A/N: Again, unless obviously shown as thoughts, the stuff in italics is what Ron is witnessing, regular font is what is happening to him in present time.
This chapter was a hard one for me…it's much darker than anything I've tried before. I hope that I've explained things clearly enough to answer most of the questions any of you might have had.
I want to thank you tremendously for reading this story. I know that I've been lousy about responding to reviews of late. So many of you are readers who, thankfully, are so great about reviewing every story, and there is no way that I can thank you enough for that. Answering reviews has been difficult due to family commitments and the fact that my writing time is actually somewhat limited, so I like to actually write when the time is available [many of you can attest to the fact that my responses are not often limited to a simple thank you, but could, potentially, be posted as decent sized one-shots if put into story form]. Please note that I thank and appreciate each and every one of you. The fact that you choose to review means the world to me and I hope that you continue to do so in the future!
Thank you. I hope you enjoy this latest installment. I have one more chapter to go and it's almost complete.
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A Future Most Bleak
Ron closed his eyes and begged for sleep. Merciful sleep would take it all away and perhaps, if he had any luck left at all, he wouldn't awaken from it. If he didn't wake, everyone would be free to do what it was they wanted without having to worry about how poor Ron would feel about it. No more sympathy for the pathetic ickle Ronnikins, he thought in a moment of self-pity.
Begging for death? The thought struck him hard and for a moment he stopped to think about it. Is this what it's all about? When all is said and done, I do nothing more than lie here and beg for it all to end? I just wait and hope that sleep comes permanently?
"Shut up, Ron," he chastised. "That's just stupid."
"Oh, ho, ho," the dry, hollow laugh cut straight through to the center of Ron's bones leaving an unwelcome prickling sensation to linger in his spine. "Right smart of you, Weaslebee," his newest guest sneered. "Telling yourself to shut it like that. Shame when you don't even want to listen to yourself now, isn't it?"
Ron shook his head at the irony of it all. "Bloody hell, Malfoy," he said in exasperation. He raised his eyes to the heavens and to himself added, "This cannot be good."
"What's the matter, Weasel?" Draco drawled. "Not happy to see me?"
"Matter of fact, no." He looked up at Draco in mild amusement. "Think I ought to be?"
Draco put his hand over his heart. "Oh, I'm hurt!" he said dramatically. "You've no idea."
Ron stood and looked down at Malfoy's smug expression. "What're you doing here anyway?" he asked.
"Why, I'm here to show the future," Draco laughed. "The glorious future for which you, my friend, play such a large, significant part."
"If you show me the future, and I decide to change it, how glorious will it be then?"
"We all have our place in this world, Weasel," Draco replied. "Even the finest of specimens…" he put his hands on his lapel and raised an eyebrow as he stood up taller, "such as myself."
Ron rolled his eyes and laughed. "Specimen is certainly a much better word for you than human, I'll give you that."
Draco looked at him sharply then narrowed his eyes. "Still jealous, eh Weasley…after all this time? I must say, I'm quite flattered."
Ron dropped his eyes and stared quietly at the floor when a thought struck and he looked back at Draco with a look of faux grief. "You're here," he said simply.
"Quite astute," Draco cracked. "Not much gets past you, does it?"
Ron shook his head. "What I meant to say," he retorted, "is that you're here, with me, right now," he looked directly down into Draco's eyes and pointedly added, "the ghost of the future."
"I can assure you," Draco replied with a knowing scowl, "that you have not missed my death. In your time, this time right now, I am very much alive."
A malicious gleam sparkled in Ron's eyes. "Tell me your death goes something like this," he said, raising his hand in a sweeping arch, "Amazing Bouncing Ferret Loses Battle to Raging Hippogriff."
Draco pointed at Ron and released a patronizing `ha' sort of sound before curling his lip into his trademark scowl. "I believe it was more along the lines of, "Malfoy Heir Loses Life, Takes Six Weasleys With Him." He chuckled wryly and looked pointedly at Ron before adding, "Who Will Rid us of the Rest?"
"Okay, we're even," Ron mumbled.
"Time to go," Draco said with an authoritative air. "Not that it hasn't been…fun," he added drolly. He looked at Ron and held out his arm, which Ron looked at skeptically. "Scared Weasley?" he taunted.
"To touch you?" Ron quipped. "Yeah, a bit. Don't want any of that Malfoy slime getting on my hands. `fraid I might not get it off."
