HPNSA - BOOK TWO

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE PEELING




It was still dark when Ron decided to go to Harry’s grave. The sky had a sullen bluish gray color as though a storm was on its way; coincidentally, that was exactly how he felt—dark and dreary, a storm brewing in his blue-green eyes. The howling wind furiously slapped across his face as he passed every headstone until he came to the one that bore the name ‘HARRY JAMES POTTER’, and then he stopped.

“Where’s my stone?” Ron whispered hoarsely. When there was nothing but silence, he asked again, in a clearer voice. “Where’s my stone, Harry?”

Still there was nothing, just a maddening cryptic silence, broken only by the crisp sound of many leaves as the trees leaned against each other bent by the force of the tempest.

He takes out his dagger and moves closer to the stone, and then he began scrapping the name ‘POTTER’ off. The sound of the hard marble chipping as he chiseled it with the blade, seemed to anger the mournful wailing of the wind as it berates him further with every gust.

Nevertheless, he went on, hacking at the stone, erasing the careless disregard for their vows. Underneath Harry’s name, he tried to engrave ‘WEASLEY’. When it became too difficult, he stopped and was only able to write ‘W’. However, this was better, he thought, much better.

He moved back a little, and dug a hole that he estimates to be right above Harry’s head. As he did, he kept talking to the wind, pretending someone was there…listening.

“I was late…they tried to stop me…but I’m here now, Harry…please…” Ron went on. He could feel his tired heart getting heavier with every thrust. “Where’s my stone, Harry?” The tears began to flood his eyes again. He was tired of crying; tired of feeling sorry for himself…of never getting, what he wants.

At last, the depth of the hole satisfied him. He threw the dagger on the ground; he took a deep breath before bending down. Then he let the boiling anger bubbled inside and spill over every inch of him. The fury made him screamed with all his might, “WHERE’S…MY…STONE!”

His voice echoed wildly, bouncing off the cliffs, startling the grackles and ravens that immediately scattered in the velvet sky that now lightened with the newborn morning.

Ron wanted to die. To end his miserable life that seems to get worse everyday. He rocks slowly, feeling his entire body ache from the many wounds inflicted upon him by the battles he had fought in his desperate attempt to get here in time. It mattered little to him though, the pain and the throbbing. He knew they would heal and many would disappear as they have been treated well by expert hands and magic potions. What he could not bear was the emptiness that was boring into him like a drill. Its unforgiving hands tempting the burning anger that now enflamed his soul.

“Why? Why was Draco given that chance, and I was not?” Ron growled. “Why, Harry? WHY?” His hand raked the loose soil and snow.

A boundless jealousy reawakened his hatred for Draco. Always favored, things always came so easy for Slytherin’s prodigal son—everything handed to him on a silver plate. While Draco received the gift without much effort on his part and in the safety of the castle, he had to risk life and limb—and his own son--to have it, yet the fates still denied him this chance.

He sat up, blinking away the tears. He stared at the sky that was now vibrant with colors as the sun stretched forth his amber fingers. Soon the halls and corridors will be filled with people eager to see him, eager to hear his tale. However, Ron only wanted to see one person. He only wanted to hear one tale. Ironically, though the castle was protected by an enchantment so powerful that not even the Dark Lord would be able to penetrate its boundaries, the one person he wanted to see had been taken away by no less than Hermione Granger. For Hermione to take Draco out of the castle at this time meant only one thing: the threat to Draco’s life was about to return to Hogwarts.

All the repulsive things he could have done to Harry entered Ron’s mind making him shake with rage. Then something struck him; Harry chose Draco, and forgave him. When Hermione told him this a few days ago, he tried to consider the notion that Draco’s deed was, in fact, not as severe as he feared. However, this latest escape had proven that notion wrong, and that Draco had done something worthy of his anger. To think that Harry wasted a precious gift to forgive him for whatever he did planted a different image in his mind and he asked himself, was there something more than a civil relationship between them?

He would never accept this; Harry was his. To share him with anyone was inconceivable. To share him with Malfoy was devastating. The more he thought about it, the more he became eager to hunt him down and find out what really transpired during those days in the Forbidden Tower.

