Chapter Text
Part 1: The Potter House
The green flames erupted in the grate followed by the appearance of flaming red hair and a long freckled nose.
“Ron?!” Harry gasped. Throwing his rucksack carelessly on the side he rushed ahead and dropped on his knees in front of the green flames.
“Err … Hi,” the bloke replied, looking extremely awkward as Harry’s parents came in through the kitchen door at the noise.
Ron hated Floo on principle - he hated scrambling through the constricted spaces, bumping his head against the top of the fireplaces and the general discomfort of it all. He wasn’t the kind to make a Floo call either, preferred owls any day. His out-of-character behaviour made Harry extremely curious.
Ron wasn’t a patient guy, and he felt cooped in when alone at their Mansion - that Harry knew well. But it had barely been a few days and something in his body language felt -off? Different?
“If you guys are settled, may I come in?” the bloke asked, the question directed mostly at his parents.
Harry looked over his shoulders and turned back at his friend, nodding vigorously - “Ofcourse, you idiot.”
Ron grinned happily and his head disappeared from the flames only for the tall wizard to pop out of the green flames seconds later. While he duly brushed the soot off of his robes - Harry bleakly agreed to Ron’s disregard for Floo travel. His clothes were just too fancy to be run through soot. But he knew Ron didn’t bother about these things - his aversion was mainly due to his tall form that made getting in and out of the fireplaces quite an uncomfortable experience for him.
“I’d be at your place tomorrow morning; y’know that, right?” he laughed as he clapped his best mate on his back while Ron greeted his parents and they all pulled chairs for themselves.
“Yeah - I know that but -”
“-but you miss me?”
“Flatter yourself much?” Ron laughed but there was a fondness in his words.
“Ron, stay down for lunch?” his mum asked, grabbing the apron from the hook as his dad picked up the kettle.
“Thank you - if it’s not much trouble” Ron replied.
“Tea, boys? Or butterbeer?” his dad inquired.
“Tea, please. Thank you,” Ron replied and looked at Harry who knew on instinct that there was clearly something that was bothering his best mate.
“You wanna go to my room?” he asked in an undertone but Ron shook his head, glanced up at the two adults busy at the stove before he replied.
“I need to talk to your parents actually.”
Harry’s parents and his godfathers were Ron’s favourites. James, Sirius and Remus were the most fun adults he knew - there was something rather warm in the Potter household. They weren’t the filthy rich kind, Potters were not among the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood families, but if Ron had to choose, he’d choose the Potters over most of the so-called ‘elite families’.
James Potter was an Auror and he and his friends were also very close to Ron’s parents - especially Sirius who was also his Dad’s cousin.
Lily Potter always made him feel at home - she worked in an Apothecary and was exceptionally skilled. Ron had a vague inkling that she would have been an excellent Potioneer had she been allowed to pursue Magical education. But most importantly, she was both kind and yet, strong.
The Potter Seniors joined them shortly after - cups of warm tea were placed in front of all four of them and a plate of homemade biscuits sat at the table.
“I actually came down to meet you both,” Ron announced almost abruptly and noticed the couple sharing a curious glance at each other before they smiled kindly at him. This wasn’t new for them - it had always been easier to open up in front of Harry’s parents than his own. James particularly actually enjoyed all the mischief the boys got into at school. Ron had been told that James, Sirius and Remus were absolutely notorious during their days at Hogwarts. The school halls still echoed with stories of their mischief, spoken about in reverence.
“The kids have got a new teacher - who’s staying at the Mansion,” he told them, and his eyes found Lily Potter before addressing her husband. “She’s a Muggleborn,” he added softly, aware that it would tell them more than his words ever could.
He heard Harry release an expletive that would have earned them a detention at school. The bloke’s mum glared at him once before finding Ron. He had not missed the sudden, cautious exchange between the couple.
“You knew, didn’t you?” he deduced, watching James. Of course - he was one of the top Aurors in the force; he would know.