"It's not slime," Draco scoffed. "It's charisma. Malfoys exude it…by nature." He eyed Ron up and down and frowned. "Merlin knows you could use a bit of it."
Ron's eyes clouded over and he sat heavily on the bed. "I'm not sure I wanna see what you're gonna show me," he said quietly. "I'm not ready for this."
Draco took a tentative step forward and Ron looked up just as he pulled his hand back and collected himself. Draco cleared his throat, "Yes, well, ahem," he stammered in such an uncustomary fashion that Ron had to look up twice just to be sure it was still Draco in the room with him. "I don't think you will either," Draco said quickly. "But we need to go."
Ron reluctantly stood and placed his hand on Draco's arm with a loud sigh. "Let's get to it then," he said with all the confidence he could muster.
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It was cold, dark where they landed. Ron had to squint his eyes to see around him as only a minute trace of light filtered into their landing place.
"Where are we?" Ron asked, the fear in his voice now palpable.
"In the forest, just outside…"
A sudden scream pierced the darkness and Ron jumped away from Draco. "What was that?"
Ron could just make out the way that Draco's eyes darted back and forth as he tried to gauge the direction from which the scream came. "They usually come from over there," he said, pointing in the direction of their source of light. "That one sounded like it came from-"
"Over there," Ron said, gesturing to the right of where Draco had pointed only a moment ago.
"NO!" the same voice screamed. "This can't be! It can't!"
Ron narrowed his eyes in the direction of the screams and listened intently to the familiar strains of the voice…it was one he'd heard many times in his dreams over the past two years.
"It's not real! It's not!" the voice continued to scream. "Take me home! I wanna go home!" They heard a scuffling of feet as whoever was screaming began to run.
"Like the past and the present," Ron said quickly, "they can't hear or see us, right?"
Draco shook his head. "No one can see or hear you."
Without further thought, Ron took a step in the direction of the scream. He had to know if it was really who he thought it was or if his mind has begun to play tricks on him. He could hear Draco's footsteps following behind. "Your wand, Malfoy," Ron said brusquely, "light it."
Draco pulled out his wand and Ron heard the soft sound of "Lumos" being cast from behind him. Ahead of them were shadows of two people. One was hunched over and from the sounds of it, vomiting violently…Ron noted that the screaming had stopped.
"Who's there?" Ron called out as they approached.
"They can't hear you, Weaslebee, you stupid g…"
"Who's there?" A feminine voice called back.
Ron and Draco both stopped cold. The light at the tip of Draco's wand went out and once again darkness enveloped them.
Ron shook his head, sure that the voice who answered wasn't the same one he'd heard screaming. He prepared to reply when Draco put a hand up in the air to silence him then took a step forward. Quietly they moved together until they were close enough to just make out the shapes of the two women in the thicket. Through the filtered light Ron could just make out the outline of the one standing. "Luna?" he said in an incredulous whisper. "Luna, what're you…how…?" he stammered a little louder.
Luna looked from her partner to Ron to Draco and back to Ron, leaving Ron to wonder just how well she could see each of them…despite the surrounding darkness. "It's my job to show Lavender the future," she said simply. "She needed to understand the consequences of her actions. She needed to understand that selfishness often leads to suffering." She looked out and pointed toward the light. "Watch," she said to no one in particular.
Ron looked in the direction Luna pointed then cocked his head curiously as he walked toward the light.
A hitch in breathing, a deep sigh, and words murmured on a ragged breath…
He halted his steps to listen more closely. When he was sure he knew where it was coming from he began to move toward it.
The closer Ron got, the more the light began to stretch, bringing more and more of his surroundings into view. Although not overly bright, the more darkness he left behind the more he had to blink to try and readjust his sight.
A ragged breath…a soft, quiet sob…a whispered apology…
Ron continued to follow the sounds and was brought up short by the sight that met him. On the ground, her knees bent beneath her, her back arched in such a way that it made Ron unwittingly stretch his own back out, was a broken, disheveled Hermione Granger.
In her hands she held a single stone, the size of a Golden Snitch. Beneath her knees Ron could see a long, thin hole had been dug and then filled back in. Her hands were dirty, as if she'd used them to dig what Ron knew, somehow, was a grave that she sat upon. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled softly, her hands tightly grasping the small stone. "I should've been there. I could've saved you." She lay down upon the grave and closed her eyes. "Pull me through to you," she whispered. "You're powerful, strong…I know you can do it. Please," she quietly begged. "Please don't leave me here without you."