He needed to end this battle lest he loses his mind for it now whirled with emotions too strong for him to control. The Order told him to wait for Dumbledore who was helping the Bureau fix the tear in the Border that eventually became Aveddon’s escape. Ron was, however, losing faith in the Order for they seemed to have gone to incredible odds to protect Draco from him. He decided to act on his own, though they would not help him find those who took part in the ritual, there was one other who knew, and he was still inside the castle.

He slowly stood, drew his sword, and stormed towards the dungeons searching for a rat.


***


Aidan McGrugger told the members of the Order all that Dumbledore had instructed him to relay. They found relief knowing that Dumbledore had the full support of the Bureau as they face the threat of werewolves and possibly vampires in Britain. They were sending some of their finest men over to clean the streets of Lycans very soon.

Every now and then, Arthur could see a flicker in Aidan’s eyes that made him nervous. His suspicion that there was more to this Knight than meets the eye, was confirmed when Remus Lupin entered the room. Aidan hissed at the Professor who, for the first time, they heard growl while in his human form.

“Remus!” Minerva called out. She looked at both who stood at opposite sides of the room, looking dangerously at each other as though preparing to meet in bloody battle. “Calm yourselves! Both of you!”

Aidan hissed again. “To which tribe do you belong, Lycan?”

“I belong to no tribe.” Remus replied. “And my name, is Remus John Lupin. I refuse to be addressed otherwise.”

Nymphadora shifted in her seat nervously but Rio calmly placed his hand upon her.

“Aidan, Remus was infected when he was a child.” Minerva said. “He has not joined any tribe since.”

“Nor would I.” Remus assured them. “And this is one of the reasons why.”

Arthur saw Aidan’s mouth curved to a smile—a devious smile. He could feel that there was something evil about this man. However, Dumbledore trusted him, and Albus always had a good judge of someone’s character.

“Jazz told us that you did not want to come over. Afraid to risk a full Vampiric war between your clan and another that existed nearby.” Alastor informed him. “What made you change your mind?”

Aidan lifted a vial that hung upon his neck. “Albus blinded them for me.”

“When shall Ron begin his training?” Minerva asked.

“Soon.” Aidan answered. “His wounds are healing faster than I expected. He will be fit to start the day after tomorrow.”

“And you need one room for this particular training session, correct?” Kingsley asked.

“Correct. One large enough and would be able to withstand firespells. The rest of the Knights from my order will arrive soon with the rest of the supplies. Has Professor Snape finished the potions?” Aidan asked.

There was a general eye contact between the members of the Order mingled with a couple of grunts and a few head shaking.

“Alright,” Aidan said gathering there was something wrong with the Potions Master. “I have brought some potions with me, though it would not be enough. Shall I send for more?”

“No, Aidan. After Dumbledore returns, Professor Snape will have gone back to his normal self, and would be more than willing to make the potions.” Minerva said.

“What is wrong with the good Professor?” Aidan asked. “Surely he’s not missing Albus that much, is he?”

“We don’t exactly know. He has locked himself inside his office and said he would not speak to anyone other than Dumbledore. We recently found him on the floor in a trance.” Remus answered.

Aidan nodded his head. "Does he do that often?”

“No. This is bizarre even for Severus. Something compelled him to do this to himself.” Minerva said.

“Is Ron fit, do you think?” Tonks asked.

“Why’d you ask?” Remus said.

“Don’t you think he needs a bit of…counseling?” Tonks said.

“What counsel would you give someone who has lost as much as he?” Arthur said. “I couldn’t even ask him what happened to Archer, he’ll go mad.”

“I feel so sorry for him,” Tonks said holding her face. “You should have seen the look in his face when he realized he didn’t make it in time. He was devastated!”

“Who wouldn’t be? Imagine what he had to go through to get here? Add to that, he feels the guilt of not knowing where his son was transported to, with no less than the Dursleys!” Arthur said. “It’s a wonder he’s still sane.”

“Don’t feel too depressed, a little madness might just help him do his task.” Aidan said coldly.

