Pride

Ron lay in his bed, staring at his ceiling. It was late at night, and it was quiet. He was alone. 

Harry was at St. Mungo’s. He had inhaled some water, causing his lungs to swell and making it harder for him to breathe. This was exacerbated by the hypothermia from being in extreme cold for so long. Ron went to see him every day.

They had both been taken to the magical hospital in Cairo—his mum kept talking about how glad she was they had paid extra for apparition licenses—but Ron had been discharged in about an hour. Harry was there for one night, then another, then when he was stable he was transferred to St. Mungo’s. Their holiday came to an abrupt end.

Now, Scabbers was asleep in a pile of old clothes nearby. Charlie had done the best he could with the old rat, and rats were natural swimmers so he'd made it out too, but Ron feared this was it for Scabbers. When Scabbers was awake he made wet, gurgling noises, and he had been reluctant to eat or drink. 

Ron blamed himself. If Scabbers died, it was his fault. He never should have brought him along, and now Scabbers was suffering. If he knew more magic, if he was better at magic, if he had been more careful, stronger, smarter…

He angrily brushed his tears away and sat up. It was late enough to be considered morning despite how dark it was. Harry would finally be getting released from St. Mungo’s later that day. The healers told them it was just a normal muggle illness, but Ron knew there was nothing normal about the water they had been in. 

The curse-breakers had been both excited and disturbed by what Ron had told them. They thought it was some elaborate, magical metaphor for one’s journey into the underworld, the Ancient Egyptian conception of death. Why someone had created it, they didn’t know. From what Bill had said, the curse-breakers hadn’t yet managed to replicate the conditions that opened up the tomb to Ron and Harry, but hearing about the rooms they had seen, and the possibility of the buried pyramid containing more, had galvanized them.

Death itself was still a great mystery. No one was sure what happened. The concept of an afterlife sounded far-fetched to Ron. He remembered what Nicolas Flamel had said, that death was the cessation of life. One was nothing before birth, and returned to nothing after death. 

Unable to sleep, Ron got out of bed and quietly made his way downstairs and to the kitchen. He had his wand with him—he didn’t feel safe without it—and prodded the stove to life, putting a kettle on to boil 

They weren’t supposed to have brought their wands on the trip, and were really not supposed to have used them. Ron thought it was a stupid rule, and after she chastised him even his mum had admitted it was a good thing they'd had them. 

Ron understood why underage magic was illegal. Kids could be reckless and irresponsible. Most struggled to control their magic even after a year or two at Hogwarts. They were supposed to have adult witches and wizards to look after them. 

But things happened. A kid could do accidental magic around muggles, or get lost, or kidnapped. A dangerous magical creature could show up, you could get separated from your family, you could get trapped in a tomb. There were exceptions, he knew, for when your life was in danger.

They hadn’t got in trouble for any of the spells they had used—the Egyptian Ministry hadn’t even picked it up as underage magic with so many adults around, and they didn’t track anyone with the Trace as they did in Britain. Percy had explained what system was used in Egypt, but Ron had been too tired and too shaken by his ordeal to pay attention.

No one blamed them for what had happened, but it didn’t stop Ron from feeling guilty. His family had been extremely distressed by Ron and Harry’s disappearance. Harry felt worse than Ron about what they had put everyone through. No matter how many times he was told it wasn’t his fault, Harry didn’t believe it. In his mind, he had ruined their entire holiday. No one felt that way at all, but Harry couldn’t be convinced. He had even offered to pay them back, and to move back to the Dursleys, which resulted in Ron’s mum actually yelling at him for being ridiculous. That shocked Harry enough that he stopped trying to take the blame for everything.

Ron told himself that it could have been worse. Much, much worse. They could have really died. 

The healer told them after Harry recovered from his lung infection he would be good as new. And Harry was allowed to see his mother, albeit from a safe distance. They hadn't been seriously hurt. They were fine.

When the tea was ready, Ron sat at the table and stared at it. He missed Harry. He was used to being around him all the time, and even though they visited him at St. Mungo’s every day, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t know how Harry could stand his mother being a permanent resident. There had been talks about moving her into the Burrow, but Lily needed full time care. Ron had overheard his parents once, discussing whether it was even a good idea for Harry to see her like that on a daily basis.

Ron drank his tea before it got cold. He could imagine what his mum would say if he let it go to waste. Once he was done, he laid his head on the table and closed his eyes.

