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Vera The draught was made, the deed was done, and the letters were in neat piles by his bedside. It was all so easily done, this ending of a life...but it had gone on to long. James would forgive him in time. He closed his eyes as he drank and all he could see was Arabella's mischievous smile and Remus' winking eyes. "Oh. Oh!" Hermione stared wide-eyed into the sink. The test stared back. "Oh, sweet Merlin." Stunned into a rare silence, she backed out of the small room slowly and made her way downstairs where Regulus was sipping his first cup of tea and reading the newspaper. "Good morning, luv." He gave her a quick smile before returning back to his paper. Stiffly, she went to stove and poured her own cup of solace. Slowly, she sat at the table and stared blankly at the wall. "All right, what is it? You look positively ill." "I...I...I'm pregnant." Regulus stared at her in stunned silence for a long moment. And then he let out a whoop of joy. In a quick move, he pulled her from her chair and spun her around the room, laughing all the while. His happiness was contagious and soon she was giggling too, their whole house shook with gales of laughter. The wedding was only a month away and now it couldn't come a moment too soon. "We're going to be a real family, aren't we?" "Oh, yes!" She hugged him hard. It was a new beginning and the day outside was fresh with promise. Maybe the world was salvageable after all. The shower was supposed to have calmed him down. Ron was still standing on the sluice of hot water, petting the wonder that had just occurred. Since the war had ended...no, since before even that. Since Blaise had coughed out his last bloodied breath in his trembling arms, Ron hadn't thought much of sex at all. In fact, he hadn't had so much of a stirring in his nether regions in over a year. And now, the evidence was clear beneath his fingers that something had broken that unprecedented stretch. Merlin knew what. Ron had learned long ago that his cock had a mind of its own. Instead of analyzing, he decided to just take advantage of it. Perhaps a good orgasm would leave him weak enough to sleep, easing his mind of uncomfortable thoughts. He found the demanding rhythm he'd always preferred on himself. It didn't take long with his long period of abstinence, a final tug on the silver ring looped on the end was enough to bring him to a body-shaking end. The shower tiles flickered into view. Huh, he thought, it's moldier in here then I.... And then it flickered back to blackness. "What the fuck?" It sunk in slowly. He had seen. His eyes, however briefly had worked. Somehow the force of his orgasm had triggered something. The muscle spasms... Delirious with joy, he groped his way out of the bathroom and down the hall. He knew that Snape's bedroom was within though he had never gone in. Courtesy had left his vocabulary and he slammed open the door. "Snape! It's a fucking muscle! A muscle!" "mfgshk...whatinbloodyhell..." "The whole fucking time we've been thinking my eyes are so much silver jelly and they're still there! And functioning!" "Lumos. What are you babbling about you idiot.....why are you naked!" Ron felt a hot flash of embarrassment flush his whole body, but didn't let that deter him. "The Silver Sight isn't a curse! That's why the books don't talk of any one getting hexed with it. It's all workable! You just need to strengthen the muscle. People weren't trying to figure out what caused it to stop it! They were trying to replicate it!" "And how did you figure this out!" "Complete muscle spasm! I saw for about...oh, three or four seconds. But that was enough. Do you have a stimulant around here? I could probably copy the results..." "I will agree to help you, even though it is an unseemly hour of the night, on one condition." "Yes, sir?" Ron fairly vibrated with anticipation. "Go put some bloody clothes on, heathen." Blushing, he turned to go, but not before he glanced back at the bed. There was a muddy, sleepy curiosity from Draco and....low boiling anger, the remains of happy sleepiness and a lazy swirl of lust coming from Snape. Hands on the wall to return to his room, Ron's mind bubbled with confusion and excitement. Clothing on and emotions temporarily forgotten, they worked well past dawn, replicating Ron's discovery. It would take several more days to pinpoint the exact blend that would exercise the muscle until Ron could control it, but it was a tremendous leap. By the time they were both ready to