“And what do you know about his task?” Arthur asked feeling a bit annoyed at Aidan’s lack of sympathy.

“A lot.” Aidan answered.

“And why is that?” Alastor asked.

However, the answer came not from the Knight, but from Minerva. “Aidan, used to be a Defender himself.”

The announcement renewed their interest in Aidan who, Arthur swore, seemed to feel a pang of pain run through him as Minerva reminded him of his past. Arthur realized that Aidan failed his task.

“You were a Defender,” Arthur asked.

“Yes, I was.” Aidan answered. “I have spoken with Ji, parleyed with her. I know exactly what Ron was asked to do.”

Arthur felt pity towards the Knight who seemed to have shrunk before his very eyes. Aidan, who sat beside the window, looked out into the dark dawn, and Arthur saw Ron in him. This was what Ron would become should he fail in his task—broken, bitter, and unfeeling.

“Is that why you decided to become a Vampire?” Minerva asked.

Aidan looked at her and smiled, again there was that flicker in his eyes and the moment of weakness disappeared immediately.

Tonks looked at Aidan nervously. “You’re a Vampire?”

“Yes, and Remus here, is a Lycan.” Aidan pointed out. “Welcome to the dark side of the world!”

“Why?” Tonks asked.

“Why? Why did I choose to become a Vampire?” Aidan said. Tonks nodded. “Because Ji has shut the gates of death for me. No matter what I do, I will not die. To rot and suffer infinitely was something I was not prepared to endure. Therefore, I decided to become the undead. There is always a way around these things you see. Ron will be faced with the same choice should he fail.”

“Ron will never take that route.” Arthur assured them.

“No, I offered it to him before, Arthur.” Aidan answered. “But we’ll see. I hope that he succeeds so that he will never have to see that route.”


***

“You can stay here for a while.” Hermione said opening the door; she placed the keys in a ceramic bowl that was on top of a shelf near the door. She had taken Draco to their summerhouse in Dover.

Draco nodded every now then as he examines the collection of muggle things around the house. Hermione went inside one of the rooms and, from the sound of it, opened several windows. She then went into the kitchen and plugged the refrigerator, then took the teapot filled it with water and started the stove. She checked the phones, and then uncovered the furniture. There was a large brown loveseat, two bean bags, and a low round coffee table with magazines underneath in the very middle. There was also a television and a stereo set near the windows.

Hermione went to him conjuring a spell, then after a while, she smiled. “There! I’m officially secret keeper.”

Draco, though he felt grateful, now felt completely puzzled by Hermione’s sudden change of heart. “Why are you doing this?” Draco asked.

“What do you mean?” Hermione said.

“Why are you helping me? If you knew what I did, I was expecting you to want my head as well.” Draco said.

“That can be arranged, Draco. ” Hermione said coldly. “Besides, I’m not saving your life to help you. I’m trying to help Harry.”

“Help Harry?”

“He wouldn’t have forgiven you if he feels you deserved whatever you got. But he did, and I saw what he saw. You were infatuated with him, weren’t you?” Hermione said.

Draco felt like a dagger had been stabbed in his stomach. He was never faced with the question before, and he knew he could deny what he really felt, though it would be pointless. Knowing Hermione, she probably had it all figured out.

“Silence means yes.” Hermione concluded.

“So what if I did, that doesn’t answer my first question. Why are you helping me? How is helping me, going to help Harry?”

“I’m afraid that there will be nothing left of Ron after he’s done with the task, if he ever gets through with it. Harry will need someone.” Said Hermione running towards the whistling kettle; she turned off the stove, took two cups from the cupboard, and began fixing tea for both of them.

“You’re thinking I should take Ron’s place.” Draco said after a while.

“Why not? I’ve seen the two of you during Archer’s birth. It’s quite obvious. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind at all.” Hermione said.

Draco nodded. “I suppose it’s not too bad a notion.”

“Nope. It’s brilliant if you ask me. Harry will learn to forget Ron sooner if there was someone to take his place. Archer would love you too, you’ll see.” Hermione said smiling.

