HPNSA - BOOK TWO

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MEETING NIN



Charlie and Arthur were about to give up their search when they noticed a huge gathering of Muggles near a bridge. Police cars were everywhere, and they all seemed to be going in and out of the tunnel underneath bringing up what looked like bodies. Arthur felt a pang of fear run through him as he counted the bodies below—Ron killed more than what was needed. Charlie lowered Knossos in a nearby clearing. The two of them had to go on foot from there. He had been hoping they’d catch up with Ron and stop him before he did anything rash. However, something told him they were too late.

As they got nearer, his suspicion that the commotion was somehow related to their search turned out right.

“What happened here, officer?” Arthur asked one of the police officers.

“A bloody massacre, that’s what it is!” answered the man, a horrified look in his plump face.

“Dad, look!” Charlie said, pointing at the other bodies that were recovered.

“It doesn’t look pretty, I tell ya! Never seen so many young men slaughtered like cattle!”

“Young…men?” Arthur said, trying to clear what he had heard. Surely, the officer must have been mistaken on this account. Ron was not here to kill anyone save Crabbe. Arthur went closer to one of the bodies and uncovered it. He gasped sharply--it was Crabbe’s wife, or rather what’s left of her.

“Ron what have you done?” Arthur whispered. He covered the body again and walked back to Charlie.

“You think--Ron did it?” Charlie asked.

Arthur took out a handkerchief to wipe the beads of sweat on his forehead. The picture he saw had shaken him and for a time he could not talk. The two of them just stood there, joining the other muggles that were observing the scene as the police and paramedics tried to play ‘puzzle’ with some of the bodies. When at last, they were done, and the bodies were all lined on the ground, hopefully with all the correct body parts, Arthur and Charlie went to the bodies to identify them.

“Wait,” Hailed one officer. “Do you know these people?”

“Yes, a bit.” Arthur answered.

The officer mumbled incoherently. “Help us identify them then.”

Arthur and Charlie then went from one body to another and the horror they felt increased tenfold. Ron had not only killed Crabbe and his wife, he also killed Vincent and five other Slytherin six years. Vincent was the most mangled as his face had been divided into several parts.

“The one who dunnit must have some kind of vendetta on them. I’ve never seen such wrath!” Said a man who had a camera – obviously from the local press – he took several pictures of Crabbe and the boys. When he got to the woman, he said something that made Arthur’s knee wobble.

“Bloody hell! This woman was carrying a child from the looks of it, officer, look at her belly!”

“She’s the only one who had one stab wound, though her head had been severed. All the others were chopped into pieces. Except for the old man—he died a slow death.” The Officer added.

“We have to go now, Charlie.” Arthur gasped sharply.

Charlie nodded and they slipped into the thick growth of trees nearby and disappeared. Soon they were in the clearing where Knossos was eagerly waiting for them to return.

“Professor McGonagall was right, father. Ron has gone absolutely out of control!” Charlie said.

“How can he do this?” Arthur lamented. “He should never have been sent to New York! His association with these, these…KNIGHTS! That’s what’s causing all this madness in him!”

“He would have joined them nonetheless. You know how much he loved Harry.” Charlie said.

“Charlie, what happened back there—love does not do that. It’s something else, something so unlike Ron. You saw what he did back there—that was the work of a madman!” Arthur cried.

“What if he has gone mad, father?” Charlie sighed. “I hardly recognize him. He wouldn’t even talk to me. He didn’t even bother to see mum, or Ginny.”

“Ginny—Ginny should talk to him, he always had a tender side for her.” Arthur answered.

“I seriously doubt he would listen to her.” Charlie said. “Dad, I think Ron has lost his mind!”

“Don’t say that! He may be a bit upset, about things. I mean you would be too, had you been in his shoes. He’s distraught!”

“Distraught? Butchering his schoolmates, killing Mrs. Crabbe—Dad, I love him too, he’s my youngest brother. But I will not cover his faults. He murdered them! I doubt if even Professor Dumbledore would tolerate it.” Charlie reasoned out.

