The Final Lesson
by Jardyn39
Chapter 12 - Ron Returns
Ron wasn't seen by anyone for over a week. Each day Fred and George reported that he hadn't turned up for work again and each day they grew more worried about him.
Then an excited Mrs Weasley contacted them to say that Ron had been in touch and had said he would come to Sunday dinner, but wouldn't arrive back until the evening.
Relieved that Ron had contacted someone at last, Harry decided to tidy up his room before getting ready for the evening. Since he had asked Kreacher to look after his things while Dobby was away visiting Hogwarts, his room looked like a tip.
Aunt Petunia's regime of manic housecleaning throughout Grimmauld Place stopped precisely at Harry's door. She never ventured inside.
Harry began by clearing the floor and piled the clothes into a laundry bag.
He had filled about half of the bag when something occurred to him.
"What on earth?" he muttered, examining a pair of jeans. "Kreacher, what have you been up to?"
There was a pop behind him, and Kreacher said, "Master called?"
Harry started. He had barely spoken aloud.
"I'm sorry, Kreacher. I didn't mean to call you, but I was a little curious about all these clothes."
"Master is curious," agreed Kreacher, jumping up to sit on Harry's bed.
"Why are these clothes all over the floor?"
"Master left them there."
"No. I mean, yes, I may have dropped one or two items on the floor," said Harry.
"One or two? Ah, yes. Master has trouble counting higher than two!"
"Alright, Kreacher. Okay, I dropped all of them onto the floor."
"Would Master like Kreacher to count them for him?"
"No, Kreacher, but I would really like to know why these have been cleaned but not laundered and put away!"
"All of Master's laundry has been laundered. It was cleaned, dried, ironed and then arranged for Master."
"By arranged, you mean thrown all over the floor again, don't you?"
"No. Kreacher did not throw them all over the floor!"
"I'm sorry, Kreacher. What did happen to the clothes then?"
"Kreacher arranged the clothes in exactly the way Master likes. Master must like his clothes that way or he wouldn't keep throwing them about the place."
Harry sighed.
"Would it have killed you to just ask me to put my dirty clothes in the laundry basket?"
"Kreacher thinks not, but Master would not have been half as entertaining looking for his socks."
"Well, just as long as I'm entertaining you, Kreacher," Harry said sarcastically, "that's all that matters."
"Kreacher is glad Master agrees."
Harry grumbled something inaudible and gathered up some more clothes.
"Hey, Hermione got me this jumper. This shouldn't be left on the floor," he complained, attempting to fold it up neatly. "I don't suppose you know how to fold these things up properly?"
"Kreacher is a good house elf. Of course he knows how!"
Harry threw the distorted bundle down next to Kreacher on the bed but didn't wait for the elf not to help him. Instead, Harry headed for his chest of drawers hoping that there was at least one folded jumper left that he might copy from.
Harry pulled the top drawer open and looked inside.
Nestled amongst several socks, each carefully folded in non-matching pairs, was his Phoenix egg.
"What are you doing in there?"
Completely distracted, he picked it up and went back to his bed to sit next to Kreacher.
Harry held it up to the light. The golden egg had a patterned surface that seemed to dance and change depending on the direction of the light.
More than any of his gifts from Dumbledore, this precious egg seemed to evoke Harry's fondest memories of his old Headmaster.
"Will it sing again?" asked Kreacher. "It used to sing sometimes."
Harry shrugged sadly. He had been so worried and miserable about Ron lately, no wonder it hadn't sung.
There was a light tap on the door and then Hermione looked in.
She came in and sat on the bed close to Harry.
He held the egg up again and said sadly, "Kreacher was just saying how is doesn't sing anymore."
Hermione smiled warmly down at Kreacher but he jumped off the bed at once, never appreciative of Hermione's attempts to be nice to him.
"Kreacher has work to do. Master will want his newly cleaned robes all creased up for this evening."
There was a pop and the elf was gone.
Hermione looped one arm through Harry's and with her other hand fished out her own golden Phoenix egg from a deep pocket.
She held it up to his.
"I told you I would catch you up," she said.
Harry nodded, seeing that the eggs were now almost identical in size. The last time they had compared them, Hermione's egg had been a little smaller than his.
"Mine hasn't grown at all," said Harry.
"It has a little," said Hermione encouragingly.
Harry lowered his arm to his lap.
"You're worried about this evening, aren't you, Harry?"
"Of course I'm worried," he admitted in a whisper.
Hermione rested her head down on his shoulder.