collapse back into bed, Ron had his sight back for six seconds at a time, long enough to make out thinning shadows. "Thank you. Oh, Merlin thank you." Ron gushed and in his fervor, he threw his arms around the bony potions master. "Yes, well, fame and all that....." He made no attempt to break away, but stood stiff as a board. "Git." Ron mumbled affectionately and without warning laid a soft kiss on thin lips. "Good night." He didn't need Silver Sight to feel Snape's confusion or hear his heart race. We're all of us broken, he thought as he settled into his empty bed, but perhaps we don't have to be alone too. After a moment's pause, Snape returned to his own bed to find Draco already beginning his morning routine. "Good morning, Papa." "Mm." He shucked off his over robe and climbed into bed. "Papa?" "Mm?" "Why does Ron have an earring in his penis?" For the first time in memory, Snape ignored his son and pulled the covers over his head. The announcement came that evening, eliminating any hopes Ron might have had of talking to either Percy or Snape. Instead, he was shuffling through his wardrobe, commanding the items to speak, hoping to find something left black in his wardrobe. Silent, angry tears coursed down his face, which he blithely ignored. He hadn't known Sirius that well, only seen him around the Potters' over long hot summers. He had been nice enough, but life had kicked him around a lot and to a kid still innocent to the ugliness of loss, Ron hadn't thought much of him. But death had become such a regular visitor and every new one reminded him of the last. Each funeral was a hard throbbing echo of all those that came before. He let the tears fall, ignoring each drop even as he found and wrestled into his remaining black outfit. It was his battle gear, but it would be fitting enough. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Harry came similarly attired as well as some of those who had worked under Sirius command. "Ready then?" Snape asked gruffly from the door. "Suppose." He wiped half-heartedly at his face. "Merlin." And before Ron could react there was a soft brush of fingertips on his cheek that ended as swiftly as it began. "This certainly wasn't in the books." "What? Am I turning colors?" "In a manner of speaking." The wonder flowed from Snape. "Your tears are silver. It doesn't seem to be affecting the Sight itself. Whatever this substance really is, it's in your tear ducts." "Weird. Think we can skip the funeral and experiment with it?" He sniffed hopefully. Snape paused as if it was something he was actually contemplating. "Albus will be there." He said regretfully. "He made me promise to come." "If he told you to jump off a bridge would you?" "What type of ridiculous question is that?" "Dunno, actually. My mom used to ask Charlie that all the time when he did stupid stunts with his friends." He blew his nose in a ripped up glove he found in one pocket. "Well, it's patently ridiculous." A short pause. "Enough dithering. We've a funeral to attend." Where Harry had had no issue holding Ron tightly to him as they flooed, Snape seemed content to wrap one arm around his shoulders. And for some reason, it felt intensely more intimate. They landed in an abandoned cottage and Snape wasted no time in dragging Ron through the graveyard. "Wait." He froze suddenly. There was a scent in the breeze. Something so familiar that he could not ignore it. Carefully, he stumbled away from Snape tracing the scent. When the heavy smell of ginger became concentrated, he sank to his knees, fingers finding the headstone and traced the letters. It was the right one. "Blaise Zabini." Snape was behind him and Ron nodded slowly. "I enchanted the grave to grow ginger root and amplify the smell. He used it to cook everything. When we were on missions together, I always brought extra canteens. " He snorted. "And naturally, he took to calling me Ginger. I thought it was fitting." "I hadn't realized you two were close." "I buried him alone." He sighed, bitterness long since passed. "He was a hero, but his parents considered him a traitor. There were others there, but it was in the height of the war and many who liked him were dead long before...." "You were very close then." The tears were gone for now, but his breath hitched any way. "He was the closest thing I've had to love." With an affectionate pat on the headstone and another deep, reassuring breath of ginger, he rose and brushed the dirt from black leather. "You don't seem.... heart broken." "I said closest, not was. We