“It’s a legit hire, Ron,” the older man told him, but unlike the conversation with his Dad, his words had a hint of assurance and permission to be more inquisitive. Ron latched onto that.
“Why is he doing this? Seems too much, innit?”
James exhaled soundly. He looked at his wife before replying.
“Your father is doing the right thing, Ron.”
“Why is he doing it at all though-” he retorted, a little frustrated with not just the riddles the adults kept throwing at him but also all his thoughts that kept badgering him. “I-” he drank some tea, phrasing his sentences mentally to sound less flustered and desperate. That’s not how he was trained to speak. “He got new laws drafted to hire a Muggleborn, even allowed her to stay at the Mansion..."
“Didn’t know having Muggleborns around would disturb you so much, Ron.” Harry’s voice though calm had an edge to it. Ron looked his best mate in the eye.
“Harry, that place is not safe for her.” He was barely able to hold back the unreasonable anxiousness. “This world is fu -” he stopped abruptly with a soft inhale. “The Mansion has visitors all the time - Pureblood fanatics and our business associates, many of whom have ugly secrets shrugged under the rug.” He couldn’t get it out of his head. Zabini had missed her by a heartbeat but she wouldn’t always be so lucky. “Even with all the spells and precautions it is not safe for someone who doesn’t even know she could be in danger - she doesn’t know anything about this world. I -I,” he faltered for a second before he continued, “I found out a bit - that so-called family of hers in the village couldn’t care less. The protections are in place to keep the Weasley family safe - what was Dad even thinking bringing her here? She’d be safe in her Muggle world!”
He drank some more and then took to staring intently at the bottom of his cup. It made no sense but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“Ron?”
He looked up at Lily and found her looking at him with a strange sadness despite her smile.
“How old is she?” she asked.
“About our age,” he replied quietly. “Lost her parents recently.”
He could sense the quiet glance the adults shared but no one spoke as if to give him the space to think and to ask. He was grateful for it.
“I - may I ask you something?” he added in a quieter voice.
Discussions about Magic suppressants were sensitive but he knew no one else who he could speak to. He turned to Lily Potter; her eyes were kind and warm. For years now, he snuck into Harry’s whenever he could manage and she made him feel at home - not the kind at the Weasley Mansion where he was an heir to an empire, but a safe place where he could be himself- just a teenager, growing up and finding his place in the world. “I -I don’t want to be intrusive or rude but I need to figure something out,” he asked quietly, awkwardly.
She glanced at her husband and gave him a kind smile. “We know that - it’s always okay to ask questions, Ron. This is your safe space.”
“Does it hurt?” he asked before he could stop himself, “The suppresant?”
She looked once at her husband before watching him again. “Not always, not anymore - I’d say. It becomes a habit, I guess.”
“And… can you -” he licked his lips, “can you sense magic around you?”
She glanced once at her husband who, Ron noticed, placed his palm over hers. “It’s hard to explain," she mused. "I'd say, it’s psychological rather than actual magic. Negative energies make me weaker. I guess, my body’s flight or fight senses kick in - it identifies the need to fight back, but is unable to do so due to the band, perhaps? But can I sense magic the way all of you can? I’m not sure, Ron,” she finished with a sad smile. “Why do you ask?”
He gripped his cup a little tighter - what was it at the library then? Was it Hermione’s flight or fight kicking in? Was his magic responsible for it? Was he putting her at risk?
“Has - has it ever happened, that perhaps you’ve touched someone - or something- and it made magic crackle around you?” he asked slowly and felt three pairs of eyes on himself. His eyes found James first and then Harry, “ - just like when our wand chose us,” he explained.
“No, Ron,” Lily replied, her voice tense. “I’d remember that.”
“Ron,” James looked pensive. “This seems very specific. Do you want to tell us what happened?”
Ron, although conflicted, confided in them of the happening in the library. The question burning within found its way to his lips before he could hold back. “Do you think my magic is endangering her? Was that her reflex?”