"I do wish Kingsley would get in touch," he said, expressing the other thing that had been playing on his mind.
"He may not even know we need to speak to him. Mr Weasley warned it might take some time, as he couldn't use regular channels."
"Why would Kingsley sever his Order communications while he was working away from the Ministry?"
"He must be doing something really important. Mr Weasley assumed he was under cover somewhere, but don't think he really knew anything for certain."
They sat in silence for a long moment.
"I should go and get ready," said Hermione, not moving at all.
Harry smiled and said, "So should I."
He leaned back and Hermione squealed as he pulled her backwards with him until they lay on the bed, side by side. Finding her hand, he brought it up to his lips. Kissing first the back of her hand, and then the inside of her forearm, Harry proceeded up her arm.
"Harry, I," began Hermione.
"Shh," he warned gently. "Listen."
There were only the faintest sounds to be heard at first. Then Harry's egg began to sing.
*
A full house was waiting at the Burrow for Ron that Sunday evening. It was just after ten o'clock when he finally popped his head around the door.
"Ron!" cried Mrs Weasley and hugged him.
"Alright, Mum, calm down," he said gently.
"What time do you call this?" asked Fred. Hermione scowled at him.
"Yeah, Mum wouldn't even let us start eating until you arrived!" added George.
When she finally released him, Ron said, "Listen everybody. I'm really sorry. Not just for being so late tonight, either. I just needed to get away and sort a few things out in my mind. I know I should have got in touch before I did."
"Oh, but you're back now," said Mrs Weasley hugging her youngest son again. "That's the only thing that matters."
It occurred to Harry that she was probably considering putting a charm on him like the one that kept Percy at home.
"Can we eat now?" complained Fred. "Some of us have to be up early tomorrow."
The meal was quickly served and no mention at all was made of Ron's absence, a subject that Mrs Weasley had made it quite clear she wouldn't tolerate. Even the twins complied with her wishes in this respect. Mr Weasley remained good humoured if a little subdued during the meal.
Soon though, Fred and George left for their flat above the shop.
"See you tomorrow, bro," said Fred as they went.
"Bright and early," added George.
"Tomorrow?" complained Mrs Weasley. "After only getting back so late? No, he must have at least one day off."
Fred rolled his eyes and George asked, "So when can I have a day off, Mum?"
They kissed their mother goodnight and left.
"Thanks, Mum," said Ron quietly as she collected the dishes. Mr Weasley then went out to lock up the sheds.
"How are you?" asked Hermione now that the three of them were alone.
"I'm fine," replied Ron quietly.
"We were worried about you."
"I know."
"How are things really with Fred and George?"
Ron shrugged and said, "I'll cope for now, but to be honest I may look around for something else. There may be some better opportunities for me out there."
"We were hoping to talk to you," began Harry evenly, remembering Hermione's advice that they mustn't on any account upset Ron and make him want to leave again.
"Not tonight, you won't!" said Mrs Weasley as she breezed back into the room. "I know you three. Once you get talking half the night's gone. You'll have all day to talk tomorrow."
Ron smiled and nodded.
"I am a bit tired," he admitted. "How about a walk through the orchard in the morning? It's been ages since we did that."
"Sure," agreed Harry with a smile.
*
The next morning Harry came down early having had a particularly good night's sleep. He had been more tired than he'd realised, having lost sleep worrying about Ron.
He was pleased to hear the sound of laughter as he approached the kitchen.
Ron was laughing as Hermione described what had happened to her and Miss Alice when they arrived using one of Harry's now infamous Portkeys. It sounded like they had appeared several feet above the mattresses and had been dragged around the room a few laps before being bounced around rather more than desired.
Harry's smile faltered as he realised that Hermione had edited her story slightly, actually making no mention of Miss Alice at all. Then he remembered the serious conversation they were due to have with Ron that morning.
"Toast, Harry?"
"No thanks, I'm fine."
"Great," said Ron. "Let's go for that walk. Mum will have a cooked breakfast waiting for us when we get back, I'm sure."
"Will she?" asked an amused Mrs Weasley, coming in after feeding the chickens. "Morning, Harry, dear," she added as she passed through into the living room.
"Honestly," said Hermione, "how many breakfasts can you eat?"
The look on Harry's face said quite plainly that he thought the idea of a cooked breakfast after their walk was rather appealing too.
"Come on, let's go," said Ron, laughing.
"Hang on," said Hermione hurriedly, "I need to put my boots and scarf on. Oh, and where are my knitted gloves?"
Ron opened the door and stepped outside. Harry followed him out into the cold but refreshing morning air.
