The Definition of Inappropriate | By : starstruck86 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Ron Views: 3177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from these writings. |
A/N:
Alright. So. I said that I was done for a while with Ron and Severus, and am
now well aware this story might make me a fibber. I don’t care! The muses woke
up again and virtually I commanded that I wrote this, and set the wheels in
motion for my next one, too. And by hell did I get emotional writing this. I
feel bad for what I made happen, I’m a cruel fanfiction mistress, it would
seem.
To understand this you really WILL
need to have read my other work under my UN. There is smut in this but once again it’s taken a
bit of a backseat, though I think the guys make up for it right at the end.
Please review if you feel so inclined, I really do love reading your comments.
Thanks to all who reviewed the last one shot and loved the introduction of the
puppy. :- D
----------
The weather
hadn’t really picked up in the few days since Christmas, sheet after sheet of
icy rain kept hitting the ground, drenching the country in endless grey. As Ron
stood looking out at it in the kitchen, hand curled round a mug of soup, he
longed for the sun to come back. He knew he’d always been a moody sod, as his
mother often put it, but ever since his attack he had had to fight extremely
hard not to give in to the strains of depression which tugged, constantly (it
felt like), at his mind.
He fought
it not just because he knew it’d be a massive setback for him to not do so, but
because of Severus, sitting in the other room, already prone to depressive
periods himself. Ron knew if he were to give himself over to the pain, they’d
be on a one way jaunt to destruction.
“Seriously,”
Severus’ voice came from behind him and he turned to look. “Soup belongs in a
bowl, not a mug.”
Ron rolled
his eyes. “Soup belongs in whatever vessel I put it in. What’s that?”
He looked
at the letter in Severus’ hand. “It just came through the fire, for you,”
Severus passed it to him, before turning and putting the kettle on to boil.
Instantly,
Ron knew the letter in his hand was bad news. He set down his mug and slowly
opened it, as if that would put off the bad news it might contain. Unfolding
the parchment, he swallowed, cursing inwardly as he saw the Ministry crest and
official gold lettering.
He read it
quickly, stomach turning cold, before folding it back up and stuffing it back
in the envelope. Now the weather seemed right. A sunny day would have been
totally wrong for what the letter wanted of him. He picked up his mug again and
walked into the living room, leaving the letter on the side, to throw himself
down on the sofa next to his puppy, George, who sleepily clambered into his
lap, sensing that his comforting skills were needed. Ron miserably pressed his
face into his fur and closed his eyes. He heard Severus ruffling the parchment
open in the kitchen, a low grumble as he read the words, and then the parchment
being put back in the envelope, then footsteps. Ron didn’t look up.
Severus sat
down next to them and, after waiting to see if Ron would speak first, said,
“You’ve been waiting for that, haven’t you?”
“Mm,” Ron
answered into George’s fur, fingers burning where his hand was still clasped
around the soup mug.
“It has to
be done, you have to give the scum what he deserves. If you testify you’ll get
his sentence in Azkaban pushed to life.”
“Is that
meant to comfort me?” Ron finally pulled his face up, and Severus was surprised
that it was completely dry.
“It would comfort plenty of people.”
“Well, not
me,” Ron shook his head, now fixing his eyes on the fireplace. “I just… want to
forget it.”
“Forgetting
it doesn’t get justice done,” Severus said firmly. “He deserves life in that
hell hole for what he put you through.”
Ron didn’t
answer him but kept looking at the fireplace, one hand round the mug and the
other stroking George’s head absentmindedly.
“You can’t
seriously tell me you’re happy to let him get off with the twenty year sentence
they’re handing out to the captured Death Eaters?” Severus tried again. I’d fucking kill them, personally. Twenty
years isn’t good enough.
Ron still
remained silent and Severus felt impatience tugging at him. He was failing to
understand how someone who had had their life nearly ended by a man could feel
remorseful about having the chance to get his vengeance on the man in question.
For him, there wasn’t even a question mark. It was a given. “Don’t you want him
to suffer for what he did to you?”