Arthur could not bring himself to accept that Ron has lost his mind. “I’m sure he had a reason for doing what he did. Unless I hear it from him,” Arthur said.

“Then the sooner we find him, the better for all of us. You have a clue where to head off next?” Charlie asked.

“No. It’s best if we head back to the castle,” Arthur answered.

“What? Dad, we should look for him!” Charlie insisted.

“NO! Charlie, we have no idea where to look, we can’t go about scouring the entire United Kingdom on a dragon. Ron will tell us where he is, if he does his missions this messy, one way or another, he’ll turn up.” Arthur said.

“Perhaps that Aidan McGrugger can help us.” Charlie suggested.

Arthur thought about it; Aidan did say that he was a Defender himself a hundred years ago. He might have some insight into what is happening to Ron, and therefore predict his next move, or even enlighten them as to why Ron has greatly changed.

“Alright. We can ask him. And just about time, the sun is setting, he’ll wake up soon.” Arthur answered.

They mounted the white Dragon and headed back to Scotland. Along the way, Arthur couldn’t help but be mortally afraid that he was going to lose Ron to this task. If he does not die physically, his soul will, or at the very least, he’ll end up broken so badly there’d be very little of him left to recognize.


***


The seaside market in Dover was busy that morning. Hermione loved haggling the vendors to lower their prices and even more so now with Draco beside her, observing her marketing prowess. The look on his face as he tried to understand what Hermione and the vendor were arguing about—of course Hermione always won—was enough to make Hermione’s day complete.

They headed towards the docks and Hermione found that Draco had a passion for the sea. He looked at the boats that lined the pier with so much interest and was even brave enough to ask around.

“Enjoying yourself, Malfoy?” Hermione asked.

“Why? Does it bother you?” Draco replied.

“A bit. I must say that I’ve never pictured you talking to muggles this way. I thought you hated them.” Hermione explained.

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? People always had an idea about what I’m all about. They never really bothered to find out who I really am.” Draco answered. “They judged me and left it at that. That’s what you lot did. You, Potter, Weasley…”

“Well, can you truly blame us?” Hermione said. “I mean, you were very unpleasant, and quite predictable. Everyone seemed to think so,”

Draco snorted and mumbled something softly. “Candice didn’t.”

Hermione saw that pained look in his face again. “You must really love her that much,”

“She was the only one who ever cared for me.” Draco said looking out into the sea. “The real me, that is. Not the foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach you hated so much.”

Hermione snickered a bit, she suddenly remembered that day she hit him on his face. “You deserved that.”

“One good thing came out of that, Pansy started going out with me.” Draco said smiling a bit.

“You and Pansy. I’ve always wondered what the two of you did on your dates.” Hermione asked.

“I didn’t shag her, if that’s what you’re aiming at.” Draco retorted.

“My, my…so defensive! All right, if you didn’t shag her, what did you do then?” Hermione asked.

Draco looked at her disapprovingly. “I’m not going to talk to you about my sex life, Granger.”

“Sex life?” Hermione looked at him raising her left eyebrow sarcastically. But Draco would not be bullied into this conversation it seems, and Hermione had to use a different technique. “Okay, tell you what, why don’t you tell me all about you then.”

“All about me?” Draco echoed.

“Yes, all about the real Draco Malfoy, the one that not many bothered to know. The one that Candice learned to love.” Hermione said.

Draco looked at Hermione longingly. He bowed his head then sighed heavily. After a while, he nodded, and then he said, “We’ll have to sit down somewhere. It’s going to be a long tale.”

“We have all day, Draco.” Hermione said.


***


“Ron, this is the third time that we’ve circled around this whole city.” Rio complained. The sun was setting already, and though the street slowly cleared of people, the distant howling that smote the air told them they would not prowl alone that night.

“We’re not stopping until we find him.” Ron said.

“You’re not even sure he’s here?” Rio asked. “For all we know, he could be hiding somewhere else, or even out of the country. Maybe that Crabbe set you up.”

Ron had been thinking about that—Crabbe might have told them about Kidlington hoping that he would be spared. However, there was no point in turning back, he had to gamble on any information he gets, regardless of accuracy. He had to learn to trust his madness since he trusts nothing anymore.