"Wait for me!"
"Well, hurry up then," called Ron with a smile, before proceeding to tell Harry about one of his delivery adventures while they waited just outside.
"I think it was a couple of weeks ago, now. Fred sent me over to Putney to collect some ever bouncing springs that some old wizard was selling cheap. I've no idea why they wanted the stupid things. Maybe they think there will be a demand once the Bouncing Bean season is over.
"The problem was that when I arrived I found he'd dropped an entire box full and they were causing havoc bouncing around his living room."
Harry smiled listening to the tale.
"I left him trying to tell some made up story to his neighbours to explain all the holes in his windows and brickwork. Still, I'm sure he sorted everything out in the end. Stupid Muggles'll believe anything, right?"
A cold shiver seemed to run through Harry as he found himself repeating, "Stupid Muggles?"
He turned to see, as expected, Hermione with a hurt and angry expression standing at the kitchen door. What he didn't expect was Ron's indifference.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Don't you dare ask what, Ron," said Hermione angrily, throwing her gloves to the ground.
Ron looked at her with concern but clearly had no idea what had upset her so.
"I think Hermione is referring to the Stupid Muggles reference."
"Oh, right," said Ron, shrugging.
Deciding that now was as good a time as any to get the truth out of Ron, Harry said, "Ron, this is one of the reasons we are so concerned about you."
"What are you talking about?"
"I've never heard you say anything like that before. Fred and George tried to warm me about some of the things you've been saying lately, but I didn't believe them. I even asked them to give you more responsibility."
"I didn't ask you to," said Ron a little defensively.
"I'm wondering where all this came from. Could it be the company you're keeping these days?"
"What company?"
"We saw you Ron and we followed. We both saw you enter Knockturn Alley."
"You had no right to follow me," said Ron, now with a little defiance.
"We were concerned about you. Why on earth did you meet Ollivander in Knockturn Alley?"
"Just because I went down Knockturn Alley it doesn't mean I met anyone down there."
"We both saw you Disapparate away with him."
"Look, Harry. I know you've got a bit of a thing about Ollivander lately."
"A bit of a thing?" shouted Harry angrily. "He kidnapped Hermione, remember?"
"I didn't see that."
"Strange, since you were the closest one there! Convenient for your pal, Ollivander, wasn't it?"
"You've got him all wrong, Harry."
"He's the one they call the Healer, Ron!" yelled Harry. "He cut up Jack Gurnet and Alison Weston!"
"There's no proof of that, Harry."
"So, what was he doing associating with Voldemort and the Death Eaters at that camp, then?"
Ron shuddered violently but fought to recover himself quickly.
"You thought he was a captive at the time, Harry. You even tried to rescue him, didn't you? He's got nothing to do with You-Know-Who."
"Really?" said Harry with a mocking laugh. "He looked like a guest of honour at the Archive!"
"No one else saw him there, Harry. Perhaps you were mistaken."
"Where have you been for the past week, Ron?" demanded Harry forcefully.
"None of your business."
"Any painful brands we should be careful to avoid?"
Ron's face distorted with anger and he pulled his fist back.
Hermione rushed between them and pushed Harry back.
"Stop this! Both of you!" she shouted. "Ron," she said, willing her voice to calm. "Ron," she repeated, now gently. "Tell us what Ollivander said to you."
Ron was still watching Harry, anger etched into his features.
"Ollivander obviously convinced you, so tell us. If you think he isn't on the dark side, tell us what he said. Help us to understand how you feel. Maybe we'll see that you're right."
Ron did not answer.
Hermione placed her hand on Ron's chest and asked gently, "Did Ollivander promise you anything, Ron?"
This final question appeared to touch a nerve.
Ron looked down at her for a long moment before returning a defiant glare at Harry.
Ron took a long step back away from Hermione.
"Have you any idea how demeaning it's been for me working for Fred and George? You wouldn't believe what I've had to put up with," he spat bitterly. "Those two did everything they could to keep me out of their precious shop, just because I didn't fawn all over them like those other idiots. All they want from a shop assistant is someone who keeps falling about with laughter at their stupid antics. Yes, Hermione, Ollivander did promise me something and he actually delivered."
"What did he promise, Ron?" asked Hermione timidly, clearly shaken by the bitterness in Ron's voice.
"All I wanted was a little money and a little respect. Ollivander convinced me I was wasting my time up to now. There are easier ways to get what I'm entitled to; take what I deserve. Why should I have to be subservient to anyone inferior."
"What do you want money for, Ron?"