Harry would be home in a few short hours. In just over a week they’d be back at Hogwarts. They could forget about the bad things that happened over the summer, and remember that most of it had been fun. There wouldn’t be angry ghosts or cursed tombs or sick mothers. They’d just be students in a magical castle, the outside world a distant memory.

Summer ended in a small tragedy. The morning before the train was scheduled to leave, Scabbers died in his sleep. 

Ron had been the one to find him. During the night, his last act on earth, Scabbers had crawled out of the nest Ron had built him and went under his bed. Ron and Harry had torn apart his room looking for the rat, ultimately finding him curled up on a forgotten sock in a dark corner, cold and unmoving.

Ron was heartbroken. He had suspected Scabbers’ life was coming to an end for a long time, but it still felt so sudden. Harry found an old box to put Scabbers’ body in, and Ron carried him downstairs. He didn’t want anyone to see him crying, so he kept scrubbing away the tears that threatened to fall. 

His mum rushed over when she saw them enter the kitchen.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, wrapping him in a hug. “I’m so sorry. Dobby, be a dear and finish up would you?”

“Yes, Mrs. Molly!”

She put her arm around Ron’s shoulder, steering him out of the kitchen. “We have a spot in the garden where he can rest.”

Ron’s mum led their little procession through the back garden, to a small, overgrown corner where the Weasley family pets had been buried. His parents’ owl, the one they had before Errol. A pair of goldfish that had been Fred and George’s. Charlie’s old stray cat, Patches. A frog Bill had caught in the pond. And now Scabbers.

“Let me see,” his mum said, using magic to carve out a tiny grave.

Ron laid Scabbers’ body inside, then covered him up with dirt. Harry had picked a few flowers along the way and set them down on top. Ron’s mum conjured a headstone and planted it in the ground. Ron got a little shock when he read it.

“Scabbers the fourth?”

“Oh,” his mum said, looking abashed. “We didn’t tell you?”

Ron was still talking about it when they went to Diagon Alley that afternoon.

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell me!”

Ron had the impression his parents had been keeping something else from them, something bigger than Scabbers having been Scabbers IV. His dad kept hiding the Daily Prophet in his robes when it was delivered and running off to work before anyone could ask him questions. They hadn’t got the Prophet at all while in Egypt. Ron was certain something momentous had happened during their holiday.

“I think it’s something a lot of parents do,” Harry said as they walked into Magical Menagerie. It had been gently suggested that he choose another pet, but Ron didn't know if he was ready for that. Scabbers had just died. When Scabbers I, II, and III had died, Percy had been too young to notice the replacement rats. Scabbers and his namesakes were all brown rats, and they all looked pretty similar, or at least similar enough to be substituted. They had decided Ron was old enough to not need that subterfuge. 

“They did the goldfish too!” Ron said. “Fred and George never noticed!”

“I think that was the point,” Harry said as they walked around a store filled with squalling animals. Normally Ron would be interested in looking around, but it was cramped and dusty and loud. They checked out the snakes, who were all hiding, asleep, or both. There was a certain advantage in getting a snake, since Harry could talk to them, but after seeing that massive painting of one in the tomb they had been trapped in, not to mention their experience with the basilisk, Ron wasn’t very keen on them.

Jeweled tortoises, transforming rabbits, poisonous frogs, aquatic snails, squawking birds…none of them held any appeal. On the front counter he saw a cage with fancy black rats playing jump rope with their tails. He felt a pang of sadness. Scabbers would never play jump rope again. Not that he ever did, but he could have.

“Let’s just go,” Ron said. It had been a mistake, going to a pet store. It only made him more depressed.

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking around. “I don’t think I’d want another owl if Hedwig—”

“Ah!”

The rest of Harry’s sentence was cut off as something attacked Ron.

“Crookshanks, no!” the witch at the counter shouted. Ron barely heard her, too busy wrestling with the massive beast attached to his head.

“Ron, calm down!” Harry shouted. Ron couldn’t see anything. The creature’s bottom half was pressed into his face. He was being smothered by some huge fluffy thing that was also scrambling for purchase.

Finally, his attacker was removed, leaving Ron surprisingly unscathed.

“What the bloody hell is that thing?” Ron demanded, glaring at the animal now secured in Harry’s arms.

“It’s a cat,” Harry said. 