were good together and if he had lived.... but he didn't. So I let go. I'll always miss him, but he'd pissed if he knew I spent my life pining for him." "Ah." Snape cleared his throat and Ron was startled to find a tight wave of relief coming off the man. "Shall we off then or are there others here you'd wish to visit?" "None today..." He curled a gentle finger around his left ear, six earrings clicked together. "I have them all with me." They walked on in silence, one of Snape's bony hands tucked gently under Ron's left elbow. As soon as they came close to the site, Ron felt his headache rise. He sucked in a breath as collective mourning hit him at full force. Two months of being sheltered in the dungeon had undone all his carefully built up tolerance. "Are you all right?" Was the concerned hiss in his ear. He nodded vaguely. "Ron?" His father quickly enveloped him in a hard hug. A vague sadness transferred over, but it was overwhelmed by anxiety. "How are things progressing?" "We made a large discovery only yesterday." He reassured. "And will you come home when you're done? Your Mother is sure that you're starving to death..." "I.... I don't know." He pulled away, his fingers searching for Snape's helping hand and finding it. "It may be a while..." "I see." Was the tight reply. "Just remember to write more often." "Yes, sir." He said dutifully. When his father was gone, he heaved a sigh of relief. "It would appear your father would do well to hear the same speech you gave me last night." Snape commented wryly. "He's heard it. Four times from four different offspring. Still hasn't stuck. Mum isn't around is she?" "No. It is...a rather poor turn out, all things considered. The Potters, your father and I believe either William or Charles...." "Burn mark on the left hand?" "No." "That's Bill then. Who else?" "A few Aurors...friends of the late Ms.Figgs, I believe. Ms. Granger and Mr. Black's brother... that seems to be all." "Oh, I should probably say hello to 'Mione." But he made no attempt to move. The graveyard seemed saturated in sorrow and he wanted nothing more then to stand by Snape who's emotions were quiet and familiar. "I'm sure that once you are in her sights, there will be no escape." "How do you know that?" "She reminds me of Minerva." It almost sounded like a compliment. Luck was with him and the service started before Hermione could fight her way to his side. It was Albus who spoke the simple wizard traditions over the grave and who threw the first symbolic handful of dirt. Everyone present followed his lead and when all had littered the coffin with earth, they chanted the covering spell together, leaving the grave level with the others around it. The Potters were hosting the Life Celebration at their home, but Ron had no desire to finish the day entrapped in conversation with one of the other mourners. Harry came over and they spoke softly for a few minutes. They hugged and parted ways. Hermione did catch up with him and there among the gravestones told him about the baby. "That's....wow. Oh, wow, 'Mione!" He hugged her, lifting her clear off the ground. "Ron! You're just as bad as Regulus. Any one would think you were the father." "I once came damn close...." "Hush now, that was a long time ago. Of course we want you to be the godfather." "What...but...Harry?" "Harry's far too busy these days. And besides, you know he'll have his own family just as soon as he can." "Are you implying that I won't?" "Ron...." Her agitation hit like a ton of bricks. "I'm just taking the piss. I'd be happy to be the little bugger's godfather." "Good!" "Hermione? Are you ready to go? Hello, Ron." "Regulus. Congratulations! Am I to assume the wedding is going to go on as planned?" "Of course." They shook hands and Ron put just enough squeeze in it to make up for the fact he couldn't stare the man down. "Ronald Weasley!" 