"Who…who's in there?" Ron asked, though in his heart he already knew … and he desperately feared the truth.
"Come on, Weaslebee, use your head. Who else would Granger mourn in such a way?"
Ron fell against the nearest tree with a single word on his lips, "Harry."
"You haven't seen anything yet," Draco said, pulling Ron to his feet. "Shall I tell you a bit about your precious little Mudblood?"
Ron opened his mouth to answer when a voice he recognized as his own cut through the momentary silence, rendering him speechless as he watched and listened.
"Let's go, Hermione," Ron said, holding his hand down for her take. "You know it's not possible."
Hermione crossed her arms over her body defensively. "Why did you do it?" she asked quietly. "Why am I cursed this way? Why can't I end it?" She placed a hand on Harry's grave and softly began to cry before looking back at Ron with haunted eyes. "Why do you still insist upon keeping me away from him?"
"Hermione, I'm not-" he sighed and sat beside her as though resigning himself to whatever may come.
"You are," she said, wiping a dirty hand across her face to dry her tears. "You are to blame for this." She sat up on Harry's grave and glared at Ron until he finally had no choice but to turn his eyes to hers. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked. "Me? Like this? A lifetime with Hermione Granger…"
Her eyes burned right through him.
Although he knew it to be physically impossible, the Ron of the present could feel the heat of her gaze as it seared through his future self.
"I loved you-" he began piteously although he was now certain that he never really had.
"I know all about it now, Ron," Hermione said, her voice low and dangerous.
"I know you do, Hermione," he sighed. "We've been through all this be…"
"All the wonderful, sordid little details," she continued as though he hadn't spoken. It was the first thing they relished in when they brought me here, you know? When Voldemort won and Harry was killed…it was the first thing they told me. They thought it important to share with me the reasons why Harry was no longer here. They shared the reasons why Harry never found love or that element within him that he needed to destroy Voldemort. Oh, you were praised that day, Ronald. I think they wanted to give you some sort of plaque to commemorate your idiocy, your vulnerability…your lack of pride and common sense. I know all about your argument with Lavender, the way she manipulated you, lied to you, tortured us all…and for what, Ron? So you could have the future you always wanted? So she could get me out of the way? To clear her path to Harry? Tell me, Ronald…FOR WHAT?!?" she ended with an angry shout.
"I don't know for what!" Ron shouted back. He lowered his head and took a deep, ragged breath. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I truly am. This isn't how I pictured it."
"Of course not," Hermione scoffed. "Who would? You pictured me, a nice little house, a picket fence, a dozen more Weasleys…" she shook her head in disgust. "What you didn't stop to realize is that the wrong woman was in the picture. You didn't take into account that the wrong man might be…" she shook her head once more, "that the man I loved was not the one sitting beside me."
"Hermione," Ron said, his voice rising in anger. "I believed that man to be me. Why shouldn't I have believed it? You know as well as I do that Lavender possesses the sight…she'd done far too many accurate predictions for me to discount what she told me that day. I thought we were destined to be! Why didn't you say something to him, then? Why didn't you tell Harry how you felt?"
Hermione dropped her head and sighed. "I've been asking myself that very same question. Over and over and over that question has haunted me…and all that I can come up with…the only explanation I can seem to find…is that I was scared. There was never any indication…I saw no signs. It would've destroyed us…" she shrugged and attempted a deep breath, "destroyed me, if he'd rejected me. I needed to be there for him…for you. I needed my head on straight and my heart protected. I thought there'd be time…" she dropped her head and her shoulders began to shake, "and then he was gone…and they told me the truth." She looked up at Ron with a wry smile. "Voldemort himself, you know…he told me how he siphoned Harry's thoughts that day. He told me about the longing in Harry's eyes when he looked at me. He told me how much Harry loved me and that had it not been for you, and Harry's commitment to your friendship, Harry would have been honest with me. He would've shared the truth with me…" she looked up with eyes that cut deeper into Ron's heart than anything ever had before, "…and he would have found the power to win."
Ron hadn't realized how hard his tears had begun to fall. The noises from the camp at the edge of the forest didn't register in his mind. Luna and Lavender standing beside him, their eyes filled with tears and their breathing loud amidst their whimpers, hadn't broken through the wall of despair that had erected itself around him. He watched himself and his best friend, the woman he thought he'd spend the rest of his life with, cry silent tears for the first real friend that either of them had ever had. Hermione brought them all together, but Harry was the glue that kept them that way…and as he looked down upon them, a stabbing pain pierced his heart and he fell to his knees, wailing for the gods to have mercy…willing the future to change.