“Ron, we have to stop and plan this out!” Rio cried.

Ron ignored him and kept on walking. He didn’t want to stop because stopping gave him a chance to think. Thinking opened him to memories--Memories do nothing but hurt him, and he did not want to hurt anymore.

“Ron! Come on, man! Look, we’re just going in circles.” Rio cried. Then a howl much closer than the last one was heard. “Hear that? They are getting closer!”

Ron, though, kept on walking hoping Rio would get the idea. However, the only thing Rio got from all this was anger for he found it incredibly irritating that Ron seemed to ignore even him.

“Damn it, Ronald!” Rio roared. “Don’t treat me like a damn servant! Don’t treat me like you do your family!”

That made Ron stop; Rio had reminded him of his family, of the people who cared, those who are hurting this moment because he defied them…again. Ron liked to think that he was over this ‘weakness’ but it seems he still cared—they still mattered to him, and now he ached again. To realize that he has not been fully numbed by the tragedies that had buried him deep under a heap of misery made him feel vulnerable. Vulnerability made his defenses go on red alert.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Rio!” He growled back.

“In case you have forgotten, this is not my battle, Ronald! I don’t have to do this!” Rio cried.

“Leave then.” Ron snapped.

“What?”

“If you don’t like what I’m doing, then go! You don’t have to follow me around, Rio.” Ron cried.

“What kind of talk is that? Ron! RON!” Rio yelled. When Ron didn’t even turn around but instead kept walking aimlessly, Rio got pissed. “Fucking hell!” Rio marched angrily towards him, turned him around, and hit him in the face.

Ron fell on the hard pavement. He could feel his mouth sting as Rio’s blow cut his upper lip. He looked up at Rio who was panting, his eyes fuming with anger. The last time they fought, Rio nearly pummeled him unconscious. Since then, he had been spared of Rio’s anger, until now.

“I’ve forgotten how hard you punch,” Ron said casually, wiping the blood from his mouth. Another howl smote the air. Ron knew if he gave in to this urge to hit back, both of them would tire out before the Lycans arrived. He had to place it aside for the meantime though it made him shake.

“You needed that! Geez, man! Ron, this is NOT you!” Rio yelled.

“Good! If even you can’t recognize me anymore then my transition is complete.” Ron said.

“Transition to what, a Death Eater?” Rio said mordantly.

Ron stopped for a while; this was the second time he’d been compared to a Death Eater, and though the first opinion made him regret his actions, this second one only irritated him. He felt like Rio was trying to be righteous when he himself was guilty of bloodshed.

“How dare you? What I did back there was revenge!” Ron cried.

“You were supposed to kill ONLY ONE--Crabbe! He was the only one in your list! You went ahead and massacred his whole family! Whatever happened to your respect for human life?” Rio snapped back.

“Don’t lecture me on morals, Rio, for you have none!” Ron said scornfully, he moved closer to the Knight, coaxing him with his glare.

Rio, though, was not thwarted by Ron’s look and met his challenging glare with defiance. “Oh and you do? I had to kill that woman to end her suffering, Ronald! Your dagger punctured her lungs—she was drowning in her own blood!”

Ron didn’t even flinch at Rio’s gory detailing of what had happened to Vincent’s mother. For him, she was just part of the unavoidable casualty count.

“If I didn’t kill her, she’ll warn the others! She had to be silenced!” Ron said.

“What happened to all the spells you learned at Hogwarts? Five years of wand wielding, I’m pretty sure you could have conjured something nasty enough to shut her up!” Rio said.

Then again, Ron was reminded that he had chosen the sword when he could have used his wand. Another addition to the other long list he seemed to be keeping—the list of bad choices. It was more difficult to justify it in his mind this time since a Knight –someone who had the conscience of a rock--was telling him that what he did was wrong.

“You never believed in spells, Rio! Knights were all about weapons and dealing death without question! Why do you question my actions now? Or have you become a lesser Knight?” Ron replied.