The cat, if that’s what it truly was, rumbled loudly. It was the biggest cat Ron had ever seen, with thick orange fur that fluffed out, a sort of squashed face, and a poofy tail that was currently slapping Harry’s glasses off.

“Sorry about that,” the witch behind the counter said, hurrying over to take the cat back. “He’s Crookshanks. Been here for a while, poor thing. People keep returning him for some reason.”

“He’s a menace,” Ron said, watching as Crookshanks twisted out of the witch’s arms and fell to the floor. The cat strolled back to him, and Ron noticed that he had an odd, swaying walk, as if he had bad hips, or had his legs broken at some point. He was a little wall-eyed too, so it was hard to tell where his dark yellow eyes were looking. Frowning, Ron reached down to scratch Crookshanks’ ears and was rewarded with a purr like an engine revving up.

Harry crouched down to pet the cat’s back.

“Looks like he’s taken a liking to you boys,” the witch said, smiling triumphantly down at them. “He’s free to a good home. Mostly takes care of himself, quite smart. He gets out of any cage we put him in. Bit up in the years, but he’s part kneazle so he’s got quite a few ahead of him.”

“He matches you,” Harry said, lightly touching Ron’s hair.

Blushing, Ron looked down at the cat, who was now sitting on his foot.

“He’s already adopted you,” the witch said. “Tell you what, I can give you a discount on a carrier if you’re able to take him.”

Ron thought it over, bending down to pick the heavy cat up. Crookshanks was still purring, which made him feel a little bit better.

“Alright,” Ron finally said. “I’ll take him.”

That night after dinner, when the packing was done and Crookshanks was let in after exploring the garden, Harry was pulled aside by Ron’s parents to have a hushed conversation in the kitchen. Worried, Ron carried Crookshanks up to their room and sat on his bed, petting the sleepy cat while he waited.

After some time, Harry walked into their room looking shaken. He dropped heavily onto his bed, staring at the floor.

“What is it?” Ron asked, fingers sinking into Crookshanks’ fur.

Harry jerked his head up. He looked awful. His normally bright eyes were flat and red-rimmed. His warm brown skin had a sickly cast, and his hands were gripping his trousers.

Harry swallowed. “The man who’s escaped from Azkaban. He’s…”

Ron leaned in attentively. They’d heard about the escaped prisoner while in Diagon Alley. Everyone was talking about it. One of Voldemort’s people who had killed a bunch of muggles. Ron had caught sight of a Daily Prophet and remembered the haunted look on the man’s sagging face. His thin hair, his crazed eyes. Over dinner it had come out that his dad had been pulled from his regular job to join the manhunt, along with every other Ministry employee. Even the muggle’s leader, the Prime Minister, had been informed. There had been more aurors than usual in Diagon Alley, something which Percy had pointed out. There were also going to be extra guards around King’s Cross, and at Hogsmeade and Hogwarts.

“Peter Pettigrew,” Ron said.

A look of disgust passed over Harry’s face. “They told me…he was a spy for Voldemort. He was giving him information on where people were hiding. There was a charm some people used, the Fidelius Charm. He snuck around and ended up finding who the Secret-Keeper was for the Longbottoms, a woman named Marlene McKinnon. She was…she was tortured and killed. And…”

Ron watched Harry struggling to find the words. It took a few moments for him to get his breathing back under control. Crookshanks slid off of Ron’s lap and jumped onto Harry’s bed, brushing against him. Harry placed a hand on the cat’s back. 

“Thanks,” Harry said. He cleared his throat. “My parents…they made Pettigrew their Secret-Keeper. He’s the one who told those Death Eaters where they were. He tried to run after it came out that Voldemort died, or was defeated…whatever…someone caught up to him, and he blew up a street. It knocked him out too, that’s how he was arrested.”

Ron felt sick. He hadn’t known someone else had been involved in attacking Harry’s family. He knew about the Lestranges, and Barty Crouch. The Lestranges were still in Azkaban, and Crouch had died years ago. But now someone had broken out. 

“Is it…do they think he escaped to, you know,” Ron said, feeling a flush of anxiety at the thought. “To…finish the job?”

Harry shook his head, rejecting the idea. “Your dad said he’s been muttering about Hogwarts for months. They think he’s after Longbottom. There was some kind of riot in Azkaban a while ago. Your dad says they hushed it up. But now that someone’s escaped…”

“Other people might too,” Ron finished.