“You talk as though you’re so certain.” Draco said. Hermione did not answer and from her silence, Draco could see a different angle to this heroic act. “I think you want Harry to end up with me because you’re still in love with Weasley, aren’t you?”

“Rubbish! It’s been over between us. I’m looking out for Harry. Ron might not even survive. It’s just so much better to plan ahead of time, rather that wait for disaster to happen.” Hermione answered.

Draco took a deep breath then cursed in an undertone. “You sure he doesn’t know this place?”

“No. He has never been here. No one has…” Hermione said. Then she sighed remembering there was one who knew. “Viktor…”

“Krum?” Draco asked. Hermione nodded. “What about him?”

“Well, he knows. He came here to bring me the books I gave to Harry about Nymphrodites.” Hermione said.

“Did you know that he worked for the Dark Lord?” Draco asked.

“Yes, Rio and the Knights mentioned that.”

“He was there the day Peter told my father that Harry was a Nymphrodite.” Draco revealed.

Hermione’s face seemed to lose color. “What?”

“He was there, with Igor Karkaroff.” Draco continued. “We didn’t get along so don’t ask me for details. For some reason he despised me.”

“Come on Draco, everyone despised you before.” Hermione snorted.

“Thank you.” Draco answered sarcastically.

“Well, we should learn to live together. I don’t think I’ll be returning to the castle just yet. Make yourself at home. I’ll call my parents and tell them we’ll be using this house for a while.”

“Wouldn’t that be giving away our location?” Draco said.

“No. Because they’ll be leaving for France tomorrow.”


***

Peter Petigrew was trying to finish the bread that had been brought to him by Filch that morning. He was almost through when someone spoke in the shadows that lurked inside his cell.

“Enjoying yourself, Scabbers?”

“R—Ron?”

Ron emerged from the darkness. Peter dropped the piece of bread and coiled in the corner, covering himself.

“I just need names, Scabbers.” Ron said in a low, almost monotonous tone. “Who took part in the ritual?”

“I—I can’t—you see—I—ack! ” The old rat began to choke for Ron had gripped his throat firmly with his hand.

“I just need their names, Scabbers.” Ron said. “That’s all. Make it easy for both of us.”

“I---I---“

“Please don’t make me kill you,” Ron tightened his grip.

“A—A--All right!”

Ron let go of his neck. Peter coughed terribly, and then he looked at Ron shaking his head in fright, hoping that Ron would not press him to answer. Ron’s eyes were unforgiving, swimming in rage. Peter knew he had to say at least one name.

“Crabbe!”

“Who else?”

Peter felt the stinging pain shooting through his palate. He tried to ease it with his tongue. The burning sensation was now spreading inside his mouth.

“WHO ELSE!”

“Bellatrix!” Peter cried. Now his tongue burned terribly and he tried to scrape away the pain with his hands.

“Who else?”

“Rockwoo--!”

“ROCKWOOD?” Ron repeated. Peter nodded his head. “Crabbe, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rockwood…Who else?”

“They---‘exed—me!” Peter mumbled as his tongue began to swell.

“I don’t care! I’ll kill you if won’t tell me!” Ron cried. “Did Draco take part? Did he? He did, didn’t he? DIDN’T HE?”

Peter was now in fit of epileptic seizures, his eyes shot far up its sockets, his mouth filled with froth. Ron saw that his tongue had swelled out of his mouth.

Ron stood and walked around the cell, then he took his wand, aimed it at Peter who was twisting on the floor.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

Peter levitated in the air then was hurled against the wall. He falls on his face; the floor shatters his front teeth. Ron levitated him again and flung him one more time against the wall. Then he marched forward and picked him up by the collar of his shirt.

“Did Draco take part in the ritual?”

Peter’s mouth was now sputtering blood.

“DID HE?” Ron roared.

When he would not answer, Ron pummeled him with angry blows. By the time he stopped, Peter’s face was severely mangled that he could not even open his eyes.

Ron drops him on the floor and drew his sword. “You might as well die, if I can get no other information from you.” He lifted the blade and was about to drive it through the huddled body on the floor when something hit his hands burning it so that he dropped the sword with a clang on the floor.