Though Ron’s words dripped with disdain, they barely left a mark. Rio threw them back at him with a smile. “You are half the Knight I am Ron! With an attitude like that, you’ll never be a the kind of Knight that I am. You don’t even know what it means. You hide behind the sword thinking it would erase every single pain in your body. You’re a coward, Ron, just like all them wand wielders—just another pathetic wand boy turned Death Eater! Another product of Hogwarts!”

Something about the way Rio mocked Hogwarts made his ears burn. More so, because he could not deny it-Voldemort and many of his followers all came from Hogwarts.

“How dare you,” he said softly.

“Oh, did I hit a soft spot, wand boy?” Rio teased. “Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t have one, save for that big lump on top of your shoulders,”

The pounding of his heart as he rammed his fists at Rio had blinded Ron with rage. He felt every joyful blow sinking into Rio’s body and though Rio hit back, and soon they were on the ground wrestling each other, still he went on remembering all the techniques he had learned from them.

However, Rio was not that easy an opponent. He was able to block Ron’s kick and holding him by the ankle, Rio swung him like a hammer against a wall.

“Had enough…wand boy?”

Ron growled as he charged him, using the Jeet Kun-do technique that he had mastered. Rio managed to block most of his advances, but the last one opened his belly and Ron kicked him, and he was thrown against a street lamp. The iron bent on impact.

However, Rio did not stop, he charged again and though Ron was able to block out most of his blows, Rio was still able to find an opening and a hard kick to his abdomen sent Ron flying across the street.

Ron didn’t stay down though, their uniform was lessening the impact of every blow. Though this was using most of their energy, they both could not feel pain—it was nothing more than exercise. Ron needed to get back at Rio for cutting his lip and when he charged at him again, he aimed for his face. Rio returned the favor, and soon, both had swollen lips and a blackened eye.

A howl that sounded too close made them stop. They both sank to the ground gasping for air. Rio found the whole business worthy of a good laugh and was soon laughing like a Hyena. Ron, though, was not amused.

“You’re off your head!” He said breathlessly.

“Look who’s talking?” Rio jeered. “You call yourself sane?”

“Shut up!”

“You’re getting better with your fighting skills though, I must give you that. Good thing Skyhawk’s training wasn’t washed away by your endless crying.” Rio scoffed.

“Don’t worry, that’s about to change. Soon I’ll be just like you. Someone who doesn’t know what love means. Someone who can’t cry!” Ron said.

“Just because I don’t cry doesn’t mean I don’t feel, Ronald.” Rio said.

“Could have fooled me!” Ron snorted. “You hate love—it’s a weakness remember.”

“Well, it is! Look what it’s done to you! Made you into a walking sword!” Rio said.

“As far as I can remember, it was the Bureau that taught me how to use the sword!”

“Yeah? We didn’t teach you this,” Rio said. “You’re doing this on your own!”

“Who taught me to kill without reserve? Without remorse? No mercy, the tenet said. If I’ve become this heartless killer, it’s because I have embraced the ways of the Bureau.” Ron said.

“The Knights do not kill for pleasure! We’re not bounty hunters, Ron, you of all people should know that. We protect humans from beings that serve them on a buffet table.” Rio said through gritted teeth. “We may be merciless towards demons, Lycans, and Vampires, but that is only because they hunted us first. Before the Bureau was organized, we were livestock, Ron. Food on their table!”

“Then I am doing the same thing. The wizards I hunt are not humans.” Ron retorted. “They are fouler than the Lycans for they prey on humans, not for food, but for pleasure! Before Harry was born, Voldemort and his Death Eaters killed Muggles, and Magic folk alike! We were also hunted!”

“And I have no problem with that. Why do you think I’m still here, with you? I believe in your quest, Ron. But you killed his wife, his son, and five innocent,” Rio said.

“You didn’t see Harry die, Rio! You didn’t see him fight to get air into his lungs! You were not by his side when his eyes slowly lost their glow, and closed!” Ron cried. “I was there! I was there and I couldn’t do a bloody thing! NOT A DAMN THING, RIO!”

Rio looked at him and Ron could see that he was trying to sympathize. That attempt alone made him even more envious of the Knight; while Rio forced himself to feel for Ron, Ron was forcing himself not to.