From what his dad told them all earlier, no one had managed to work out how exactly Pettigrew had got out. The man in the Prophet had a feral, manic look to him. Ron didn’t think someone like that was rational enough to break out of one of the most well guarded magical prisons in the world. It was a mystery.

“What if they go after mum?” Harry said in a whisper. “She can’t fight back, she’s only got healers around, and they have so many other patients to worry about.”

“They should put extra guards up at St. Mungo’s too,” Ron said. “We’ll talk to dad about it. Maybe he knows someone in the Ministry who can help.”

They stayed up a little late talking. Ron tried to switch topics to the new classes they were taking, but neither of them were really invested. They had everything already packed, Crookshanks was kicking in his sleep, Harry was barely recovered from being half-drowned and looked exhausted, so they gave up and went to bed. 

Luna was dropped off by her father, who was busy with a backlog of reader submissions and other communications that had piled up during their summer-long holiday. They all squeezed into the Ford Anglia, which Ron’s mum once again complimented on its roominess. Ron and Harry grinned at each other, knowing most muggle cars couldn't seat nine people.

Luna chatted to Ginny, and anyone else who wanted to listen, about her and her father searching for some creatures called mountain devils in California. Ginny talked about the different creatures they had seen in Egypt. The twins had their heads together, plotting something. Percy had found some book on prefects who had gained power, which was disconcerting. Harry was quiet for the most part. He was still on a few different potions, and it made him lethargic, especially early in the morning.

Ron reached a finger through the slats in Crookshanks’ wicker cage, and felt the cat nudge against him. Crookshanks had already shown his worth as a hunter, as he had dropped a mangled gnome on Ron’s head to wake him up.

Once at the station Ron’s mum directed them like a conductor.

“Harry, you go first with Arthur. Percy, you take Ron. Fred and George…Luna, dear, don’t wander off. Ginny, fetch Luna would you? I’ll take you girls through…”

Ron waited next to Percy, watching their dad put an arm around Harry, whispering something to him as they walked through the barrier. Ron noticed a lot of people standing around wearing muggle suits, but just a bit off. Patterned shirts, bright colors, trainers. One had even thrown a cloak over her suit. Aurors, most likely. 

“How is Harry doing?” Percy asked, straightening his Head Boy badge. The twins had charmed it to say Bighead Boy, and Percy stayed up all night fixing it.

“I don’t know,” Ron said honestly. They began pushing their trolleys through the crowd. Crookshanks was thankfully well behaved. “Did you know about Pettigrew?”

“I get my own copy of the Daily Prophet,” Percy said, pausing as they waited for a muggle family to pass. “It’s important to keep up with current events. Was he involved with…that incident with Harry’s parents?”

Ron was silent for a moment. His parents had both known, so perhaps it was common knowledge among their generation. He didn’t think Harry would like a bunch of rumors about him and his parents going around school, but Percy wasn’t the type to gossip.

“Yeah, he was,” Ron finally said. “Mum and dad told him about it last night.”

Percy nodded curtly. “I’ll let the prefects know to be particularly attentive this year.” 

As they passed through the barrier, Percy put a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “I know we are in different houses, and we don’t see each other much at school, but I am Head Boy now. If there is anything either of you need, or if you need to…talk…I’m here for you. Both of you.”

Percy was looking over the crowd, clearly embarrassed.

“Thanks, Perce,” Ron said.

Percy had always been a little aloof, more so after starting Hogwarts, and he was much more rule-abiding than the rest of them, their dad included. But he did look out for his younger siblings. Ron had seen him helping Ginny with her summer homework, and he had seemingly gained encyclopedic knowledge on animal husbandry overnight to better help out around what was turning into a small family farm. He’d even taken Harry to St. Mungo’s a few times when their mum was too busy. However overbearing Percy could be, Ron was glad he had one of his older brothers looking out for him.

Percy lightly squeezed Ron’s shoulder, then quickly walked away to establish dominance in the prefects’ compartment. Fred and George had already boarded the train to find Lee, Ginny had run off to greet her Gryffindor friends, and Luna was wandering around. Ron collected her, and went to where his dad and Harry were standing.

“I promise,” Harry said with a serious expression.

“Ah, Ron,” his dad said, seeing him approach. “Now you boys stick together, especially when going to Hogsmeade. They’ve got guards around the school, but, well…”

“We will, dad,” Ron promised.