When no
answer came yet again, Severus closed his eyes and counted to ten in English
and backwards again in Italian, trying to bat away his temper. And then he
remembered that Ron had requested oh-so-recently that he didn’t hold back.
“Well I think you’re being stupid,” he opened his eyes and spoke frankly. “You
should testify and get him put away for the rest of his miserable life.”
“Like
someone could have done to you?” Ron answered finally, looking over at him with
burning eyes. “Like someone could have piped up and fought Dumbledore and had
you put behind bars for the rest of your life?”
Severus
fell silent.
“Yeah,
quite,” Ron snapped, and dragged his eyes back to the fireplace.
“Is that
what this is about? My past?” Severus asked incredulously. “It’s exactly that,
Ron, the past.”
“Is it the
past though?” Ron didn’t look at him.
“What do
you mean?” Severus gestured with his hands that he was confused.
“Say I go
up in front of the Wizengamot,” Ron said quietly. “I testify. I give my
evidence. And then, someone asks me when my relationship with you started.
Before or after I left school? ‘Did he touch you inappropriately?’ And then,
when they’ve started digging through our dirty washing, they could easily turn
around and ask me whether I thought you were still working for Voldemort. And
then, they could drag up your old case, where it’s proved you were a Death
Eater. One look at your bloody arm will tell them that. And then, they’ll
remember everything from before… and your sudden attachment to the “youngest
Weasley boy” looks even odder, considering he’s Harry Potter’s best friend. And
then, they’ll look further. And then they will ask the captured Death Eaters,
who have nothing to lose and are full of malice in their Azkaban cells, whether
you were actively involved in the plan to hurt me. And then, Severus, then it
would be incredibly easy for them to drag you into the Wizengamot on trumped up
charges, and put you behind bars… and don’t think I haven’t heard the whispers
about execution for the worst crimes. So no, Severus, the thought of testifying
isn’t exactly thrilling me with joy.”
Ron gulped
down a mouthful of soup leaving Severus sitting stunned. Stunned purely because
he hadn’t thought of the possible situation, and with his intelligence, he knew
he should have. A sick feeling took
hold of his stomach and he swallowed.
“We both
know they’re going to get sentencing happy,” Ron continued. “They’ll throw
anyone behind bars who even sneezed in Voldemort’s presence just to be sure
their perfect haven isn’t jeopardised. And we both know you’ve done an awful
lot more than sneeze in the same room as Voldemort.”
Another
truth. Oh Merlin I can’t believe I’ve not
thought of any of this.
“I don’t
presume for a second that the authority of Albus Dumbledore and the fact that
half of my family work for the Ministry will be enough to sway any vote in your
favour.” Ron went on, seemingly unable to shut himself up now he’d started. “We
all know there are those who will want you behind bars purely because they
don’t trust you.”
Panic
actually started to creep into Severus’ veins before he could curb it. His
heart accelerated as he accepted Ron’s words with fear and horror.
“I suppose
this is the one time where veritaserum will actually come in handy,” Ron said
softly. “They’ll at least have your truth from that.”
“You have
my truth,” Severus burst out, as another wave of fear crashed over him. “Ron
please tell me you’re not considering that-”
“Of course
I’m not,” Ron looked back at him with a stricken face. “Of course I know you
had nothing to do with it. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
Unable to
keep the distance between them, Severus put his arm around Ron’s shoulder and
levitated the mug of soup out of his hands and onto the sideboard. He rested
his head against Ron’s and sunk his hand into George’s fur, feeling the steady
heartbeat of the dog beneath his fingertips. Ron kissed his forehead and
sighed.
“I’ve been
waiting for that for a few weeks. Dad said they’d started sending them out.”
“Did you
talk to him about your concerns?”
Ron nodded.
“He told me to do what I was happy with. He’s convinced Malfoy will get more
than twenty years anyway, without my help, because he also confessed to enough
Muggle torture to possibly get him executed. He said that if I was worried that
it would incriminate you, to testify in
absentia and leave it at that, or not press charges at all.”
“Did he
give you his own opinion?”