“I had to watch him suffer, then die! I had to endure the pain of not being able to save him! Of not being there on time---” The bitterness in his cup had been stirred again, and the chunks rose quickly to his throat. He swallowed hard and brushed his hair hoping his eyes would not give in to the tears for he was tired of crying.

“You tried, Ron. Shit man! You tried so hard!” Rio said, trying his best to console him. This time Ron could hear a strain in his voice.

“But I wasn’t good enough—AGAIN! I failed protecting him from the Death Eaters, I failed rescuing him from the Forbidden Tower, and I failed getting to Hogwarts on time!” Ron roared angrily. “I also lost—our son!” he inhales sharply as his eyes flooded with tears. “Damn it!” He wipes his face angrily, brushing his hair in frustration. “DAMN IT!”

“You didn’t mean to!” Rio said slowly. “Nobody blames you for all of that!”

“They don’t need to say the words! I only have to look at them and know,” Ron said. “I just want to stop hurting, Rio. I don’t---I don’t want to feel anymore! I want to be numb, until Harry returns to me.”

“And you think killing will do that for you? It won’t, Ron. No matter how many you kill, you will never be numb, because you still feel love. You love Harry. You love him so much, it’s driving you crazy.” Rio said.

“I should stop loving him, then.” Ron said.

“No. I don’t think you can. Love is the only reason for your task.” Rio replied.

“I should replace it with other emotions…wrath…hate.” Ron said. “Anything, as long as I stop aching.”

“That will get you through the task, Ron. But after that, if Harry finds this unfeeling, inhuman, killer instead of Ronald Weasley, what then?” Rio asked. “You think you can unlearn those things in six months? It’ll take years, Ron. What about your son? Who’s going to take care of him?”

Ron found it hard to answer. He knew, one way or another, one of them wasn’t going to make it out of this alive or unchanged. It had to be him; he had to sacrifice himself to give Harry a chance to save the rest of the world. If Harry decides to take him back, he would consider himself lucky. If he does not, he knew he deserved it, and at the least be free of guilt. Harry would have to raise Archer alone.

***


Hermione had successfully convinced Draco to open up to her. He started with how he managed to ‘survive’ the Malfoy Mansion for sixteen years.

“We thought you were spoiled rotten!” Hermione said; the revelation had amused her greatly, making her giggle foolishly.

“On the contrary, I was rather deprived. My father was always good at keeping appearances. So was I.” Draco lamented. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask Dobby, he’ll tell you how things are in the house.”

“I’ve forgotten about him.” Hermione said. “And you saw your mother die, right?”

“Yes, I wasn’t too depressed, I mean, she never really cared. I was beginning to suspect I was adopted.” Draco said. Then he exhaled heavily. “Candice was the only one who cared for me.”

“Well, when this is all over, you can go and live with Martha.” Hermione suggested. “Or perhaps, ask Pansy to marry you.”

“Don’t tease. I don’t think Pansy will want to marry me, now that I’m poorer than a rat.” Draco snorted.

“Hopefully, when this whole thing is over, we’ll all be able to return to our classes and finish school.” Hermione said.

“What do you plan to do after Hogwarts?” Draco asked.

“Be an Auror, of course!” Hermione said. She was about to take a sip of tea when she saw something near the boats. “It can’t be…”

“What?” Draco asked looking behind him squinting his eyes. “What is it?”

“Wait here!” Hermione said. She slowly stood and walked out of the coffee house, trying hard not to loose sight of the person who stood there, staring back at her. Her foot caught on a loose floorboard and she nearly fell over. “Damn!” When she looked up, the person was gone. She went to where she last saw him and saw a note pinned on the wooden post.

She took the note and opened it. Draco caught up with her and relentlessly asked her about the note that made her hands tremble. Hermione crumpled the paper and closed her eyes tightly then exhaled heavily.

“For the last time, Granger, what is it?” Draco asked.

“Draco, we have to go, come on!” Hermione said.

The urgency in the tone of her voice only made Draco nervous and he began to panic. “Granger!”