James looked pensive. “I don’t think so,” he replied after a while. He went quiet, contemplative before he looked up from his cup to watch Ron. “Who else have you told this to?”
“Not a soul,” he replied, even more anxious now.
“Why didn’t you tell your dad?”
Ron looked away. “I’m not quite sure I should,” he replied softly, hating himself a little for doubting his dad’s intentions but unable to decline his gut that had asked him to keep the knowledge to himself. “I think I was worried,” he added, quieter still. His feelings didn’t make sense to him but he knew he was doing the bare minimum for her anyway. “ - it doesn’t do well for the Muggleborns who get close to magic. She's in a bad place already. And clearly, she needs this job and a place to stay.”
Even without looking, Ron could feel the eyes of the Auror bore into him. He waited, knowing instinctively that he would get some answers.
“From what I have seen in all my years, some bits of magic are too powerful,” James said at last, almost to himself. “Some bonds too strong to be held back by man-made contraptions.”
Ron looked up to find the Auror reaching out and holding his wife’s hands in his, the pad of his thumb gently ran over her knuckles. “- that’s when the suppressant bands fail to hold it all in.” He exhaled looking like a tired, helpless man. “These manifest as cracks of Magic - something similar to what you experienced.” His voice, Ron noticed, became grim. “If it ever happens near a Muggleborn, the Ministry levels up the spells on the suppressants for all.”
“For all?!” he gasped aloud.
“Yes. All.”
“Don’t they try to -”
“Muggleborns are real witches and wizards. We have forced them under spells; it’s against Nature itself. The Ministry fears it - our world cannot afford to have its ways challenged. The best and the only way to do it is -”
“By suppressing the non-Purebloods,” Ron added bitterly.
The air hung heavy around them as Ron struggled to keep himself afloat, guilt gnawing his insides. He would be at the heart of this very evil system, he would continue to add brick and mortar to this world that was built over the bones and lives of many like Mrs Potter and Hermione.
“The bands… what happens to the wearer?” he managed to ask. Morbid curiosity edging him on to identify the limit of the horrors.
“It makes the wearer weaker,” James provided, his voice restrained but barely hiding tones of helplessness and anger. “We don’t even know the extent of the damage - Muggleborns have no healthcare rights.”
Fuck… He knew that but hearing it aloud made it more real. His breathing grew heavy, thick with anger and guilt. His thoughts went back to the moments in the library once again.
“Wait - is this like a Trace? Would it have alerted the Ministry?” he asked hurriedly although a part of him reasoned that - had it triggered an alarm, the repercussions would have started.
James watched him, pondering. “The Mansion is a hotbed of magic - it must have gotten buried, or -” he looked intently at Ron as if trying to fit in bits of a puzzle, “your Magic hid hers from getting tracked.”
Ron gave a small nod, exhaling; the tightness in his chest eased a tiny bit.
It didn’t make sense but somehow the thought of Hermione weak and struggling made something odd twist in his heart.
“You won’t report this, will you?” he asked, the plea slipping into his words.
James poured him some more tea while Lily offered him her home-made biscuits. “Of course we won’t. Not unless you want us to.”
—--------------
Part 2: Brown eyes
“If you keep hogging all my time, people will start assuming we are together.”
Ron crashed heavily on Harry’s bed and folded his arms under his head. Harry threw the basketball which fell neatly into the basket fixed on the opposite wall and bounced back to him. “Imagine the scandal,” the bloke laughed.
“Yeah - what horror - a Pureblood with a Half-blood,” scoffed Ron, dryly.
“Of course,” Harry in-toned, Ron thought there was a slight hint of dejection, but Harry, who was perched on his desk, threw another basket and as the ball bounced back, Ron sat up and grabbed it deftly. Shooting the ball through the hoop a couple of times, he threw the ball back at Harry and lay down once again. The Muggle game was called Basketball, even without any magical elements, Ron was sure he'd enjoy it a lot.
