Obsequium

When Ron was born, barely a few minutes out of his mother’s womb, he learned of the reality of his life.

As he grew older, that reality would only become more and more clear.

That Ron was only a sixth son. He was nothing special, as a matter of fact his mother had cried from sorrow when the Healers put another son in her arms.

Ron was born in wartime. He was among few babies born that year as no one knew when the war was going to end. His parents were determined to still live even through the war and that was how Ron was born into a family with five older brothers.

As he grew older, the war only worsened and by the time he was cutting his first tooth, his father had been called to join the battle as well.

Ron didn’t understand at the time the repercussions that would follow that choice. Arthur Weasley was part of a team of Aurors and Resistance fighters that had been responsible for a large group of Death Eater’s being caught, but some had escaped as well.

Ron wasn’t the only baby affected by this. On the same night that the war would end, three Light families would forever be changed.

In one house, the Dark Lord would fight and kill the grandparents of the Potter Family only to be vanquished by the one year old baby who would be known as the Boy-Who-Lived.

In another, Bellatrix Lestrange would curse to insanity, the parents of another one year old baby who would grow timidly in the shadow of his father’s greatness.

And finally, in the house of a Blood-traitor family, seeking revenge against Arthur Weasley for following the rules of the Ministry, a shrouded Death Eater placed an ancient and dark curse on their youngest son.

It was the Obsequium Curse. The curse of Obedience.

To most parents this would be a blessing in disguise, but to Ron … it was his deepest, darkest and most painful reality.

In the beginning his parents tried not to use it at all. Ron had been put under test after test, even taken to the Department of Mysteries, but there was no cure for the Obsequium curse other than the death of the caster and without knowing who had cast the curse … there was nothing to be done but to live with it.

At first they tried to ignore it but it was impossible to ignore when it was just so … convenient.

“Ron, stop crying.” Molly would sigh exasperatedly when the barely one year old would cry from hunger or soiled nappies, and Ron, unable to disobey, would hiccup and immediately cease to cry.

His mother wasn’t the only one.

“Ron, don’t tell your mother about this, alright?” Arthur would say, in the little shed behind the house where he tinkered with all sorts of muggle equipment, and Ron, four years old and holding too many secrets already, would hiccup and take hold of another secret, unable to disobey.

Molly Weasley had cried in disappointment the day he was born and after the curse she paid even less attention to him. The day Ginevra Weasley was born Ron could never begin to compare to how perfect and beloved the first girl in generations of Weasley’s was.

Every Weasley knew not to speak about Ron’s … affliction, but that didn’t stop all of them from using it. Ron could never fight back, it was as simple as snapping at him, “Ron, do as I say!” and he would be powerless to disobey them. Some of his brothers, like his oldest ones, didn’t really mess with him and of all of them Ron loved Bill the most.

Bill would let Ron curl up next to him and read him passages from his books in a soft voice. Whenever he was overwhelmed, Bill would give him a look and Ron knew he could sneak into his older brother’s room for a moment of peace. 

Bill would never demand anything from him. His words were always carefully thought out to give Ron the option to refuse, though Ron never really did, because he adored Bill.

“Would you pass me the salt, Ron?” Bill would ask, instead of demanding, and Ron would send him a small, tired smile, passing him the salt shaker of his own volition.

“Pass us the chicken, Ron!” Fred would crow a moment later and Ron would turn a bit red as a hiccup escaped him without his consent and he would scowl a bit as his arms moved without any ability to stop them just to pass Fred the chicken.

“Lay off,” Bill snapped, frowning at the laughing twins.

“Oh leave them, darling, it’s just some harmless fun,” Molly Weasley would chuckle, ruffling the twins’ hair as they grinned smugly at Ron.

“He doesn’t have a choice, mum,” Bill scowled. “It’s not fun for him.”

And his parents would laugh it off and pretend to scold his brothers but both Ron and Bill knew it was meaningless. Ron would slip his small hand into his older brother’s palm and squeeze it in silent thanks.