'Mione scolded after he released Regulus. "I'd thank you not to break the father of my child." "Yes, Ms. Granger." He replied meekly. "I'll just go find my escort." "Oh, Ron." They hugged again and he inhaled the soft lavender smell of her. She was going to be a great mother. And the brainy fuzzy child would be his to steal on weekends and spoil absolutely rotten. It sounded glorious. "Hello, Professor." Hermione greeted upon releasing him. "Ms. Granger, Mr. Black. If you'll excuse us, Ronald and I have research to do." He spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. If Ron had tried to back out of the ceremony by himself, Hermione would have scolded him roundly then dragged him there by his ear. As they beat their hasty retreat, Ron let the day hit him completely. The overwhelming emotions crashed through him, leaving his knees week and his head aching. When they landed in the cool embrace of the dungeon, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hurried to shuck off the battle robes and curl into a well-worn green jumper and a pair of frayed jeans. Once upon a time, he had slept, ate and fought in those black leathers and now.. he threw them to the back of his closet. He never wanted to wear them again. "Ron?" "What is it Drake?" He found himself in surprise hug for the umpteenth time that day. "What was that for?" "You looked like you needed it." The release was by stages and by the time they were fully separated, he felt worlds better. "There's some lunch. Come on." Percy had intended to go to Sirius' funeral, if for no other reason then that the man had been a war veteran and one of the few in the Order who knew of his spy life. Yet when he woke up this morning, he discovered he wasn't going anywhere. It was the worst attack ever. His heart pounded raggedly for nearly twenty minutes and the glass shards in his veins were sharper and dug in deeper then ever before. It left him drenched sweat and clutching for purchase against the soaked sheets. When he felt sufficiently recovered, he took a long shower. Dried and dressed, he sat in the window, a book of Auden's poetry on his lap and watching the sun sink. Darkness blanketed the room and he stood, stretched and moved quietly through the house. Flooing into the dungeon eased the last hard clutches at his heart. "...but if the properties are the same then theoretically, I could wipe it off on someone and they would have Sense. Why didn't anyone else figure this out?" "Sight is the least common....perhaps, no one discovered the property. I'm not convinced that this will give any one the Sense...." "They've been at this for hours." Draco appeared at his side. "Checkers?" "All right." He grinned at the younger man. The white-gold beauty beamed back, gray eyes warm with feeling. A part of him wanted Draco quite desperately. He could freely admit that the strange innocence tangled with the brilliant mind of a master were extremely attractive. In the long years since Hogwarts, there had been no one in Percy's life. There was no blaming it on his hectic wartime life, if anything it had been easier to find someone to share your bed when death waited in every dawn. He'd simply cut himself off from that part of his life. His Hogwarts' sweetheart hadn't even made it through the end of her training. A particularly nasty mistake during a mock duel saw her in a grave two years before Percy signed up as a spy. And Draco was a child in a man's body. A beautiful body to be sure, but still incongruous with the mind it housed. He doubted that Draco could ever leave Hogwarts, let alone be in an adult relationship. "Percy, your turn." Draco drew him back and soon they were once more engaged in another checkers battle. The blond played so fiercely and with so much thought that it was rarely a fair game. "I am teaching you chess." Percy threatened as the younger man easily took another game. "I can deanimate the board." "But..." Grey eyes widened. "You obviously have enough skill at checkers to do just fine at something new and I can soothe my injured pride by actually beating you at something for a while." "Only a while?" "You'll be winning in no time." And it was true. There was no way Draco wouldn't be an excellent chess player. "Drake beat you again?" Ron entered, clicking his tongue. "You're lucky I haven't told Dad. He'd be so ashamed." "Like to see you beat him." "Sorry. Never saw the board." He threw him a wayward grin before curling into his usual spot on the couch. "Could probably play a fairly decent bit of chess though." "Play you? Do I look stupid? Eye sight or no, you haven't lost a game since Mom agreed to join the family tournament six years ago." "That woman is a menace on a chess board." The grin widened. "But I guess you're right. I haven't gotten to play in a while anyway. Hermione gave up in fourth year." "Your arrogance never ceases to amaze me." Snape drawled from the doorway. "At least it's rooted in truth." "You only keep winning because you've been playing simpering idiots." "And I suppose you'll put me in my place?" "Mmmm." Percy and Draco watched the exchange wide eyed. "You know, I think I can deanimate your board, Professor." Percy offered. "I wanted