“He told me
that personally, he would testify out of session and say that I wasn’t pressing
charges and that I wanted no part in the trial other than my statement. Then
Fred and George overheard and told me I would be insane not to use my chance
for revenge.”
“Up until
five minutes ago, I agreed with them,” Severus breathed, closing his eyes at
his own stupidity.
“But not
any more?” Ron probed him.
“I don’t
want to put you through that. And I don’t want to go to Azkaban. And I
certainly don’t want to die.”
“So if I do
what my dad says, and just make my statement out of session and refuse any
other part, you’ll support me?”
Severus
nodded instantly and kissed Ron’s cheek. “One hundred percent.”
“Thank
you,” he sensed Ron physically deflate with the gratitude, as though he had
been continuously swelling with the worry. “And what if they contact you
wanting a testimony?”
“I will do
the same,” Severus breathed, “And point them in the direction of Harry and
Remus for references of what happened on September the first.”
“They might
not take it,” Ron raised his eyebrows. “One a friend of you, the other of me,
signed witnesses at our bonding on Ministry records.”
What is WRONG with you, Severus?!
He’s stripping ahead of you in everything. YOU SHOULD BE THE ONE FIGURING THIS
OUT.
“Well there
are other witnesses, your family for one, they can testify to the strength of
our relationship and their belief in my innocence.”
“See what I
mean? It’s just one big long web, drawn out, everyone’s ensnared because we’re
all so bloody inbred,” Ron’s frustration got the better of him. “There’s nobody
not implicated, nobody without a motive or an alibi… it’s a fucking mess.” He
hung his head miserably.
Severus
kissed his cheek, able to shove aside his fear to be able to comfort Ron. “We
will figure it out, and we’ll get through it. Don’t worry.”
Ron didn’t
look up and his face was closer to despair than Severus had seen him in a long
time, not since the days he was fitting on the hospital bed. “George, off,” he
gently nudged the dog, and reached down and tapped the floor.
Ever
obedient despite his young age, the puppy uncurled itself, licked Severus’ hand
and jumped onto the floor, sleepily plodding to the cupboard under the stairs
which he had turned into his own little den. Severus immediately pulled Ron
closer to him, any closer and he would have been sitting in his lap, but that
would have been too childlike for such a solemn moment. He sank a hand into his
auburn hair and whispered, “I know you just want to forget. I understand.”
“Severus?”
Ron mumbled, his eyes closed, knowing what he was about to say would hurt. “You
don’t understand.”
Here we go, teen melodrama time. Oh,
shit. That was nasty.
“You think
I don’t know what it’s like to want to forget something horrible happening to
you?” Severus answered him quietly. “I might not be able to empathise with the
finer points of what you experienced, but you know enough to know I most
certainly do know what it’s like to want to forget. So much you’d die to
forget.”
Ron
flinched unwittingly, his turn to be hurt in the exchange in his insensitivity to
Severus’ past. Severus didn’t pull away, however, just kept him close, stroking
his hair.
They sat in
silence for a few minutes, each thinking on what they should say, but both
drawing blanks. Finally Ron turned his face to Severus’ and simply kissed him
softly on the mouth in a request for forgiveness, which Severus instantly
granted him by kissing him back. Ron twisted and straddled Severus where they
sat, kissing down into his face with his arms wrapped around his neck, somewhat
desperately.
“They can’t
separate us,” Ron murmured into his mouth. “They can’t, can they? We’re
married.”
Severus
swallowed and looked at him. “They could if they had an arrest warrant for
either of us. You fight against that and you just make yourself look guilty.”
“Could they
get one?” Ron’s lower lip actually trembled.
Severus
didn’t answer, just looked back with feeling eyes.
“Shit,” Ron
muttered, and buried his face in Severus’ neck to hide his upset.
“This could
all be worrying about nothing,” Severus pleaded with him. “They might not even
consider it; the Death Eaters might just keep their mouths shut. We might be
worrying about something that’ll never come to fruition.”
“Or we
could be worrying about something with the potential to turn into both our
worst nightmares,” Ron simply shrugged, and screwed up his face in fear against
the soft skin of the neck he was pressed against.