Ron brushed aimlessly at the weight pressed against his arm. Whatever it was, he didn't care. None of it mattered, whatever it was…it simply wouldn't matter. The pressure increased and a soft, "Ronald," was spoken into his ear.
The sound of Luna's voice broke through Ron's wall and he turned his head up to look at her. He opened his mouth to speak when he caught movement from the corner of his eye and in an instant, he was on his feet. "This is your fault," he said in a dangerously low voice as he stalked slowly, deliberately, toward Lavender. "As much as it is mine…it is yours. More so in fact, Lavender. Are you proud? You wanted Harry-" a thought struck him then and he rounded on Draco. "Where is she? What's this gotten her?"
Lavender began to shake her head. "No!" she cried in a small, frightened voice. She grabbed hold of Luna's arm and begged her to take her home. "Please don't make me watch it again," she pleaded.
Ron raised an eyebrow and Draco nodded. "This way," he said, taking a step toward the camp. Ron took one final look at his and Hermione's future selves and whispered an apology for being the catalyst of such an awful fate, then turned to follow Draco, listening intently as Draco began to speak. "You and Lavender were lauded, to some degree, as heroes of the war when the Dark Lord prevailed. Potter's mind was said to be elsewhere, unable to fully focus on what he needed to do to win his battle with Lord Voldemort. In a final display of power, and according to the Dark Lord himself, Potter tried in vain to conjure an image of Granger that, had be been able to fully manifest it, might have given him the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Of course, no one can be sure of the accuracy of those claims because Potter now lies buried just beneath the surface of the grave you just saw."
They stepped around a large, concrete building that made Ron gag as they passed. "What is that smell?" he asked, fighting back his nausea.
"Bodies," Draco said matter-of-factly. "They are the ones not buried yet."
"They're burying the bodies?" Ron asked, nothing short of surprised that Voldemort and his followers would think to give them proper burial.
"It's a form of punishment to those who lived," Draco said simply. "The Dark Lord ordered the
destruction of all who showed a proclivity for wandless magic. All others have had their wands confiscated. Their
punishment for following Harry into battle is to dig the graves of the ones who did not survive. From morning to night,
their fingers scrape the earth until they've dug a hole big enough to bury yet another friend."
"That's despicable," Ron said through the bile that had once again risen in his throat.
Draco shrugged. "It's a punishment that you, Brown, and Granger have all managed to avoid." Draco looked at Ron's hands and scowled. "Have no fear, Weasel, those hands have not yet seen a day's hard labor."
Ron eyed him closely. The bitterness in Draco's voice seemed off somehow, very much misplaced. "Why is that?" he asked, genuinely confused. "And why're you so defensive? What difference is it of yours whether or not my hands have seen a day's labor?"
Draco stopped walking and closed his eyes, steadying his rising temper before answering Ron's questions. He looked up, the anger within barely disguised in his eyes. "The Dark Lord thought it best that the three of you be excluded. You see," Draco pointed off to their left and Ron's eyes followed, "Lavender has a much bigger role than that of gravedigger."
"I don't want to," she cried, pulling her arm in a feeble attempt to escape her aggressor.
"Ah, but you have no choice, do you?" the man leered.
"Let me go," she wrenched her arm from his grasp and tried to run away.
The man lunged for her, knocking her to the ground. "I love it when you're feisty like this," he groaned sensually as he pinned her to the ground. "You spent all that time thinking you were worthy of the Potter boy, it's now your life's mission to prove how worthy you are to those of us who actually lived. It could be worse, you know…you could be digging graves in which to bury your friends." The man sat up to unzip his pants. "Now get ready to do your job. If I'm not mistaken, there's someone else waiting in line."
This time Ron did turn to vomit, no longer able to fight against it. "That's…disgusting," he choked out when finally the retching stopped.
"That's her life," Draco said with little inflection. "You didn't expect it to be pretty, did you? They think they're doing her a favor by not forcing her dig graves because to them there is nothing worse than having to bury the followers of Harry Potter. They'd just as soon let them rot and be shredded by vultures…or any number of magical beasts."
"Is she there for…" Ron gulped, "everyone? I haven't, you know, um…have I?"