His mum bustled over to hug them goodbye, giving a surprised Luna a hug too, and soon Ron, Harry, and Luna were walking down the train corridor, looking for an empty compartment.

“You don’t want to sit with Ginny?” Harry asked Luna. 

Luna shook her head, and bits of tinsel fell to the ground. She had an Alice band made out of the stuff, and was wearing earrings made out of large sand dollars that hissed when they moved.

They reached the end of the train, and Ron was resigned to sharing a compartment with other people. He opened the door and was surprised to see an adult already inside, fast asleep.

They quietly made their way into the compartment. Luna took out a back issue of the Quibbler to read, but Harry was staring at the man.

The man was well-dressed in open, forest green robes and a brown tweed muggle suit that wouldn’t look out of place in downtown London. He had a young face and was well-groomed, though his combed back hair had started to go grey and he had shadows under his eyes. There was something familiar about him, which Ron finally put his finger on when he saw the name embossed on the man’s briefcase.

“R.J. Lupin,” Harry read quietly. “Think he’s related to Lyall?”

“Must be,” Ron said. “He looks just like him. What do you reckon he’s doing here?”

“He’s our new Defense professor,” Luna said, not looking up from her paper.

“Well, yeah,” Ron replied. “I mean, why’s he on the train?”

“More security?” Harry suggested, looking at the man doubtfully.

“Not much use asleep,” Ron said dismissively.

Crookshanks was set free, and Ron and Harry talked about what they looked forward to in Hogsmeade while Luna made increasingly nonsensical suggestions about things to do in the wizarding village. 

When the trolley witch came by, both Ron and Harry loaded up on chocolate. Ron had a craving for it, and biting off the legs of his Chocolate Frog made him feel a bit better. He didn’t understand why he felt so nervous, besides all the usual things. He chalked it up to back to school jitters and ate the lunch his mum packed.

Luna turned down their offers to share, pulling out a sandwich of her own that disturbingly had tiny legs sticking out of it. She seemed happy enough with her food, so Ron simply avoided watching her eat.

“It’s frog,” she explained unnecessarily.

Ron hid behind his egg and cress.

Harry cast a silencing charm on their chess pieces so they could play without bothering their new teacher. Luna joined in too, inventing new rules for a three person game using only half the pieces. The chess pieces rebelled.

As they traveled north it got darker, rainier, and colder. The train rattled in its tracks, the lamps came on, and both Lupin and Crookshanks slept through it all.

Ron looked up from the book of chess puzzles he was working on when the train slowed and came to a sudden stop. He could hear luggage falling from racks, and Crookshanks was thrown to the floor. The cat began growling menacingly.

Ron's wand was immediately in his hand.

All the lights went out.

“Lumos.”

Harry had also got his wand and was holding it up to give them all light. Luna watched them with luminous eyes, then took her wand from behind her ear.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“No idea,” Ron said, looking out of the window. “I think something’s moving out there.”

“Get away from the door,” Harry said, aiming his wand at it.

Luna quickly moved back, losing her normally dreamy expression. She was as pale as her namesake, and held her wand up like a shield.

“We should wake him up,” Ron said, glancing at the man.

“Use a stinging hex,” Harry suggested, still watching the door.

Ron frowned, but pointed his wand at the man and said, “Urticare.”

Their new professor jumped as if stung by a bee, pulling his wand out in a quick motion.

“What’s going on?” he asked, sitting upright. “Was that one of you?”

He looked at the three of them warily, pausing when he saw Harry.

“The train stopped, professor,” Ron said, drawing the man’s attention.

Lupin nodded, then slowly stood up. “Stay where you—”

A wretched coldness filled their compartment, reminding Ron of that freezing water he and Harry had nearly died in. It was the bone-deep chill of death. His breath came out in a mist. He looked at Harry, who wore a harsh expression made eerie by his wandlight. Harry’s grip tightened on the thin wood just as the door began to slide open. 

The creature that entered was an abomination. Its decaying claws gripped the compartment door. Most of it was obscured by a tattered black cloak that rippled around it. Ron could hear something, a familiar voice, begging him to go, to get out of the way, to run. His vision started to black out. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t speak, and that terrible green light—

“Expecto patronum!”