Severus
couldn’t argue with that. The thought of entering Azkaban and being at the
mercy of Dementors was something that had terrified him since he was old enough
to know what they were. It obviously hadn’t stopped him getting in with the
wrong crowd, but he was granted his absolution then. With a lurch of his
stomach he wondered if anything happened, if his game would finally be up.
Whether he’d have to leave the life they’d made for themselves behind and
retreat into a cold, dark cell, losing his mind and his memories and leaving
Ron to fend for himself.
“Fuck,” he
whispered, and suddenly found himself clutching Ron every bit as tightly as Ron
was clutching at him.
Another few
desperate minutes passed, sat there, each clinging to the other. “I should talk
to Albus,” Severus said finally. “If anyone will be able to help us, it’s
Albus, Ron.”
“He won’t
hold enough sway. They want to look heavy handed to send out the message to
everyone that they won’t be corrupted again like before. Nobody will be able to
help us.”
To try and
take his mind off such a depressing notion, Ron lifted his head and kissed
Severus again, with a new type of urgency. He put his hands in the raven hair
and curled his fingers around Severus’ scalp, breath hitching as he forced his
mouth upon him more insistently. He wanted this to end up in a desperate fuck
right there on the sofa –it was the only way they were going to keep their
heads above the water. He ground his hips forward and kissed again, holding his
head tighter as his hands began to shake.
Sex is your answer for everything. Severus smoothed his hands over
Ron’s shoulders and kissed him back, massaging his tongue against his. He tried
to turn and Ron guided him expertly sideways and onto his back, so he was
sitting above him before ducking down to be trapped in Severus’ arms. Their
legs were a messy tangle hanging painfully over the arm of the chair but
neither seemed to be bothered about moving them. Ron kissed again with passion
rivalling that of a man about to face a firing squad, and a jolt went through
him as he thought how close to reality that turn of phrase could actually be.
Unable to stop what he had set in motion, however, he continued the kiss,
trying to slow it to a passionate one,
without the fear in his heart.
He broke
away, only a millimetre or two, and tried to still the crazy rhythm his heart
was beating out against his chest. Severus looked at him with a look which told
him he was trying to do the same.
“I know sex
is your answer to everything,” Severus pleaded. “But I need to go and speak to
Albus. He must know… he must know what we could do if the situation were to
arise. I have to go, Ron.”
Knowing it
was a battle lost, Ron nodded and tumbled off him onto the floor ungracefully,
bones aching as he did so. He didn’t care; he’d practically turned to jelly
anyway. His heart just wouldn’t slow down. Severus stood up and straightened
his clothes before heading into the hallway for his shoes and jacket. Nerves
jangling, he walked back to Ron, still sprawled on the floor, breathing
heavily. He pulled him to his feet making his shoulder ache.
“Ron, listen to me. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out, alright?”
Ron just
looked at him.
“Alright?”
Ron shook
his head and finally said. “Go. And come back as soon as you can.”
Severus did
as he was told. He knew they were probably both mightily jumping the gun and
that the outcome was extremely unlikely to happen anyway, but neither would
rest until they’d found out their path forward. He walked to the fireplace and
thrust some powder in the flames. They shot green and he looked at Ron
desperately. “I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can.”
***
On arriving
at the fireplace in Albus Dumbledore’s office, Severus stepped out, calling out
to alert him to his presence.
“Severus?” Albus looked up at him from his desk, where he was surrounded by
papers. “Well. Truly, speak and he shall appear,” he sighed, and threw the paper
he was holding down on his desk.
As he
looked up, Severus immediately knew something was about to happen. He
recognised the Ministry crests on the papers and his heart leapt into his
mouth. “Albus, what’s happening?”
“What I
imagine you’ve come to talk to me about? I must confess I’m surprised it’s
taken you so long to realise it was a possibility.” Albus looked at him sadly.
“Please tell me it’s not a…”
“Death
sentence? Merlin no, Severus. But these are copies of all the arrest warrants
issued this morning. And this is yours.”
He pushed
the paper he’d been holding over and Severus picked it up with a shaking hand.