He turned around, holding his hand for it hurt terribly. Arthur had hexed him. He stood a few paces away and was looking at him reproachfully, while Fred, Charlie, Neville, and Seamus looked at Peter, horrified at what he had done. The rest of the Order looked upon him with mixed opinions—others disappointed, others saddened by this change, while others look at him worryingly.

“You don’t have enough reasons to justify this action, Mr. Weasley.” Minerva said. “This is so unbecoming! Dumbledore placed the spell upon him so that he would not talk. Albus would not have tolerated this, and neither would I!”

Ron just looked at her as though her words passed through his ears and into oblivion. He turned around, picked up his sword, looked at all their faces, and walked out.

Arthur tried to stop him, grabbing him by the arm, but he wrenched himself away, brushing passed Fred and Charlie.

“Someone help me get Peter to the infirmary, please.” Minerva said.

“I’ll talk to him, Dad.” Charlie said and he turned and ran off.



“Ron!” Charlie called out.

“Leave me alone, Charlie!” Ron warned.

“I’ll hex you if you don’t stop.” Charlie said. “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”

The spell hit Ron and he stiffened and fell to the ground. He lay there staring at the ceiling when Charlie approached him.

“Why are you doing this? This will not bring Harry back!” Charlie said. “We are doing everything we can to help you. With the sacrifice we have given, you should at least show a little respect! Especially for Dad!”

The spell was wearing off sooner than it should for Ron’s cloak had decreased its effectiveness by more than half. He started to move his hands and soon he sat up.

“Don’t let this ruin your life. Please Ron!” Charlie pleaded.

Ron shook his head and stood. His legs were still trying to recover from the spell making him hobble forward. His defiance frustrated Charlie.

“Where are you going? Ron!”

But Ron moved on until at last his legs were free from the spell. Then he sprinted and ran as fast as he could, leaving Charlie behind.


***


Pansy Parkinson was heading towards the Slytherin dormitory when something grabbed hold of her and pinned her against the wall. Ron had been hiding in the shadows waiting for one of them to pass by. Pansy’s unfortunate urge to take an early nap made her the unwilling participant in Ron’s quest of finding where the rest of Draco’s former gang was hiding.

Pansy slowly reached for her wand but Ron anticipated her move and grabbed the wand from her hand. He broke it into two then threw it on the floor. He then looked at Pansy who was barely breathing and was looking at him like he was the Dark Lord himself. He moved forward, covered her mouth with his hand, while holding her neck with the other.

“I can break your neck just as easily…” Ron warned her. “So don’t even dare me, for I feel no love towards you nor for anyone from your house. You lot can die for all I care.”

Pansy looked at him nodding fearfully, sobbing and sniveling, and hardly daring to breath. Ron slowly lowered his hand.

“Where’s Vincent Crabbe?”

“I…I…” Pansy stammered. Ron tightened his grip on her neck. She started to choke as his hand cut off the air slowly.

“Again, Pansy, don’t lie to me! I want to know where Vincent Crabbe is. I will let you go, if you tell me where he and his fucking family are staying.” Ron said. He slowly eased his grip on her throat.

Pansy gasped for air then swallowed hard several times. “I think they are in his father’s house in Worcester. That was the last thing I heard. I know nothing more.” Her trembling voice cracked with her sobbing.

Ron slowly let her go. Pansy sank to the floor shaking in her fright.

Ron headed straight for the room where Aidan and Rio were staying. Aidan would be asleep now, hiding himself from the sun, but Rio would be fully rested and willing to help him. He needed to get more potions before heading out to Worcester to hunt down Crabbe. He was almost at the door when Arthur called out to him.

“Ron,”

He stopped but didn’t turn around. He did not want to see his father knowing he’d be crushed by his kindness. He turned the knob and pushed open the door.

“Ron, please.” Arthur begged.

“I did not mean for you to suffer, father.” Ron said.

“I know you didn’t. No one says you did.” Arthur said. “Son,”

“Please don’t call me that.” Ron said.

“What?”