Draco let go with his first genuine laugh since he'd appeared in Ron's room. "Oh no, Weaslebee," he said with mock reassurance. "That one's off limits to you."
Ron felt his body relax and the tension in his shoulders begin to dissipate. "That's good," he mumbled under his breath. "That's good."
"Don't you even want to know why?" Draco asked with a seemingly innocent expression…one that didn't fool Ron for an instant.
"I don't think so," he said, taking a step forward. "I think there are likely to be loads of things I don't want to know the truth behind."
"Oh, but I've been so longing to tell you," Draco taunted. "You can't take away all the fun, Weasley."
"What is it? I'm not good enough for her because I'm Harry Potter's best friend?" Ron asked, exasperated by the entirety of the events that had occurred that night.
Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, that's not it," he said pensively, "but that's a damn good reason, isn't it?" He took his time, looking as though he was contemplating whether or not he wanted to share the truth with Ron after all. "Let me explain your punishment, shall I?"
Ron vaguely gestured for Draco to continue. "By all means," he said morosely. "Carry on."
"You see, Weaslebee, it goes something like this. Lavender sets you up, you spend years waiting for Granger to proclaim her undying love for you…rather than confront the issue head-on and avoid the misery of the past two years altogether." Draco grinned. "Although, I must admit that seeing how unhappy the three of you were was a bit more on the enjoyable side than I might've cared to admit."
"Get on with it," Ron said impatiently.
"Fine, fine," Draco replied, gesturing in a dismissive sort of way. "Straight to the chase, shall we?" Ron nodded and Draco began again. "You wanted Granger so now you have her," he stated matter-of-factly.
Ron thought back to the Hermione he'd seen on Harry's grave and looked at Draco questioningly.
Draco put up his hand, "Ah, but you see? That's the beauty of it," he laughed. "You've got Granger, you've got everything you thought you always wanted, the only problem is…she wants to be with a dead man."
Ron opened his mouth and Draco shook his finger to indicate he wasn't quite finished yet. "Granger's punishment is you. You see, the Dark Lord thought it might be ironic to give you what you want only to not really have it, you see. Do you remember when Snape told us he could put a stopper in death?"
Ron nodded vaguely but did not speak.
"Well, apparently there is a spell that will keep yourself and Granger alive indefinitely. As such, Granger is forced to spend an eternity mourning the loss of Potter and having to daily face the man responsible for his death. You, Weasley, are forced to spend an eternity watching your beloved fall deeper and deeper into a maddened state that would have most folks locked in a padded cell quicker than you can say Slytherin. You cannot kill each other, and yet you cannot turn away from each other, either. Granger will not allow you to touch her, you are left with only a shell of who she was. You cannot touch another without inflicting such an excruciating pain upon yourself that you can do nothing but lie upon the floor and pray for death."
"What kind of monsters are you?" Ron asked rounding on Draco angrily. "Why Hermione? Why can't I just let her go?"
"Because you couldn't let her go when you had the chance," Draco replied, his voice light, casual. "You had to have her, you had to keep her from Potter, she was a piece of property to you…something you had that Potter never could."
"But I never had her," Ron countered. "She was never mine."
"Ah," Draco replied, nodding his head amiably. "Therein lies the genius of the plan. She was never yours, and yet you still couldn't fathom the thought of letting her go. Despite the fact that somewhere in that thick head of yours, you knew you'd never have her, you refused to step down and risk being replaced by the one person you've always been most envious of…the one person you always felt got what you wanted…"
"Harry," Ron said, finishing Draco's sentence.
"As for why they won't let her go," Draco shrugged and raised his hands. "Isn't it obvious? She was Potter's love…don't you think that's enough of a reason to make her stay? She was Potter's greatest supporter…the one who saved his life on countless occasions. Keeping her alive and making her suffer brings them pleasure because they know that not only is it tearing the both of you apart, it's tearing Potter apart from whatever plane of existence he now resides on. What better vengeance is there for a Dark Lord hell bent on domination?"
Ron couldn't stand to hear anymore, there was nothing he could do to change the course of what was happening in this version of the future and he couldn't bear to listen any longer. "So why are we not digging graves?" he asked, still wanting answers, but needing to get the conversation away from his so-called `life' with Hermione.
"Because grave digging will take away from the misery you feel by having nothing else to occupy your mind but thoughts of Granger…just as she will not dig because it will borrow time from her mourning of Potter's death. The Dark Lord insists that you continue to spiral downward. He wants no chance for you to change the fate he has deemed for you."