“For association?” his mouth fell open. “Association is enough to get you
arrested now?”
“It’s more
than that,” Albus shook his head. “If you read on, it says that allegations
have been made that you were still actively working for your old master at the
time of the attack on the Ministry. That implicates you knew what was going to
happen with Ron.”
“Who made
the allegation?” Severus’ hand shook even more as Ron’s predictions unravelled
entirely as truth before him.
“I’m not at
liberty to tell you.”
“That means
you don’t know,” Severus scoffed, throwing the paper down. “So what. Azkaban?”
“No.
Accusation with no proof at the moment. Holding cell in the Ministry. They’ve
given you a hearing date of January 9th.”
“Are you
joking?” Severus asked weakly.
“No. Not many people get to celebrate their fortieth birthday with a full party
in front of the Wizengamot, you should feel honoured.”
Severus threw
himself into the chair opposite Albus which he had occupied so many times in
his life. “What do I do?”
“You do
nothing. Be arrested, answer their questions honestly, take the veritaserum for
them. Everything you say will be the truth and that truth isn’t going to get
you convicted.”
“Albus,”
Severus shook his head. “Are you going to sit there and tell me that this
Ministry can’t be bought off as easily as the last one? That if someone wants
me put away, shoving a big pile of gold across a desk won’t make it happen?”
“We don’t
know enough yet to be thinking like that,” Albus said firmly. “And if they try
to put you away they’ll have me to contend with.”
“Are you
enough these days?” Severus asked bluntly, getting to his feet again.
“I certainly hope so. You should go back to Ron. They’ll be on your back at any
moment. Go home. I will promise you now you won’t be seeing the inside of a
cell in Azkaban whilst I’ve got anything to do with it, Severus. You’ve given
me everything and I have to repay you for it somehow.”
“Well don’t
forget you’ve already saved my neck once,” Severus strode to the fire and threw
the powder in at once. “Maybe you’ve already used up your power for this soul.”
“Don’t be negative,” was the last thing he heard, before he disappeared.
Stepping
into his own living room, he knew what he’d find. They must have arrived
seconds after he’d left. Ron barrelled into him and grabbed him fiercely. “Ron,
don’t panic,” he said automatically.
“Severus
Snape, we have the authority to arrest you and escort you immediately to
Ministry premises. Anything you speak now is counted as part of your statement
and could be used against you during your hearing,” one of the aurors spoke
quickly, moving forward.
Severus
dropped Ron and held his hands up. “I’ll come willingly.” He swallowed. “Ron,
don’t panic. We have nothing to hide. Is there the possibility of bail?” He
turned back to the auror.
“Automatically denied due to the nature of the
arrest,” she shook her head, somewhat sympathetically, he thought.
“I assumed
as much. I’m not coming back for a while then, I guess,” he said ruefully to
Ron, not really wanting to let on he’d been to Albus, and knew the hearing
date.
“Your
hearing date is set for the 9th of January.”
“His
fortieth birthday, are you kidding me?” Ron’s mouth fell open and his posture
stiffened, face reddening with anger.
“I don’t
make the dates,” The auror shrugged, definitely apologetic now.
Ron turned
to him with wet eyes and a look of desperation on his face. “Anything I can do,
I will do,” he said, before launching forward and passionately kissing Severus,
who returned the embrace, and the kiss, realising it would probably be their
last for a time.
“Don’t be
alone,” Severus begged, as they broke apart. “Take George and go and stay with
your family. Don’t be alone, don’t shut yourself off.”
“Don’t stop
loving me,” Ron asked of him, somewhat weakly, and finally backed off, crossing
his arms over his chest and biting his lip.
If he
thought anything that year had been painful, it was nothing compared to
watching to aurors cart his husband off through the fireplace to the Ministry
of Magic holding cells. His chest felt like it was going to burst.
“George!” He bellowed, striding into the hallway, jamming his feet into his
shoes and throwing on his jacket, grabbing the dog lead from the same hook his
coat had been on.
