What Ron Did-Part 1/6--R--(for wave two)
Title: What Ron Did
Author: Flaminia Grisandole
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 14, 325 total
Rating: R--for language, sexual references and wanking...
Written for wave two of the Third hprwfqf
POST-WAR: 12. In the last moment, it was Ron who defeated Voldemort, but the world won't believe it no matter what Harry says. Harry figures it'll be impossible for him to act on his new-found feelings in this situation.
Thanks to my two wonderful beta's for the quick and thorough job. You both Rock!
sabine91175 and
mr_yer_on_fire
What Ron Did--Part One
Ron, Hermione and I spent months searching and destroying Horcruxes. As we were in the process of slicing Nagini cleanly in half, the bloody snake took her last breath and bit Hermione. So she stayed behind while Ron and I went on to destroy the last remaining part of Voldemort’s soul-still encased in the snake-like body of Tom Riddle.
Weakened from the lack of Horcruxes, the spell my best mates helped me perfect worked, quite literally, like a charm.
It was finally over. The Dark Lord, as well as his followers, would cometh no more.
Only I did not perform the spell.
Ron did.
Yet no one believed it.
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With a pride shining like no other, I reported every detail to the Order. To the Ministry. Even to the different Healers that popped in to check Ron and my stats. My story never changed. Only my frustration grew as one person after another patted my back and insisted I needed a good rest. Then I could tell them what really happened.
What upset me the most was that even the Weasleys and Hermione looked at me doubtfully.
Because there was evidence that proved my story incorrect.
And the fact that Ron claimed not to remember most of what happened.
Pure rubbish.
However, I know what really happened.
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After leaving Hermione tucked safely in St. Mungo’s to recover, we joined the Order at their camp (after much arguing with Remus and Tonks about allowing us to become involved.) where they staked out potential Death Eater and Dark Lord sightings.
Old Tom had been very scarce while his Horcruxes were destroyed. So when my scar began to itch and burn, Ron and I snuck out of the Order’s camp. I figured this was my chance to get him before he got me. And Ron refused to let me go alone.
Prophecy be damned, he had said.
I should have known it would be a trap. Or maybe I did know, yet thought I was ready for it.
Whatever the case, we had barely stepped out of the camp’s protective wards when we were surrounded and disarmed by several well-known, un-masked Death Eaters.
Before we could even make a run for it, Bellatrix Lestrange and Nott Sr. caught me as Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr. caught Ron. Lucius Malfoy appeared, his long silver-blond hair tied back in a stupid black bow. When he spotted Ron’s wand laying a few feet away, he immediately picked it up, studying it for a long moment. No one seemed particularly interested in my wand, wherever it had landed.
Malfoy Sr. strode over to Ron, spouting insults and flicked Ron cruelly on the nose with his own wand. Ron stood still in Crabbe and Goyle’s tight grip and glared evenly at the blond Death Eater.
Before I could utter a word, Bellatrix pressed her cold fingers over my mouth; her talon-long nails digging into my cheek. I struggled to free myself and received a punch in the gut from Nott, temporarily knocking the breath out of me.
“You really are a disgrace to the name of wizard, Weasley,” Malfoy crooned in that smooth Slytherin way, “It really will be doing the world a favor to kill you.”
With all my might I pushed against my captors’ hold. I tried biting the fingers covering my mouth, but the witch was impervious to pain. Her grip only got firmer.
“Tsk, Tsk. Such a shame to lose yet another breeder for the Purebloods.” Malfoy shrugged. “Oh, well.”
Ron hocked a large glob of spit right in the wealthy prat’s face.
Malfoy blinked and carelessly wiped his face. He smirked and brandished Ron’s wand across its owner’s face. “You’ll not be needing this anymore,” he clutched the wand hard in his hand and it crumbled into pieces.
I lunged forward as Malfoy tossed the pieces over his shoulder with a cool grin plastered on his pale face. Nott twisted my arms back. Bellatrix stomped on my foot and elbowed me again in the gut. I tried my best to hold back a wince.
The Senior Malfoy laughed. Then he ran a fist right into Ron’s face. Then his stomach. Just as he brought his fist back to hit Ron again, the Pop of Apparition sounded.
“Lucius, there are much easier ways to cause pain,” Voldemort hissed from behind the blond Slytherin. “Crucio!”
Lucius stepped aside, chuckling as he watched Ron writhe and twist in pain. Crabbe and Goyle still held him tight, not allowing him to fall to the ground, no matter how much his body seized.
I cried out against Bellatrix’s cold fingers and tried again to push my way free. Bellatrix cackled and snarled in my ear, “Foolish boy, you think you can beat us?” My stomach clenched and my heart crept up into my throat.
Finally Ron stopped writhing and went limp in his captors’ grip. His head hung down, red hair falling in dirty strands against his cheeks.
I blinked back my tears. I would not show them any weakness.