“What?”

“I’m not moving until you explain!” Draco insisted.

Hermione hissed. She walked closer to Draco and said, “Viktor’s here. The note’s from him.”

“Krum? What’s he doing here? Where is he?” Said Draco, turning around and looking at every corner making sure. He would not be caught unaware, not by Krum.

“He’s gone. He wants me to meet him back here, tonight.” Hermione explained.

“It’s a trap! Don’t go, Granger”

“No! You don’t understand, I think he’s trying to help us!” Hermione said.

“Help us? You don’t know what that Bulgarian is capable of!” Draco said. “Besides, we don’t know whose side he’s on.”

Something told her to listen to him but part of her wanted to see Viktor again, to hear his side of the story. The Knights have told her that Viktor might be working for Aveddon now, that he had taken Karkaroff’s place in his court.

“I have to give him the benefit of the doubt, Draco.”

“Why?” Draco asked, though Hermione didn’t answer, her eyes told Draco more than what she could say. “I see, you love him still.”

“Let’s go back to the house.” Hermione said softly.

“Wait!”

Hermione turned around. “What?”

“I—I’ll go with you tonight.” Draco said.

Hermione found it amusing to see Draco volunteering amidst his obvious fear of Krum. She decided she should give Draco the same chance she’s about to give Krum. “Alright. We head back home, after dinner, we’ll head back here.”


***


Ron gave in to Rio’s request of sleep. Though he found it difficult to rest with all the things going through his mind, he didn’t want to deprive Rio of it since he knew the Knight had barely slept soundly since he got here. They broke into an empty flat and stayed there for the night. Rio had told him to ignore the Lycans for the meantime.

Ron decided to walk out of the room because Rio’s snoring had become annoyingly loud. There was a long mirror in the middle of the corridor leading down to the kitchen. Ron barely looked at it. He went straight to the kitchen and helped himself to some blueberry cheesecake that was in the refrigerator. As he sat quietly, spooning large amounts of cake into his mouth, he heard a whisper.

“Wear it, and see,” said the voice.

It sounded like it came from another world, chilling and filled with malice. Then he remembered the necklace he took from Crabbe. He took it out and looked at the pendant that now swirled violently with purple and red hues.

“Wear it, and it will show you,” the voice urged.

Ron could not explain it, but a great power somewhere was stopping him from doing what the voice said. He wondered if this was a trick that Voldemort devised, something to lure him in, though he could not think of any reason for the Dark Lord to waste time with him. He wasn’t his enemy—Harry was, and Harry is six feet below the ground. The voice also sounded like a child—a female child.

“Wear it!” the voice pleaded.

As if in a trance, Ron’s hand slowly lifted the chain to his neck. The clasp nearly locked when another voice cried inside his head.

“DON’T! It will destroy you!” Cried the second voice—clearer than the first, and though it, too, sounded like a child’s.

“Wear it!” said the first one, “It will show you the way…”

“Leave him alone!” cried the second voice.

Ron could feel a mounting pressure almost ready to blow his head wide open. He could feel two opposing forces trying to win him over and he knew that the necklace held something that undeniably was part of his quest. He was again faced with a choice- and he was terrible with choices. However, he had to make one lest the voices rent his sanity in two.

“SHUT UP!” Ron cried shutting his eyes tight. He lifted the chain and closed the clasp as it met around his neck—the voices disappeared immediately. He slowly opened his eyes and to his horror, he found himself inside the altar room of the Forbidden Tower.

He turned around and saw the Death Eaters standing in a row behind fourteen who stood around a pillar of wood where Harry hung shaking in fear. He ran towards him and saw that, other than the scar that seemed to have opened, he was unscathed.

“Harry!” Ron cried, but his voice fell flat. He tried to touch Harry but his arms went through. “NO!”

Then he saw two masked Death Eaters approach; one took the mask off and Ron saw it was Bellatrix Lestrange and she held in her hand a vial with black swirling smoke inside.

“Open up Potter,” she said. She forced the contents of the vial down Harry’s throat while the other who kept his mask on forced his mouth open.