to teach Draco with it, anyway." It was swiftly done and two powerful opponents faced off. Ron's amazing grasp of the game mechanics easily allowed for his handicap. He could move the pieces through vocal commands which Percy had left in place and keep the board structure in his head. Snape took every advantage. It was an intensely interesting game... or would have been had they not each spent twenty minutes contemplating every move. Draco fell asleep with his head in Percy's lap and the older man felt his own eyelids grow heavy by the time Ron cried out a triumphant, "Check and mate!" "Blast." Snape scowled at the board. "How did you do that?" "Family secret." Was the mysterious reply. "Bullshit. Dad told it to me and it hasn't helped my game any." Percy stretched carefully, unwilling to dislodge his companion. "Besides, you never do the same thing twice." "Mmm. That's what you think." He rose, cracking his back. "Could I talk to you before you leave? There are a few things I need from home." Snape took his cue, mustering a sleepy Draco from the couch and herding him to their bedroom. Ron took his place next to his brother. "What is it then?" "I talked to Draco a few nights ago..."He sighed. "And I thought this was going to be a really different speech then at the beginning of this evening." "What are you talking about?" "Draco...he's in love with you, Percy and I'm beginning to see that that feeling may not be wholly unreturned." "What? But...he can't love me." "Why not?" Ron demanded. "A million and one reasons....he's practically a child for one!" "He's not and you know it. You know what he's capable of..." "I didn't say he wasn't capable. Hell, he could take over the wizarding world with some of the things he's been tinkering with. But his emotions are so regressed..." "No more then yours." Ron returned tartly. "You've not had a decent talk with anyone since you were five." "That's not true." "Oh come off it, Percy. What's the real reason you've got your knickers in a twist?" He shook his head. " I can see how you feel, I know you love him." "That's not the point!" The older man jumped from his place on the couch and paced restlessly. "Love doesn't conquer all." "He's as much of an adult as you and I are. So feed me another. What else is so problematic?" "Fuck, Ron. Just leave it." "Percival J. Weasley! I will not just leave it.... There's been so little happiness going around lately, I just don't understand why you won't take yours!" "BECAUSE I'M DYING!" The silence was deafening. "What?" "Bloody fucking hell." The couch sagged again. "I didn't mean to...shit." "How can you be dying?" Not again, oh sweet Merlin. Hadn't they lost enough? "It's a hex. When Voldemort was cornered at the very end, he figured someone must have betrayed him so he hexed the lot us who were there in the end. Most of them died in the last battles anyway, but the rest... If I had taken the Mark, I'd be dead by now. Luckily, Snape convinced him that I was more valuable as a spy without it." An aggravated breath of air. "It's given me a few more months. But the attacks are longer now and stronger. " "Haven't you tried to get a cure?" "I've been to every specialist I could find. Six months of searching." "You son of a bitch. You came home to die on us." Ron spat vehemently. "You would have lingered about for a few more months and told us when?" "I figured about when the spasms got to bad." He put in lamely. "It seemed like the right idea at the time." "I'm going to tell Mom and Dad if you don't." Ron warned. "They deserve to know." "All right." "And Draco." "No!" "Percy.... I'd give anything for a few months of happiness. Would you deprive him of that? At least give him and yourself that." "You..." The anger drained out of the older man all at once as Ron knew it would. Of all of them, Percy was the easiest to calm because he was most often irritated. The rest of them were volcanoes, deceptively calm then erupting in an endless violent flow. "That silver shit's given you a real gift you know." "Yeah, I guess. Are we going to hug now?" They did, briefly and slightly awkwardly. As they pulled away, Ron cast a glance to the doorway. No one there...but a lingering feeling of his own. "I'd best be going home." The elder man stood in disjointed motion. "Mum and Dad will still be awake, I think." "Good." The soft touch caught him unaware. "What about you?" "What about me?" The hoarse choking laugh briefly filled the room. "Nothing...nothing at all." And then he was alone. next part last part << |