As the years sped along, Bill would end up leaving him to attend Hogwarts and without his protector, Ron’s childhood sped by with the fierce, coiling band in his chest that forced him to obey.

Charlie did his best and while he never tried to order Ron around he wasn’t as good as Bill was with wording his requests and minding his words, and he still got a little chuckle when the others got Ron to do something ridiculous.

When he was old enough, fourteen, to get a job in the muggle town Ron spent all his spare time hidden in the back of a little corner bookshop where he sorted through all the books and read the muggle classics.

He was always there the earliest that the store opened and only left when the owner, Maggie, closed up the shop. He thought Maggie knew that he was trying to get out of his house because the muggle woman had always treated him kindly and appreciated how willing he was to do things.

Her requests, while forward and triggering his obedience, were never mean spirited so he didn’t mind her simply thinking he was helpful.

Ron was a quiet boy. He didn’t like talking much and giving people the opportunity to use his words against him, or make his true self into something they could exploit.

He spent his seventeenth birthday in the little bookstore. His favorite place in the world. Maggie knew it was his birthday and she poked her head into the back room, giving him a bright smile.

“Ronnie, come upstairs. I need your help.” She said and Ron swallowed his hiccup, placing a worn copy of Dracula down as his obedience lifted him up and he followed her upstairs, not feeling the need to fight his curse.

“What do you need help with, Mrs. Donoghue?” he asked curiously. Sometimes he would help her change her lights, despite not knowing what they were at first, or lift something heavy for her. She lived above the bookshop along with her husband, Richard, who Ron also liked. He’d spent long moments of his childhood wishing that he’d been born the normal son of these muggles.

Maggie opened the door and Ron blinked.

Her apartment was full of colors, little strands of confetti and balloons decorated the walls and Richard was standing in the middle of it and holding a large plate with a perfectly imperfect iced birthday cake. 

Tears sprung to his eyes and he couldn’t quite hold them in despite himself as Maggie and her husband started singing for him, crowding around him along with Hugo, their golden retriever dog.

Maggie placed a tight little birthday cap on his head, reaching out to tenderly brush away his tears.

“Make a wish, Ronnie!” Richard insisted and Ron sniffled, closing his eyes. He pressed his fingers together in a prayer and wished,

I wish I could be reborn as their son. I wish I’d never been born as Ron Weasley.

It was an impossible wish, but he opened his eyes and blew out the candles and beamed at the way the two muggles cheered and hugged him, patting his hair proudly.

“Seventeen is a big one,” Richard said as Maggie took the cake to cut it up. “Why, we’ve known you since you were what, fourteen? Can’t believe it’s been four years already, feels like forever.”

“It feels like forever to me too, sir.” Ron said shyly, trying to dry his cheeks with his sleeves. Richard chuckled, patting his back.

“Now, now, dry up those tears, son. You’re off to boarding school soon, aren’t you?”

Maggie made a distressed noise.

“Don’t remind me,” she cried, returning with a tray of cake and tea. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Ronnie!”

“Let me help, Mrs. Donaghue!” he stood to help her and she laughed, waving him down.

“Sit, Ronnie, it’s your birthday! You aren’t supposed to work today!” she insisted and he flushed, sitting down and feeling awkward that he wasn’t being forced to serve them obediently the way he was at home.

“I’ll be leaving September first,” he said quietly. “I was hoping I’d be able to come back for Christmas but my parents are visiting my older brother Charlie, I think. He works in Romania.”

“Really? Romania?” Richard said, sounding fascinated. “What does he do? That’s not the banker, right?”

“No, Bill’s the banker,” Ron lied. “Charlie rehabilitates dangerous animals at a facility there.”

Which was a muggle-proof way of saying his older brother worked at a dragon reserve, taming fire-breathing dragons all day.

“Oh my, that’s quite interesting!” Maggie said, sounding surprised. “I certainly hope you’re interested in something with a bit less excitement. I’d hate for you to get hurt.” she pouted.

Warmth filled his chest.