Ron wanted to strangle them but knew he was only there to watch. Then a voice that sent shivers down his spine called out.

“BAGMAN!”

It was the Dark Lord himself, Ron could feel his old fears return to him as Voldemort walked slowly towards the middle of the room. He had in his hand a long an ancient whip that he handed to the masked wizard that stepped forward.

“Please…no…” He said weakly as he saw Bagman pull the whip far back. “NOOO!” Ron ran in the middle but the whip went through him. He saw the whip curl on Harry’s body ten times. “Harry!”

“CRABBE!”

“Harry…”

Again, the whip curled around Harry and every lash left long welts that slowly erupted. Ron charged the ranks of Death Eaters and swung his arms though he knew they would not feel a thing. Then he ran back to Harry and looked at him as he hung on that pillar screaming in pain.

“STOP! STOP!” Ron cried. “Why are you doing this to me!!”

Then the whole room disappeared and he found himself inside a cave.

“Harry?” Ron whispered.

“Are you sure we’re safe here?” Said a voice from within the cave. Ron followed the voice and found the first one that held the whip—LUDOVIC BAGMAN—and on his neck, Ron saw another necklace.

“You stay here, until we send word to you. Understand?” Bella instructed. She then left with four other who wore masks; Ludovic followed them eagerly, looking around to make sure that there was no one around.

Ron decided to walk outside and found a mark on a rock shaped like an obelisk. At first, the mark glowed green, a skeleton with snakes – the Dark Mark. Then it faded and only someone who had seen it burned there would know where it was. Ron ran out further to find out what mountain range this was—then he remembered something Professor Lupin told him several days ago.

“The Ministry has captured Goyle and Dolohov in a raid last night in Beulah.” Remus said.

“Brilliant!” Ron said. “How were they found?”

“Anonymous tip.” Tonks said. “Apparently they were on their way to the Cambrian Mountains to hide. The whole area is now swarming with Aurors and Hit wizards.”

“The Cambrian Mountains…”


Then the whole thing faded and he again found himself sitting on a chair in the kitchen with the half-eaten cheesecake on the table. He was shaking, and the spoon he held in his hand had been bent almost to a ball. The necklace had shown him where Bagman was—and Bagman was wearing a similar necklace.

“I can track them down with this…” Ron said, fingering the pendant that hung on his neck. He was certain this time, that someone was helping him with his quest, though he must endure watching how the Death Eaters tortured Harry before he was shown where they were, still it was better than groping in the dark.

Ron slowly stood and walked towards the room to tell Rio what had happened. On his way, he saw a little girl standing inside the long mirror looking at him with dark harrowing eyes.

“Hello, Ron.” She said, almost inaudibly.

Something was telling him to destroy the mirror but out of sheer, morbid curiosity, Ron did not. Instead, he decided to converse with the girl for she looked helpless inside that mirror.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I am the guardian of the necklace.” She answered.

“The guardian of the necklace?”

“Yes…” She hissed. Her voice though small and soft was chilling to hear--like it was filled with so much deceit.

“Where are you from?” Ron asked again.

“I’m from a world beyond your reach, I will guide you through your quest.” She explained.

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know…”

“The necklace will show all those that Ji asked you to kill!” She said.

“How do you know Ji?” Ron pressed.

“I am here to help you, Ron.” She answered. “Let me help you,”

A pang of doubt gripped him; the necklace had shown him what Bagman had done, and where he was now. The task that seemed impossible to accomplish was now so easy to finish with the help of this necklace. But Ron knew there had to be catch, there always was. Knowing this girl knew Ji- she who till this day had not told him the price he paid for the quest- was enough to make Ron doubt her motives.

“Why are you helping me? What’s in it for you?” Ron said.

The girl smiled at him and her grin almost compelled him to run. “Do not be afraid, Defender. What I will ask will not be difficult to give. But I will give you time to finish your quest half-way before I ask for something…you do give rewards to those who serve you?”

Her innocent inquiry almost reminiscent of Ginny, nearly made him smile back. “Yes, of course.”

“Very well. I shall return when you’ve recovered the next necklace.” She said then disappeared.