Ron could feel his heart burn; the sobs were rising in huge chunks, choking him. How he wished they would just leave him alone having them near only reminded him of a past life he so longed to have again.

“I don’t want to be your son,”

“Ron,”

“I don’t want to be Ron! I want to be no one!” Ron roared.

Arthur walked up to him, grabbed his shoulder, and forced his youngest son to face him.

“You will always be Ron. I will always be your father! We will always be here, behind you!” Arthur said.

Ron saw his father’s eyes swimming in a pool of tears. To see his father devoured by the tragedy that seemed to follow him crushed his already withering heart.

“I—I can’t stand it anymore—“ Ron said holding back the sobs that shook him terribly.

“Let me help you, son. I implore you, do not shut us out of your life!” Arthur pleaded.

“Maybe you should shut me out of yours.” Ron said.

“Ron, we don’t blame you, nobody blames you…” Arthur said.

“Maybe you should! Maybe…Goodbye, father!” Ron said pulling himself out of his fathers hold. He goes inside the room and shuts door behind him.

Arthur kept knocking at the door, calling out to him, begging him to come out and talk. But to Ron, prolonging the inevitable only meant more harm, more suffering…soon there’ll be more than what they could bear.

After a while, the knocking stopped, and Ron decided to move. He opened the inner chambers and found Rio sitting on a chair, waiting for him. “Where have you been?”

“Out.” Ron said. “Aidan asleep?”

“The sun is out…of course, he’s asleep.”

“Good. We have to go. I know where to find one of the Death Eaters who took part in the ritual.” Ron said, filling his belt with vials of potions (they are able to carry up to fifteen). He opened one and downed its contents quickly.

Rio followed suit. “Won’t they stop us?”

Ron sheathed his sword. “Let them try.”


***


Draco was fingering the amulet that hung upon a tight chain around his neck. He dared not pull at it afraid of feeling the shock. It did not bother him at all as the chain was thin and the pendant light. However, the fact that the Dark Lord gave it to him, and that he was not allowed to take it off, made him realize it was meant to do something other than decorate his neck.

He stood and walked towards the window. He looked outside-dawn was upon them. By the end of this day, Harry will leave and stay in a world where none may follow. Draco then remembered what Hermione told him, about him and Harry living together, raising Archer. He played around with the idea for a while, but soon realized that it was too impossible because he knew, should Harry live again, he would not want to be with anyone except Ron.

He was an unwilling witness to their love for each other, and though he envied them greatly, he was happy for Harry. Even if Ron should die, Harry would not want to replace him. Draco then realized what Hermione had been planning all along but for the sake of peace, he decided not to contradict her anymore.

The sun was now peeking out of the clouds. Harry’s day with Ron would begin soon. He heard the door open and turned to see Hermione coming out brushing her eyes.

“Draco! You’re up early.” She greeted, smiling at him sweetly. She then proceeded to make breakfast.

Draco could not help but be reminded of Candice. How he misses her and Martha. He went to the kitchen and watched as Hermione started the stove, adding two eggs on the buttered pan, and a few bacons. She also took several slices of white loaf, buttered them and put them inside a toaster. Soon the entire kitchen was filled with the delicious smell of the fried bacon and buttered toast.

Draco felt a bit awkward as they sat together eating breakfast. Hermione noticed and stopped chewing.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“What?” Draco echoed.

“Something’s bothering you.” Hermione said.

“I just realized I’m sitting here, eating breakfast with you.” Draco said.

“Oh, you feel bad sharing breakfast with a mudblood do you.” Hermione said sarcastically.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what is it?” Hermione insisted.

“It’s just…strange. You and I…well, we never got along.” Draco recounted.

“So did you and Harry, that doesn’t seem to bother you at all.” Hermione pointed out.

“It did, but he was persistent to befriend me.” Draco said.

“Oh, so you want me to do the same.”

“No. I just…forget it.”

“All right, I’ll do a lot better than this. Tell you what, after this, we can head off to the market place and you can help replenish our stocks. How about that?” Hermione offered.

Draco thought for a while. Then he nodded. “That sounds great.”


***


“Ron’s gone!” Seamus announced.