Voldemort turned to me, an amused look in his red-slit eyes. I stopped struggling for a moment and met his stare.
He cocked his head and said in a tone that sounded much like his memory in the Chamber, “What would you say, if we let you speak? Would you beg us to let him go? To take you instead? Ah! What a noble gesture. Noble, yet stupid.” In one long step he stood close to Ron. He grabbed a handful of red hair and pulled Ron’s head back to study the placid face. “Because we all know that watching him die will be worse than your own death.” He dropped Ron’s head carelessly to let it hang limply again.
I closed my eyes to gather my strength before lunging forward again.
“Enough!” Malfoy flashed his wand at me and instantly my arms and legs were locked in a full body bind.
Voldemort stepped close to me and I could not even turn my face away from his rancid breath.
“See, I know your secret, boy. The secret you hid so well, even from yourself.”
I tried my best not to blink at his words.
“The thing you would miss the most,” The self-proclaimed Dark Lord never took his eyes off me as he aimed his wand at Ron’s head.
All I could do was watch with wide eyes.
“Avad…”
“Conligere Ultimus Animatium,” Ron’s head snapped up and Crabbe and Goyle were thrown away from him.
My best mate’s hands raised up slowly and pointed palms out at Voldemort’s chest.
“Conligere Ultimus Animatium!” A bright violet-colored light burst forth from Ron’s palms and hit our adversary square in the chest, forcing him back away from me. At the same time, Bellatrix and Nott took a step backward, pulling me with them.
As the light pushed at his chest, Voldemort’s hand began to shake. His wand dropped to the ground. Crabbe and Goyle lay unconscious a bit behind where Ron stood. Malfoy made a move towards Ron, but was thrown away landing flat on his back.
“CONLIGERE. ULTIMUS. ANIMATIUM!” The light began to spread, burning a hole through Voldemort’s chest. Again I was reminded of the Tom Riddle I faced in the Chamber.
The light grew and brightened to the point that I had to shut my eyes.
I felt a tingle go through my body and realized I could move again just as the hold on me loosened. Unable to catch my balance, or open my eyes to the brightness, I pitched forward heavily. I landed face first in the dirt and gasping for breath.
Once I caught my breath, I lifted my head, only to have to bury it under my arms as a vibrant burst of light engulfed everything around me.
“Finite Incantatem,” I heard said softly. Cautiously I raised my head.
Ron stood with his arms limp at his sides, staring at the spot Voldemort once stood. There was nothing left except a few scorch marks in the grass.
Nott and Bellatrix lay flat on their backs, one hand clutching their forearm, unmoving. Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy also laid unmoving, in the place they landed when thrown away from Ron.
Ron bent and picked up Tom Riddle’s wand. Instantly it turned to ash in his hand.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured, shaking his ginger hair out of his face.
He wiped his hand on his trousers, took a step over to Malfoy and kicked the still Death Eater hard in the stomach. Then he turned to me.
“Ron…” I said. When did I get so weak?
“Harry!” he hurried over to me, and helped me sit up. He adjusted my glasses and wiped dirt from my face. I gripped the front of his shirt. “You alright?” he asked, studying me.
I nodded. “You?” He nodded. “That was brilliant, Ron,” I added softly.
All his confidence seemed to drain away and he frowned, “I’m sorry, Harry…”
“No! Don’t be,” I pulled him closer. “Ron, I…”
Several Cracks of Apparition could be heard around us. Startled, I looked around just before I was pried away from Ron.
“Harry! You did it! You really did it!” Remus pulled me to my feet and into a rough hug. I had to keep my hold on him because my legs were wobbly.
“It was Ron,” I muttered.
“What? Oh no, Ron’s right here, Tonk has got him,” Remus said.
“Wotcher, Harry,” I looked over and was horrified to see Ron limp in Tonks arms. “Poor bloke seems to have passed out. We better get you two to St. Mungo’s.”
Before I could say anything more, Remus Apparated us to the wizard hospital.
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Ron claimed to not remember anything after the Crucio.
Hermione and Remus insisted that it would have been impossible for Ron to perform the spell without a wand.
The spell, almost literally meant ‘to collect the last of the soul.’ The one we used for most of the Horcruxes (after breaking their curses) was quite similar. The object would be drained of the soul and collected into the Caster’s wand to be disposed of later.
My wand tested positive.
According to Remus, not only did my wand contain the last piece of Tom Riddle’s soul, my fingerprints were the only ones on it.
Therefore, the Order and the Ministry had made up their own version of what had happened. In their reports, and the ones printed in the paper, I summoned my wand and performed the spell just before the hex was cast on Ron.
It doesn’t prove a thing. I saw it with my own spectacled eyes.
And that was the story I was sticking to.
So when the interviewer came from the Prophet, I granted him an interview. I told him every little detail. Although he looked doubtful, I saw to it he wrote it down just as I said it.
That should show them.