but small silver band with intricate navy lining, topped with a medium-sized crimson jewel. It was beautiful–Ron slipped it on his left ring finger, eyes widening as he felt something surge in him.

“Each family heirship ring has its own function, and whilst different from the lordship or ladyship ring power, is very useful. For the Prewett’s, the heirship ring can create a sturdy barrier when needed–while the lordship ring can cause powerful protective charms on anything.” Ragthurn continued explaining, and all Ron could do was listen like a fool.

“I see. Thank you, Ragthurn–may your vaults always be filled with gold.” Ragthurn grinned, before leaving the room. Ron remembered what Harry told him, a proper way to greet a goblin.

Ron stared at the ring resting in his finger--what did this mean, now?