Warmth bloomed in his chest, suffusing his body. Ron shook his head, vision filling instead with a brilliant silver light as some massive burst of magic slammed into the creature, the dementor, and drove it away. It shrieked, and Ron cringed away from the sound. His eyes found Harry, who was standing with his wand outstretched, arm shaking, swaying back and forth. Ron caught him as he fell, pulling Harry into the seat next to him. He looked over at Luna, who was curled up and shivering in the corner. Crookshanks’ fur stood on end, and he was growling at the now empty door. Lupin was staring in shock at Harry, his wand dangling from his hand, forgotten. 

“How does he know that spell?” Lupin breathed. “That’s not possible. He’s only thirteen.”

“He’s Harry Potter,” Ron said, as if that was the only explanation needed. 

Lupin shook his head, then looked back at the door. “I’ll need to check the rest of the train. You three, stay here. If you have any chocolate, eat it.”

Lupin disappeared down the hall, and Ron could hear him opening other compartments as he made his way through the train. 

Ron found one of the Chocolate Frogs they hadn’t eaten and handed it to Luna. She took it with shaky hands and opened it up. 

“I like frogs,” she said quietly, nibbling on it.

Ron found more chocolate for him and Harry. Harry had passed out. He had used a lot of magic all at once, and Ron now knew they needed to practice bigger spells, and do magic more frequently, so something like this didn’t happen again. Harry shouldn’t have to sacrifice himself like that to save other people. If they ran into something like the dementor again, Ron needed to be ready. 

“I heard my mum,” Luna said, her big, pale eyes unfocused, tears running down her pallid face. “I heard her telling me to run. And the explosion. It all happened again...”

“I heard something too,” Ron admitted, looking down at Harry. “I think it affected him the most.”

Luna nodded, wiping her tears away. “What was that creature?”

“A dementor,” Ron said. “They guard Azkaban. They eat happiness and…souls, I think.”

She nodded again, glancing out the window. Wind and rain beat at the glass. 

The lamps flickered back on. The train shuddered, and began moving again. Ron reached over to touch Harry’s cheek. His skin was ashen and he was frightfully cold to the touch. Ron saw his lips had a bluish tinge. 

“Shit,” Ron said, patting down Harry’s robes.

There was something the healers had given him for emergencies, and he knew Harry had to carry it around with him. The healers had shown Ron and his mum how it worked, and they had told everyone else in the family, just in case something like this happened. 

“What are you looking for?” Luna asked worriedly. “Is he ill?”

“He is,” Ron said, finally recalling he had a wand. “Accio respiration powder!”

A tiny capsule flew out of Harry’s robes and Ron caught it. He was panicking, he knew, but he’d committed the steps to memory. It was simple. He crushed the capsule in his hand and blew the powder in Harry’s face. A pale green mist formed, and Ron watched it closely as it pushed its way into Harry’s mouth and nose. Each passing second was torture, but soon Harry shuddered, gasped, then bent over, coughing wetly. 

“Is he going to be okay now?” Luna asked. 

Ron gently pounded Harry’s back as he coughed and took heaving breaths. 

“I’m fine,” Harry rasped, not sounding fine at all. 

“Don’t talk,” Ron said, looking around for something for Harry to drink. Harry reached towards the floor, and Ron saw there was another Chocolate Frog there, which Harry ripped open and shoved into his mouth.

“Are you trying to choke yourself?” Ron admonished. 

Harry gave him a withering look, spoiled by him sticking his tongue out with a half-masticated Chocolate Frog still in his mouth. 

“How boorish of you,” Ron said pompously, channeling Percy. 

Harry chuckled, then hastily swallowed just before he started coughing again. Ron found a water bottle, which Harry greedily drank from. He wiped his mouth, then passed it back to Ron. 

“Are you two alright?” Harry asked them. 

“I’ll be okay,” Luna said. Crookshanks had crawled into her lap, and Luna was hugging him. 

“I’m fine,” Ron said. He didn’t understand what he had heard, but it had him in a cold sweat. He never wanted to hear it again. “What about you?”

Harry shook his head. His expression was indecipherable, remote.

“Not really,” Harry said, coughing lightly. “They make you relive your worst memories.”

Harry looked at Luna, and Ron saw they shared something he didn’t understand. Both of them had seen one of their parents die. Even though Harry had only been a baby, the memory was strong enough for a dementor to call forth and torment him with. If he hadn’t remembered it before, he did now. 

Lupin came back to tell them they were almost at Hogwarts.

“Are you alright, Harry?” he asked. 

Harry shook his head, not looking at Lupin. 