"Only someone as rich as you could ask such a stupid question, Harry."
"I meant, why would you want money you hadn't earned?"
"Where's the respect going to come from, Ron?" asked Hermione.
"That seemed fairly obvious to me, actually. Even the Dark Lord shows respect to Ollivander. He's a very powerful wizard. He was more than a match for Dumbledore and the Dark Lord has been very careful not to provoke him."
Anger flared up in Harry.
"What have you done, Ron?" asked Hermione shakily.
"Ollivander has the right idea. He won't take sides until there is a clear winner. Mind you, that winner had better watch their back after that. Of course, things don't look too good for the Muggles and Mudbloods either way."
Ron turned and looked like he was about to continue when he froze.
Standing before him and looking apoplectic with rage was Mr Weasley.
"Get out of this house," he muttered angrily. "Do not ever return here while you hold such bigoted views."
From the open kitchen doorway came the sound of smashing china as Mrs Weasley fainted against the kitchen dresser.
Ron turned and looked fearfully at his stricken mother.
"LEAVE! NOW!" thundered his father.
Ron Disapparated away with a loud crack as Harry and Hermione rushed inside to tend to Mrs Weasley.
*
There was a light knock on the bedroom door.
"Come in, Hermione."
The door opened and Hermione asked, "How did you know it was me?"
"Well, no-one else knocks. Uncle Vernon still prefers to stay outside and shout."
Hermione closed the door and came over to him. Harry closed the book he hadn't been reading.
"I'm sorry," she said, sitting on the bed.
"There's no need," he said gently.
"I shouldn't have taken it out on you," said Hermione, looking down at her hands. "I threw you out on the pretence of wanting to do some work and I just ended up doing nothing."
Harry smiled sadly and said, "Yes, I've been able to think of nothing else myself."
"I called Mrs Weasley earlier. She's still putting on a brave front. I just wish she'd let rip. I felt just awful when they both told us they didn't blame us for Ron's behaviour."
Harry reached over and took her hand.
"The really awful thing is that I think I'm responsible," said Harry.
"Don't talk nonsense, Harry."
"No, it isn't Hermione. Ron only started going down Knockturn Alley since he started working for Fred and George."
"That's hardly," she began.
"I asked the twins to give Ron a job. I've even been paying for his wages."
"Gosh. I had no idea."
"I just wanted him to get a bit of independence. I knew he wasn't happy there, though. He complained that they didn't trust him and just gave him all the menial jobs."
"Harry, Ron wasn't asked to do anything that Fred or George didn't do themselves before he started."
"Before they had any staff, you mean?"
"No, Harry. George told me that for ages they have done all the jobs they didn't like to give their assistants. He said sometimes it was because the people they were buying from were a bit dodgy, but mostly it was because they didn't like to ask them to do anything too demeaning."
"Poor, Ron," said Harry.
"Not poor Ron, Harry. George said that Ron got all the choice jobs, the ones Fred and George used to really enjoy. Of course, they kept on doing them when Ron didn't bother to turn up. That was why they were so resentful of Ron. They felt Ron was just taking advantage of them and, I suppose, you."
"So what happened with him?"
"I don't know. I wonder if he really knows himself."
"I shouldn't have had a go at him. I knew you wanted to wait until we were alone before tackling Ron."
"Somehow, I doubt if we could have persuaded him, Harry. At least it's out in the open now."
"I keep thinking back on all the things Ron kept asking me over the last few weeks," said Harry. "All the stuff about the Secret Keeper."
"You're wondering if he was asked to find something out?"
Harry nodded and Hermione gave a great sigh.
"We must find him. I don't know how, but we must find him and persuade him to return before it's too late."
"Ron won't turn to the Death Eaters. I'm sure of it."
"Harry, what if Ollivander really is the Healer. He could well be just as bad an influence as Voldemort."
"True."
They were quiet for a long moment.
"I wonder if we know the whole thing. With Ron, I mean."
"How do you mean?"
"What if there was something more that was troubling him that we don't know?"
"I suppose there could be."
Harry related his memory of how Ron almost looked like he was going to curse him again after hitting him with the Rodium Hex.
"You did square things with him, didn't you?" asked Harry.
"Yes. We had a long talk and he got the message finally."
"So, you're sure he isn't just jealous?"
"We can't really be sure of anything right now, can we?"
Hermione shifted up and snuggled herself close to Harry.
"I should really let you revise," she said with a smile.
"Yes, but what can she do? She can hardly give me lines, can she?"
"You'll regret it, Harry," warned Hermione.