“What do mean, he’s gone?” Fred asked.

“He left! He took Harry’s firebolt and left.” Seamus said.

“What? Where to?” Charlie asked.

“He said that he was going after Crabbe.” Seamus said. “I think he’s going to kill him.”

“We have to tell dad.” Charlie said.

All three of them headed off to the Great Hall. Arthur was there, as well as the rest of the Order, having breakfast with the rest of the castle’s inhabitants. Their sudden entrance startled everyone.

“Charlie, Fred,” Arthur said. “What is it?”

“Ron is gone!” Charlie said.

“What? When?” Minerva asked. She immediately rose from her seat upon seeing them, and rushed towards Arthur.

“A few minutes ago,” Seamus answered.

“He took Harry’s Firebolt.” Fred added.

“Do you know where he’s heading?” Arthur asked.

“Yes.” Charlie said. “He found out where Crabbe is hiding.”

“What?” Arthur and Minerva chorused.

“How?” Arthur asked.

“We don’t know. Peter must have told him!” Charlie said.

“No, Peter doesn’t know.” Minerva said.

“I told him.” Said a weak female voice; they all turned around to see Pansy Parkinson standing behind; her eyes swelled with tears and she was shaking like a leaf.

“Ms. Parkinson,” Minerva said.

“He threatened to kill me! He broke my wand and started to strangle me!” Pansy broke down. Minerva ran to her and placed her arms around the young girls shaking body.

“Arthur, Ron is out of control, we have to get him here as soon as possible!” Minerva said.

“Where is he heading?” Arthur said.

“Worcester.” Pansy answered. “I told him to go to Worcester.”

“We have to follow him. Charlie we need Knossos. Have him ready.” Arthur said.

Fred turned to follow Charlie but Arthur stopped him. “I want to help, Dad.”

“No, you need to be here, I don’t want my sons scattered. Stay here and watch over your mother.” Arthur said. Then he followed Charlie outside.


***


Ron had been following Vincent Crabbe all morning. He found him coming out of a store and now he was heading off towards the bridge. Vincent looked around before plunging into the hole underneath the bridge where he disappeared.

“Let’s go.” He told Rio.

The two knights moved in like cougars and soon they found the entrance to an underground tunnel. They went in and as soon as they got within a few meters, they heard the sounds of a rather rowdy party inside. Ron immediately recognized some of the voices. They belonged to the missing Slytherins who did not go to Hogwarts when Dumbledore sought them out. He looked inside the small room; it had a musty smell, and with only one ventilation duct, it quickly filled with the smoke that the group of teenage boys puffed. About six of them gathered there, all belonged to Malfoy’s gang, and they were now drunk with the smoke of the weed that burned aromatically and the alcohol they so greedily downed.

Ron could almost see Draco among them and he felt the rage return, blinding him. He drew his sword and then hit the light with his Sai. There was a brief gasp of surprise from the group, then the sound of a blade slicing through human flesh was heard, then silence, and the smell of fresh blood mingled with the aroma of beer and pot filled the small room.

Ron and Rio then headed out and moved deeper into the sewer. They looked into every whole but only one appeared to be in use. It was empty though. Ron could see clothes scattered about on the floor. Spell books and magic potions on every corner.

“What? Who are you?”

Ron turned around and saw the one he was looking for. The Death Eater stared at him; his eyes widened in terror. He was about to conjure a spell when a loud scream coming from the other side of the tunnel was heard.

“I think your wife found Vincent.” Ron said coldly.

The wizard turned around and ran.

“Rio!” Ron cried and soon both Knights pursued him. Ron took out his dagger and threw it at the woman who frantically ran. She fell over as the blade sank into her back.

“Ron!” Rio cried out.

“Kill her! Crabbe is MINE!” Ron growled.

The wizard now ran outside and was about to head into the highway. Ron knew if he died in any other means he would not count. Ron drew out his Sai and threw it. The weapon hit Crabbe behind his left knee, making him howl in pain. He falls down and crawls on the ground. Ron caught him and pulled out his Sai. He then turns the Death Eater around and sat on his chest.