Harry’s room was light and breezy, and as messy as a teenager bloke’s space could be- a teenager who didn’t have staff cleaning up behind him. It looked well lived, quite unlike his which was kept perfect and neat at all times. He preferred his school dorm more.
“I’ve never seen you so invested in someone,” Harry mused aloud. “Why are you so bothered?”
“I -” he inhaled deeply. Exactly… Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? “I’m not quite sure,” he added at last. “Maybe I really am bored and have nothing better to do -” he added, but then thought of the piles of scrolls he still needed to review. Legal books he still needed to read and the meetings that were lined up before he left for school.
“I thought your dad was keeping you busy,” Harry inquired, as if reading his thoughts.
“Yeah - I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes me work even during school, calls me back on some days to attend meetings,” he scoffed bitterly.
“You really don’t enjoy this, do you?”
“You filled the form to get into Auror Academy, didn’t you?” Ron asked instead.
“Yeah, heard from them a couple of days back. It’ll be hard work and I really need to ace my N.E.W.Ts but I’m kinda looking forward to it,”
Ron smiled and looked away embarrassed when Harry’s brows scrunched, noticing the longing he couldn’t hide. “It would really be so amazing if I could too,” he added.
“You could talk to your dad, y’know,” Harry added. “It’d be amazing if we could both do it together.
“Doesn’t work that way, Harry,” Ron replied. He had long accepted it, but sometimes he longed for the life he could have had if the family name didn't weigh so heavily on his shoulders. His dad was just - all the boys had picked domains that worked with their strengths. It added more value to the extensive family businesses - it was a win-win for all. And yet, Ron struggled to find himself in a world that had decided his life for him - an extremely privileged life which made him even more miserable. He really had no right to complain, did he?
“Isn’t Ginny getting into professional Quidditch?” Harry's voice broke through his musings.
Ron turned on his side, resting his head on his arms. “She is the first girl in seven generations. Dad will rewrite the laws books for her if he has to.”
“And he won’t do that for you?”
“I’ll sound pathetic if I reply to that.”
The smell from the kitchen wafted up and Ron realised he was hungry. He looked at Harry and his packed rucksack that the bloke hadn’t bothered to open at all. It would really be good to have Harry around before they went back to school.
“Ginny is waiting for you to come down," he told his best mate. "The twins will be home tonight; we can have a match tomorrow.”
Harry smiled, looking a little goofy for reasons he couldn’t fathom. “She plays damn well,” he added before jumping off the desk and busying himself with his broom service kit. "Still don't get it, why are you so invested in that girl, Ron?” Harry asked as he began polishing his broom carefully. The Firebolt, a gift from Sirius, had Harry’s name engraved on the handle in silver.
“They brought her into the Wizarding World -” Ron replied, thinking aloud. “I’m not sure of their intentions, but I know one thing- this ain't a goodwill gesture.”
Even if his life was predesigned - Ron had privileges others could only dream of. Hermione, on the other hand, was being controlled by people and laws who didn't even care about her safety or well-being. And he was a part of that fucked up system too. Guilt gnawed his insides as he remembered that curly head of hair, and the soft pair of eyes that held a quiet strength behind them.
“You heard Dad,” Harry emphasised, “It was a legal hire, your father didn’t do anything illegal.”
“Yes, because he got the rules rewritten,” he scoffed. “The definition of legal changes when the ones with power have the authority to manipulate laws at will.”
Harry watched him curiously for a while. “Y’know what, Ron? I’m actually glad that you will lead the legal team for the Weasley empire. Hang in there, mate, you’ll do some good to this world.”
Ron laughed, a sad and bitter one. “Will I? Or will this world turn me into one of them?”
His thoughts drifted back to a pair of brown eyes and he was sure he imagined the tingle of magic on his fingertips.
Well, he had to try at least, innit?