The dog was
by his side in seconds, looking scared. Ron realised he’d never shouted like
that for him before. He crouched down and clipped the lead on his collar,
whispering, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted. We need to go now, come on,”
he scooped him up in his arms and instantly turned into the spot for the
Burrow, knowing he couldn’t take George through the Floo with him.
He ran as
soon as his feet hit the ground, the rain instantly drenching him and George to
the skin. He slipped on some mud and only just managed to stay upright before
reaching the doormat and hammering on the door with his wet fist with
desperation. The door flew open and he staggered in, shaking uncontrollably.
“Ron, what
on earth’s the matter?” Arthur gaped at him, grabbing the puppy from his arms
as he saw what sort of state his son was in.
“They
j-just arrested S-s-s-s-ev…” was all he managed to get out before the fear
grabbed him properly.
“Arrested?”
Bill said, throwing his chair back, making the legs squeal on the stone floor.
“What on earth for?”
“Warrant
said association to Voldemort,” Ron shrugged out of his sopping jacket and
dropped it where he stood. “Severus… he…”
“Sit down,”
Bill guided Ron to a chair and performed a drying spell on his clothes.
“What on
earth is all the racket?” Molly came into the kitchen, eyes flying wide at the
sight of her son, pale, shaking, upset.
“This
morning the letter came calling me to testify against Malfoy,” Ron managed to
strengthen his voice. “We were talking, and he was pressuring me to testify and
I explained why I would be unwilling to do that, like I explained to Dad.”
“He told
us,” Molly sat down opposite him and took up her son’s cold hand.
“And we
just talked and it all became really clear how easy it would be for them to do
it. He went to speak to Dumbledore, to get advice. As soon as he left, two
aurors came through the fireplace and asked where he was, I told them he was
visiting a friend and would be back soon. He came back really quickly, so I’m
guessing Dumbledore already knew what was happening and sent him straight back
to me. They’ve arrested him, taken him to the Ministry holding cells and they
set a hearing date for the 9th of January.”
His lower
lip wobbled again. “No bail, either.”
“Oh Ron,”
Molly squeezed his hand. “There’s no proof. They’re just being overzealous.”
“No. It
said there had been an allegation made that he was still working for Voldemort
at the time of the attack… and therefore knew about what was going to happen to
me.”
“No man is
that good an actor,” Arthur said instantly. “No man can recreate the grief we
all saw when he first laid eyes on you.”
“They could
just say he didn’t know what was going to happen to me,” Ron tried to hold back
his tears. “They’ll say he agreed they could do stuff but not that they’d go
that far. They’ll twist it all up.”
Bill sat
down next to him and put an arm around Ron’s shoulders. “Stop torturing
yourself thinking about what might happen. Nothing might happen at all. They
might have just arrested him to look like they’re doing everything they can in
front of the general public. There are an army of witnesses that can say that
he aided Harry at the last few minutes of the battle before becoming injured,
not to mention the character testimonies every single member of this family
would provide.”
“Of course
something is going to happen,” Ron burst out. “They wouldn’t have arrested him
otherwise. Oh my god… they’re going to…”
“They
haven’t done that to anybody,” Arthur said sternly, setting George down. “It’s
just vicious rumours being put about to scare people and make them look good.
Nobody believes they’re really going to do it.”
“Well I’m
not stupid enough to be so naïve,” Ron shook his head. “Not anymore.”
He burst
into tears and the others round the table all looked at each other uneasily.
“Come on,”
Bill got to his feet and tugged Ron’s arm. “We’re going to see Dumbledore, find
out what’s going on and what we should do next.”
Sniffing,
Ron let himself be tugged to the Floo, wondering if fate and destiny had
anything else miserable to throw at him that year. Severus hated the thought of
fate and destiny playing a role in anything but Ron couldn’t help but feel that
they were intent on messing up both of their lives, just as they’d found one
another.
He followed
Bill into the grate and tried his hardest to hold onto his weak stomach whilst
his head whizzed. The warm office stifled him as he stumbled into it, Bill held
him upright and directed him into the chair he’d sat in the night Severus had
told Dumbledore that he was seeing him. How far they’d come since then.
“I’ve been
waiting for you,” Dumbledore spoke quietly. “Are you alright, Ron?”