"Tell me," Ron started slowly. "Did Hermione dig Harry's grave? Did she bury her fingers into the ground and dig his grave?"
"By herself," Draco nodded. "She wouldn't accept your help. Said it was her punishment, although I quite think she might've thought of it a bit differently seeing as how she didn't seem to mind doing it."
Ron closed his eyes and fought back the stinging tears. "What more is there?" he asked reluctantly. "Just get it over with."
"Let's walk," Draco said, stepping forward. "There's more for you to see."
Ron followed along in relative silence until he heard a soft scrape, scrape, scraping sound coming from just ahead. He stopped and turned around to walk back the other way. "I don't want to see it," he said, the tears beginning to trail down his cheeks and chin. "I don't want to look."
Draco grabbed hold of Ron's arm and dragged him toward the sound. No more than twenty paces later they were standing at the corner of a building and the scraping noise had risen tenfold. "Look," Draco said, raising his wand and silently casting a spell that jerked Ron's head up involuntarily.
Ron gasped at what he saw. Rows and rows of people he knew, people he loved, were on their knees digging into the earth with their raw and bloodied fingers. Holes varied in size, depending on who was digging…and, Ron guessed, who they were digging for. He saw Ginny, Neville, two of his brothers, and even his mum pulling handfuls of dirt from the ground.
"Don't stop, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley softly encouraged. "You don't want to draw attention to yourself. You know what happens when you do."
"What is this?" a voice boomed. Suddenly a darkened figure stood above Molly Weasley. "There's no talking during the digging!" Without hesitation he raised his wand, "CRUCIO!" he shouted with a laugh.
Molly screamed from her place on the ground as she writhed in pain.
Ron put his hands over his ears and ran to her, falling down beside her and apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, mum," he cried. "I'm so sorry."
Draco appeared beside him. "She can't…hear you," he said, his voice cracking slightly.
"I don't care," Ron shouted, his attention turned directly back to his mother who was still screaming in agony.
As quickly as her cries began, they stopped and Ron looked up sharply.
"Now get back to work!" the man yelled when he ended the curse. He looked around at the lot of them. "All of you…get back to work!"
Ron looked all around…his eyes landing on a particularly blonde head digging his fingers diligently into the ground as though nothing had happened. Ron stepped toward the figure in disbelief. "Malfoy?" he whispered incredulously.
He turned to look at the man who had brought him here. The man whom he'd detested since they met as boys so many years ago.
"I was a traitor," Draco said quietly. "I betrayed my father, my family, all that I'd grown up believing…" he looked around him in disgust. "And all for this." He looked up at Ron. "And all of this because of you. Forgive me if I don't say thank you."
Ron opened his mouth only to have it close again with no sound having escaped.
"You!" the man who had cursed Molly yelled.
All eyes looked up from what they were doing and he pointed a finger at Draco. "Malfoy, boy, come here!"
Draco rose silently and with a determined expression he approached the man fearlessly. "Yes?" he said, speaking firmly.
"Your father wishes to see you."
Draco turned to walk back to where he'd come from. "Tell him I'm not interested," he said without looking back.
"Draco!" The sound of Lucius Malfoy's voice sent chills up Ron's spine and he spun around to face the man.
"I'm busy now, father," he said, mockingly dragging out the last word.
"You'll come when I call you boy!" Lucius said dangerously. "I'll not have you bring further disgrace to this family by showing me such blatant disrespect."
Draco looked up from where he was digging and glared directly into his father's eyes. "Then leave, father," he said defiantly. "Leave and you'll not have to witness it."
Lucius raised his wand and pointed it at his only son. "I'll see you in hell, boy," he snarled viciously. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
In a flash of green light Draco Malfoy flew backward, landing on his back, his eyes opened to death, and his trademark smirk clearly evident on his face.
Ron looked on in horror. It took a moment for the sight before him to sink into his conscious mind. "Malfoy, what-"
"Make of that what you will," Draco said, grabbing hold of Ron's arm and disapparating from the scene.
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Ron awoke in his bed. He kicked at the covers that bound him and glanced wildly about his room, wondering how he'd gotten there and if the events of the night had been real. He jumped from his bed and wrenched open his bedroom door.
"Please don't let me be too late," he quietly pleaded to whatever deity might be listening.
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