“MERCY!” Crabbe begged. “HAVE MERCY! Please!”

“Tell me where the others are hiding!” Ron roared.

“I don’t know!” Crabbe cried out.

“Bellatrix! You know where she is!”

“Yes! She’s with the Dark Lord! I don’t know where they are!” Crabbe cried.

Ron nodded. At least he knew where the witch was. “Rockwood! Where is he?”

“I don’t know!”

Ron drew his sword.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!” Crabbe cried. “I think he’s in Oxford!”

“WHERE IN OXFORD?” Ron said.

“Near Kidlington! I don’t know where exactly, but that’s where I last heard he stayed. I don’t work for the Dark Lord anymore! Please, have mercy!” Crabbe pleaded.

“You pathetic fool!”

“Please, Ron,”

“My name is not Ron,”

“What?”

“I am Keizer.” He drove the blade through the wizard’s neck then twisted it. He felt Crabbe convulse underneath him for several minutes. His eyes wide open, were now dilated as he sputtered his last breath. Ron pulled out his sword and a necklace flew out. He picked it up and looked at the pendant. Curiously, it began to change hue the moment it touched his hand and soon he heard a voice whispering inside his head, telling him to wear it. He was about to when he suddenly felt a painful, burning sensation on his back. He tried to ignore it but then the intensity became severe that it almost felt like someone was burning his skin with a blowtorch.

“RIO!”

Rio ran to him as he twisted on the ground. “WHAT IS IT? Are you wounded?”

“MY BACK! RIO, MY BACK! IT’S BURNING!” Ron kept screaming for the pain was unbearable.

“Stay still!” Rio cried. He tried to push the clasp that held Ron’s upper uniform together but Ron was rubbing his back against the ground. “HOLD STILL! THERE!”

Ron immediately took the garment off and tried to reach his back.

“Ron…” Rio said. “There’s something written on your skin,”

The pain slowly subsided leaving Ron gasping for air. “What the bloody hell?”

“Ron, there is something written on your skin!” Rio repeated.

Ron looked at him, the pain on his back slowly disappeared, leaving him shaking and breathing hard. “What are you talking about?”

“There is a drawing on your skin, some kind of Pentagram.” Rio informed him.

“What?” Ron drew his sword. “Give me your sword,”

Rio drew his blade and handed it to Ron. Using both swords as a mirror, Ron tried to see what Rio was talking about. There were symbols on his back around what seemed to be a pentagram. He remembered the night he made the Parley with Ji. Before he was sent back, he saw a finger of light drawing the pentagram and all its symbols on his chest. Somehow, it was now on his back. On the right, in the inner circle there was a red patch of swollen skin where a symbol once was. Someone had erased it—peeled it off. “How many symbols do you see?”

“Ten,” Rio said after a while.

“The eleventh was peeled off.” Ron concluded.

“Peeled off?”

“Each symbol I think represents those I need to kill. I have killed one, and so his symbol has been taken out of the Pentagram. Peeled by the hand that burned it there.” Ron said.

“Fucking hell!” Rio gasped. “That sucks! Every time you get one of them, you also get tortured. What for?”

“I don’t know.” Ron answered he too wondered what the purpose of this unnecessary peeling business was. Yet another addition to the long list of unanswered questions that will drive him mad if he paid too much attention to it.

“What rotten luck!” Rio said.

“I’ll get used to it.” Ron reached out for his uniform. He put it back on then picked up the necklace he dropped on the ground.

“What’s that?” Rio asked noticing the strange artifact Ron had in his hand.

“I don’t know, but something tells me I should keep it.” Ron said then he placed it inside his pocket. He looked at Crabbe’s corpse one last time and tried to see if there was any remorse left inside him for what he did. Not far from the entrance of the tunnel was his wife-Rio had killed her. Then he remembered what he did to six of his former schoolmates who were now lying in pool of blood and gut. He could still feel his conscience, eating at him, questioning why he had to kill more than what was needed. Oddly enough, he was glad to know that some part of him still ‘felt’ something close to regret.

“Where to next?” Rio asked handing him his Sai.

“Kidlington.” Ron answered.