“How do you
think I am?” Ron answered, not really sure why his animosity was directed at
the wizened old wizard in front of him.
“Quite, a
ridiculous question but one that must always be asked,” he sighed. “So they’ve
arrested him, then?”
“Just,”
Ron’s hands gripped the wooden arms of the chair he was sat in. “He went
willingly, didn’t show any signs of fear or anger and said he’d go because he
had nothing to hide.”
“Excellent,
just as I hoped,” Dumbledore nodded.
“I’m presuming that’s what you instructed him to do?” Ron asked in a dead tone.
“I did,
yes.”
“What are
we looking at here?” Bill spoke for the first time, with a furtive glance at
Ron.
“I honestly
don’t know. The allegation made against him came from a shaky source.”
“You know
who made it?” Ron sat up straight.
“Yes, but I pretended not so to Severus. I didn’t think it would be the best
idea to send him off to the Ministry with anger boiling in his blood.”
“Who?” Ron
closed his eyes and became very still –if it was who he thought it was, he was
going to go through the roof.
“Draco
Malfoy,” Dumbledore blinked, clearly waiting for the explosion from the younger
redhead in front of him.
“In return
for his father’s freedom?” Ron asked, his eyes still shut, fingers gripping
tighter than ever.
“No. His
father won’t be released. He simply…”
“Wanted
Severus to go down as well. Fucking hell,” Ron’s face creased in sorrow. “What
a vindictive, selfish bastard.”
“The good
thing is that all of the Malfoy wealth and estate was seized by the ministry.
If he’s thinking of paying anyone off to achieve the verdict he wants it’ll be
virtually impossible unless he has another benefactor. His mother is still
refusing contact with him, so it won’t be her. Bellatrix is dead. All other
family members are eschewing the name. I don’t know what Draco thinks he’s
playing at, but he’s not doing so clearly.” Albus shook his head.
“So what…
what if they convict him? What sort of sentence?” Ron asked quietly.
“I will fight with all my being to make sure it doesn’t happen,” Albus said.
“Forgive
me, Dumbledore… but you are just one man. And if two men came along with a big pile of gold, there are people in the
ministry that would be swayed by that over you.” Ron shook his head.
“You and Severus are so alike, you think the same…” Albus murmured. “He said
exactly the same thing to me.”
“Well we’re
all thinking it,” Bill said openly. “Let’s not be coy here. We all know in the
past that people have been paid off, bought, bribed, tricked…”
“Will I be
able to visit him?” Ron asked bleakly.
“I don’t
know the terms, I need to visit the Ministry as soon as we’re done here to find
everything out and set my defence in motion.”
“You’ll act
as his defence?” Ron asked.
“Of course,” Albus got to his feet. “Severus has served me well for many years,
Ron. And now when I can serve him, I will.”
“Will this
go up in front of the whole court?” Bill asked, standing up. “I mean… will it
be like the war crimes trials before? With the restraints and such?”
Ron’s eyes
went wide with alarm. “Will they hurt him?”
“I don’t
think so, not for an arrest by association and a shaky allegation. They will
veritaserum, though, so I think Ron you should probably be prepared that half
the ministry will be alerted to the deepest and dark nuances of your
relationship within the day.”
“I assumed
as much. Thank god he’s got nothing to hide,” Ron breathed, his one hopeful
thought among the gloom.
“No, he
doesn’t, and we must cling to that with all our might,” Albus nodded. “I’ll go
and visit him now. Would you like me to carry a letter, Ron?”
Nodding,
Ron grabbed a square of parchment and quill from the desk, dipping it into the
ink before realising he didn’t know what on earth to say.
Swallowing,
he quickly scrawled out: ‘I love you,
keep strong, and get home soon so you can talk dirty to me again. Ron x’.
He folded the note and handed it to Dumbledore, not bothering to seal it.
Someone at the Ministry would undoubtedly read it anyway.
“I suggest
you go home with Bill and await news from me there, I’ll be in touch as soon as
I possibly can with information and anything about visiting, if they’ll let
you.”
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