“I’ve been feeling for a while that I’d like to go into a doctorate program,” Ron admitted. This much was true, he had a vested interest in healing but with an emphasis on curse healing. 

Ron wanted, more than anything, to heal his own curse, and even though he couldn’t that didn’t mean that other curses couldn’t be healed.

“Oh how wonderful!” Maggie cried. “Our Ronnie, a doctor! You’ll make a terrific doctor, I just know it.”

Ron smiled at them and placed a bite of cake on his tongue to keep from crying again.

He’d never tasted such support and love in his life, at least not from people he looked at as parents. Bill was among the only ones that he felt truly loved by in his family. Even now, although Bill was pursuing further study and work in Egypt, he still sent Ron letters every week.

He was happy enough from his birthday spent with the Donoghues that he didn’t even care that none of his family remembered that it was even his birthday.

When they went to Diagon Alley to buy the new year’s school things, Ron didn’t say anything when he was saddled with Bill’s old robes. He was seventeen but he still hugged the robes like he was five years old, tongue quivering in his mouth after The Incident.

The Incident was what had brought Ron and Bill together to be there for each other as much as they could be. It was also why Ron never even tried to fight his curse, especially with the twins.

The only reason Ron wasn’t being saddled with Charlie’s old wand, the one with the unicorn hair sticking out the top, was because Bill had sent him seven shiny galleons of his own pay for his own wand.

When his parents tried to take the money Bill had Floo-called them and scolded them loudly enough that their ears had all been ringing.

After that even his father had stopped bothering with Ron much further than an awkward grunt in the morning as a greeting.

All of Ron’s school books were Bill’s old books and there was nothing he liked more than reading through them and tracing the notes left for him in the margins.

Bill had written in the books, not only so that they couldn’t be resold, but specially for Ron. The twins and Percy had to use Charlie’s old books because Bill’s were locked in a charmed trunk and his older brother had never budged when their parents tried to fight him about it.

Ron stared up at the ceiling the night before Hogwarts. He’d spent the entire day with the Donoghues saying his goodbyes and swearing to write to them. He’d send letters to them through the post store in Diagon Alley. 

It cost a couple of sickles to send letters through the muggle post from the Diagon post office and Ron had long ago transferred his muggle pay into galleons that sat in his Gringotts vault. 

No one but Bill knew about his Gringotts vault, and Ron had tried to tell his older brother that he could pay for his own wand but Bill had refused.

“Mum and dad will find out about your vault if you do that, Ron. I want to pay for your wand either way, so please just let me.” His older brother had begged.

For some reason he couldn’t sleep. He knew it was anxiety over the next day but it was more than that. He’d have to navigate a whole world of people demanding from him whereas before it had just been his family.

What was he going to do if someone noticed that he did everything told of him and told the whole school? Ron shuddered in bed.

He couldn’t even fathom it, but it was about to be his reality.

☆

“Now, there’s a subject that I’ve saved for last on the list,” Albus said, voice a little quieter. “I thought it prudent to have this discussion only with a select few.”

The only professors left in the staff room were the four Head of Houses, Lily, Sirius and James. They’d been about to leave but Albus had quietly asked them to remain, sending the other professors away with a genial smile.

James’s curiosity was piqued when Albus lifted a few privacy wards over them all. Was this about the stone?

He could tell that he wasn’t the only one who was deathly curious. Minerva was frowning, so she obviously didn’t know what was going on either.

“It’s about a student we’re getting this year.” Albus clarified once his privacy wards were fully lifted.

“Is there a special needs student this year?” Sirius asked curiously. He wasn’t actually a professor, but he was at Hogwarts enough that he usually sat in on the meetings in case there was something going on that he needed to know, as an Auror.

“Something like that,” Albus said, sounding a little sage. “This student is the unfortunate recipient of a curse that cannot be broken easily.”

James’s brows rose up as he straightened his spine, alert. 

“A curse?” Minerva blurted. “Is it dangerous, Albus?”