When the train finally stopped, Harry tried to get up by himself but stumbled back into his seat. Ron helped him off the train, Luna following close behind with Crookshanks. The rain was coming down in icy sheets, and Ron scowled at it. Aurors in red robes waited for them, scanning the crowd. One of them, a young man with black hair and grey eyes, frowned when he saw Ron supporting Harry. He looked vaguely familiar, but Ron couldn’t place him. After a moment, the man looked away, turning to speak with Lupin.

“I know a charm,” Luna said, her voice stronger. “Daddy taught it to me when we went to Yosemite looking for a subspecies of the Sasquatch. Umbraculum!”

A bright yellow umbrella sprung out of Luna’s wand and spread above them, drawing jealous glances from their peers. She led the way to the carriages, where Ron saw the thestrals standing in the rain. He wondered if the water bothered them, but the unearthly horses were hard to read. Once inside the carriage, Luna shook her wand out and the conjured umbrella vanished. 

“That was brilliant,” Ron said, Harry nodding in agreement. Luna smiled absently at them, then turned to stare out of the window. 

Luna conjured another umbrella when they got out of the carriage, and they walked up to the castle together. There was some scuffle between Malfoy and Longbottom on the steps, but Lupin appeared and broke it up, and they made it through the oak doors and into the castle. 

Now that they were out of the rain, Crookshanks leapt out of Luna’s arms and walked over to Ron and Harry. 

“I’ll see you two after the feast,” Luna said lightly, flouncing into the Great Hall.

“Mr. Potter!” a high voice called. Flitwick was hurrying out of the Great Hall. “We just got an owl from Professor Lupin,” he said when he reached them. “Madam Pomfrey is expecting you in the hospital wing.”

Ron watched Harry struggle for a moment, but his friend finally nodded, and they walked towards the infirmary, Flitwick promising to have the feast delivered to them. 

Harry had to spend the night in the hospital wing, an owl was sent to Ron’s mum and dad, and Ron handled the questions their dormmates had. They were used to Harry’s visits to Madam Pomfrey, so they didn’t pry much. The conversation quickly turned to what everyone had done for the summer. Most people had seen the Daily Prophet article, and interrogated him about what Egypt was like.

It continued at breakfast the next morning. Harry joined them, looking much better. Luna had planted herself among the third-years. Everyone was accustomed to her idiosyncrasies and didn’t mind it. 

Flitwick handed them their class schedules, and everyone started talking about the changes that year.

“I was really looking forward to Kettleburn,” Morag said dolefully. “Why couldn’t he retire after we’ve done N.E.W.T.s? He worked with Newt Scamander!”

Most of them had gone for the so-called hard magic classes, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Morag, of course, was taking Care of Magical Creatures. Padma was taking Divination and Care because her twin sister was in both classes and she wanted to spend more time with her. Strangely, Anthony was also taking Divination.

“It’s dead useful for Ministry work,” he explained.

“Then why not Muggle Studies?” Ron asked. “My dad works with muggle things all the time. So do the aurors, obliviators, the Minister’s staff…”

“That’s a soft option,” Ernie said. “I heard the professor hasn’t even met a muggle. What can she tell us about them?”

“It’s better to spend some time actually living in the muggle world,” Anthony said. “That’s where muggleborns and halfbloods have an advantage. I actually spent part of the summer in a muggle summer camp. Very odd people, muggles. Did you know they start fires with things called matches?”

“What do you lot think about Lupin?” Sue asked, glancing at the head table. Ron followed her gaze, and saw Lupin chatting animatedly with Hagrid and McGonagall. 

“He’s a dark creatures scholar,” Harry said. “And that’s what we’re studying this year in Defense. It should be a good fit.”

“How do you know that?” Morag asked. 

“We’ve met his dad before,” Ron said. “He’s been coming to help us clear out pixies. I think he did magical creature management with the Ministry.”

“Really?” Morag asked, eyes lighting up. “Think you could introduce me?”

“We’re third-years,” Terry said, looking scandalized. “You’re already trying to network?’

Morag glared at him, but Harry distracted her by mentioning the hieracosphinx they had seen during summer.

“Madam Pomfrey wants me for weekly appointments,” Harry said as they walked to their first Arithmancy class, leading the other third-years. “I was thinking about asking her to teach me healing, since I’m going to be there anyway.”

“That’s a great idea,” Ron said, grinning at him. “I was thinking…what’s magic like in different places? I doubt everyone in the world uses the same kinds of spells, in the same language.”

“Yeah, watching Bill deal with those mutant skeleton things was pretty cool,” Harry said. “If someone casts a curse in a different language, wouldn’t the countercurse be in that same language?”

“Exactly,” Ron said, feeling a little warm. “I wonder if we’ll learn hieroglyphs in Ancient Runes? The books Percy had were all Elder Futhark…”

Ron and Harry found seats at the front. He was a little surprised to see how small the class was. They had third-years from all houses, as demonstrated when Hermione Granger sat down next to him.

“Good morning,” she said primly, putting a large stack of books on their table. 

“Where’s Longbottom and the rest?” Harry asked, leaning around Ron.

“Neville’s taking Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies,” she said, straightening her quills. She arranged them in order of length. “Dean and Seamus are taking Muggles Studies and Divination.”

“Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles,” Ron read from the spine of one of Hermione’s books. “You’re taking Muggle Studies too? Aren’t you muggleborn?”

Hermione bristled. “Is there a problem with that?”

“No,” Harry said, exchanging glances with Ron. “But we heard the professor is…a little out of touch. You’d do better self-studying.”

Their conversation was cut short when the teacher, Professor Vector, walked into the room. She handed each of them a syllabus and without preamble began her lecture.

After dinner, Ron walked Harry to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey wanted to check on how he was doing after a full day of classes. She shooed Ron away as she set up privacy charms around Harry. Ron strolled around the hospital wing as he waited. It was mostly empty, since there had been little opportunity for incidents. Not much magic was done on the first day as the professors took the time to catch them up.

He heard an obnoxious noise and went to investigate. He was unsurprised to see Draco Malfoy complaining to Pansy Parkinson, gesturing to his arm, which was wrapped in layers of gauze.

“What happened to you?” Ron asked, interrupting them.

Parkinson glared at him, moving closer to Malfoy.

“None of your business, Weasley,” Malfoy said, his voice unusually flat.

“What are you doing here?” Parkinson asked. “Did you pick up some filthy muggle disease in Egypt?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Malfoy said weakly. “Your father finally got his hands on some gold. Did your mother die of shock?”

Ron felt himself going red. “I bet it was something stupid,” he said, looking at Malfoy’s bandaged arm. “Spell backfire? Or did you get bit by a flobberworm?”

“He’s lost half his arm!” Parkinson snapped. “That beast was out of control!”

Ron took a step back. He hadn’t realized Malfoy had been seriously injured, and he felt bad for mocking him.

“What’s going on here?” Madam Pomfrey asked, appearing behind him like a vengeful spirit.

“Mr. Weasley,” she said in a low voice, “are you agitating a patient?”

“He’s bothering me,” Malfoy said immediately. “Make him go away.”

“Accompanying Mr. Potter is a privilege, one I would be happy to revoke if you continue to cause a disturbance.”

“I’m sorry,” he said to her, practically feeling the smugness rolling of the two Slytherins. “I was just asking—”

“Well don’t! Mr. Potter is finished now, I suggest you two go straight to your dormitory.”

Ron nodded mutely, glancing at Malfoy who he was suddenly feeling a lot less bad for.

“What was that about?” Harry asked as they walked up to Ravenclaw Tower. 

“I think Malfoy got attacked by something,” Ron said. “Parkinson said he lost half his arm.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “First dementors, now something’s been after Malfoy. It’s barely been a day…”

“What did Madam Pomfrey say?”

Harry shrugged. “Nothing much. She says I can’t start healer training until after N.E.W.T.s. She did say I could try learning some first aid spells, but actual healers need to know more about potions, human transfiguration, all sorts of things. Healing spells cast poorly can make someone worse.”

Ron nodded. He hadn’t told Harry, not wanting to worry him, but the healers had to rebreak his wrist to heal it properly. It didn’t hurt at all since they numbed it first, and it only took a few minutes. The spell Harry had used would have worked, but Harry wasn’t proficient enough to do it properly. It was fine in an emergency but…Harry had a lot to learn. They both did. 

“Want to get a start on our Arithmancy homework?” Ron asked. 

Harry paused at the top of the spiral staircase to catch his breath. The doorknocker had asked them a riddle, but Ron hadn’t heard it. 

Harry looked at him and smiled. “Yeah. Let’s get started.”