“It is not dangerous to anyone but the student.” Albus sighed. “The curse in particular is called the Obsequium curse, it is the curse of-”

“Obedience.” Severus murmured, eyes widening.

James inhaled slightly and Sirius’s jaw outright dropped as he swore.

“An obedience curse?” Sirius repeated blankly. “You can’t be serious! And he’s still alive?”

“It kills?” Pomona asked, wide eyed and Sirius shook his head.

“The curse doesn’t kill, but usually people afflicted with curses like that have quite difficult lives. They usually tend to …” he didn’t need to finish for them to understand his point. James flinched at the words and his age old friend sent him an apologetic look.

“How long has the student had it?” Lily asked, looking pale. “Surely not long?”

Albus winced.

“Unfortunately, he has never known life without it.” Albus said sadly. “He was cursed on Halloween, the night the war ended. He was Harry’s age when he was cursed.”

James’s heart clenched. His friends couldn’t help but look at him and he felt his skin crawl slightly.

Lily had her mouth covered in shock and she wasn’t the only one. It was unfathomable that someone had lived sixteen years under an obedience curse. Even Severus had wide eyes at that.

“Goodness, they must have quite a lot of bravery to live so, or a very understanding family.” Minerva breathed. “Who is this student, Albus?”

“Ronald Weasley,” Albus said. “He is the sixth son of the Weasley family. During the war his father angered some Death Eaters and one broke into their home and cursed his son before disappearing, as you know the curse can only be broken with the death of the caster.”

“Ah, at least it is the Weasleys, I was worried it would be a student in a less desirable home.” Pomona sighed, looking relieved. “The Weasley’s can be a lot but they are good people.”

James was less eager to think the best of people. He knew first hand that good people didn’t always make good choices.

“I bring Mr. Weasley up to you to urge you to keep an eye on him. Not a lot of people know of his curse, I only know because Arthur came to see me personally sixteen years ago to see if I could heal him but there was nothing I could do.” Albus sighed. “I have not yet seen the boy again, but I know the curse is still active.”

“How could you know?” James asked confusedly.

“His oldest brother, William.” Albus admitted. “In his final year he came to see me to speak about Ronald. He asked me to keep an eye on the boy and gave me some advice about how to speak to him.”

“How to speak to him?” Lily asked with a frown. “Should we speak to him differently?”

“He is forced to obey every direct command no matter what, Lily,” James said in a quiet voice. Lily turned her frown to him. “If you told him to fetch you something he would do it without hesitation, that wouldn’t be so hard, inconveniencing at most, but it’s more dangerous than that. If you told him to stop breathing he would hold his breath until he suffocated, there would be no way for him to breathe until the command is given to him.”

Lily’s eyes widened even more and Sirius rubbed his wife’s back gently. They both sent James a pained look, perhaps realizing how he was taking this news, considering his own past.

“It would be best to phrase something as a question, but under no circumstances should you ever give him a directly phrased request.” Albus explained patiently. “He has no ability to refuse even the simplest request. It is the difference between saying, “fetch those books”, and “can you fetch me those books”, you see?”

“Should we ask Harry to keep an eye on him?” Lily asked unsurely and it was James who shook his head.

“That could be quite uncomfortable for Mr. Weasley, Lily,” he advised. “He deserves to be able to trust people with his own secrets. This kind of curse is among the more dangerous kinds, and he’s probably anxious about people finding out, let alone being faced with someone who already knows.”

“I agree,” Sirius said seriously. “My cousin had the same curse for a year before he took his own life. It was awful to see the way his parents treated him and the things they made him do, I’m not saying the Weasley’s are like that but still-”

“I understand, it’s just upsetting.” Lily frowned, looking down.

None of them left the staff room without a bit of gloominess. James couldn’t get the young Weasley off his mind. 

He was interested to meet him and see what kind of young man had managed to live so long with such a curse. He couldn’t imagine Harry living with it easily, so he was interested to see what disposition the Weasley boy had.

It couldn’t be easy at all. James would know.