Author's notes:

Standard disclaimer. It all belongs to JKR. Thank you for letting us play with your toys.

I will continue to use the occasional song lyric in the story and will give credit at the time when needed.

This is the sixth book in my Slytherin Harry series and covers Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts.

Book 1: Harry Potter and the Muggle's Daughter

Book 2: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Book 3: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Book 4: Harry Potter and the Blood Traitor's Daughter

Book 5: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Book 6: Harry Potter; Flesh, Blood and Bone

If you haven't read books 1-5 you won't know what's going on. But the bonus is you've got five completed books before you even get to this one!

Fair warning, it may take a while to become evident, but this story is quite dark and earns its Mature rating.

Harry Potter; Flesh, Blood and Bone

Chapter I

When was the Last Time

Harry and his friends arrived by portkey back at the Briar Patch after having completed their fourth year of magical education at the fabled institution of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

There had been a few attacks in the weeks following Voldemort's resurrection. The official line was letting the public run with the idea Voldemort was behind them. The truth was it appeared more to be people who agreed with him than actual followers. Both sides could disseminate propaganda and Minister Bones was a master of the press. She couldn't very well keep pressing the issues she was, building up the auror corps and the ranks of the hit wizards, without cause and the support of the public at large. If she was going to keep preparing for war with the bastard she needed him launching attacks. If he wasn't going to oblige her, then she was more than willing to blame the attacks that were happening on him. Especially if the morons responsible were going to claim they'd done so in his name.

The truth though was Voldemort appeared to be laying low. Not unsurprising given his rebirth hadn't quite been the grand moment he'd expected. For one, exhuming the remains of his father so they could embed a few miniscule – really they were no more than dust particles – bits within the hipbone of a chimpanzee, had left him with a body as frail as that of someone suffering Brittle Bone Syndrome – Hermione could tell you the scientific name. For two, they expected Harry telling the Rat he didn't mind giving his blood to the cause would leave the bastard's blood to be piss poor at carrying oxygen. It would be like he was continually two pints low. Or to put it another way, like he'd recently needed all his blood replaced with blood replenishing potion. Harry had been there. It wasn't fun. For three, Harry had gotten a spell in and busted the bastard's shield, and arm with it for good measure. For four, Harry had killed one of his most important and wealthy followers and he'd done it right in front of a cadre of inner circle members. For five, the Order and aurors had captured Pettigrew. For six, the ensuing firefight had seen two other of the bastard's followers killed. For seven, after extracting anything at all of value from him, Karkaroff had been executed two days ago. Minister Bones was going to make people think two and three times before they joined the Dark Lord this time around. For eight, warrants for the arrest of McNair, Crabbe Sr, Goyle Sr, and Nott Sr were issued and efforts were being made to freeze their assets at Gringotts. The goblins were resisting though and Minister Bones wasn't sure how hard she could push them. Wizards didn't exactly have a stellar track record in how they treated goblins and she didn't want to do anything that might have them leaning towards siding with Voldemort. For nine, well, Harry wasn't sure there was a ninth reason or not… Maybe eight was enough anyway. Suffice it to say, the tosser was laying low.

Still, with Harry's health not exactly being the picture of perfection, combined with the relative vulnerability of the train, they'd decided to take no chances. Harry was more than glad of it. He was in no hurry to deal with anyone who wasn't part of his inner circle of friends youth. Even more, he was in no mood to see Draco Malfoy. The git had left school for two weeks after the death of his father – to be expected – but had returned the last week to sit exams. Harry being the wreck he was had still been confined to hospital and not sat exams with the rest of the school. He'd yet to come face to face with Malfoy. If he returned to Hogwarts in the fall, it would be the first time he'd ever come face to face with a relative of someone he'd killed. He had no idea if Draco would know the truth of who his father's killer was or not. All he knew was, regardless of feeling no guilt for his actions, he wasn't looking forward to the encounter. His mum had been right to press him on how he was doing after killing those two arse wipes during the attack at the Harpy's/Falcon's match the previous year. It had hit him the other day that his kill total – a troll, Quirrell, the basilisk, the two arse wipes from the quidditch match, a dragon and its two eggs, a kraken, and Lucius Malfoy, was getting rather high. Was it wrong that he only felt bad about the creatures…? And maybe Quirrell – they still didn't know if he'd willingly joined with Voldemort or if he'd been forced to. Likely they never would. Add in Moody's little talk from the other day and it was all just too depressing to think about. He felt like he needed a month's sleep before he even thought about anything and even then he was pretty sure he'd not want to be faced with anything more strenuous than deciding between bacon or sausages for breakfast.

Anyway, they'd taken a portkey home from school and greetings were made all around. But other than the relief of being back at the Briar Patch it wasn't like they hadn't seen their family and adult friends pretty much every day since the second task. They'd therefore been rather quickly left to their own devices.

"What do you want to do?" Hermione asked.

"Sleep," Harry answered.

"Amen/Ditto/Agreed," Neville, Ginny and Daphne all said together.

"Barn?" Luna asked.

Harry slowly smiled. "Yeah."

Ten minutes later the six teens were sprawled out in the hay in the loft. Harry was on his side with Ginny spooned behind him, an arm wrapped protectively and possessively around his middle. Hermione was on her back with Luna crosswise to her, using her girlfriend's tummy for a pillow. Neville also was on his back. Somewhat surprisingly, given it was a bit forward for them, Daphne was curled up beside him, her head on his chest and a leg draped over him.

"I think I should be very happy to spend the next two months right here," Daphne said.

She was close enough that Harry reached out and wrapped his hand around her ankle. "Me too, Sis. Me too."

HPHPHP

Draco Malfoy sat in his library and fumed. Things had changed fast and continued to do so far faster than he seemed able to keep up with. His father was dead. Not that he was particularly broken up about that fact. Neither of his parents were exactly warm and loving. His father was cold and hard. His mother was only marginally better. They were far more interested in each other than they had ever been with him. He was an heir, the next piece in the perfect face his parents presented to the world. Draco knew that. He'd known it for quite some time actually. That, was his worth to his parents. He was the next Lord Malfoy. It was a role he'd been groomed for his whole life. He'd never questioned it. There had never been a need to. He was the only option.

Until his mother had become pregnant. Everything changed. It had changed far faster than he'd ever thought possible. His father had taken steps before the whelp had even been born to steel his rightful inheritance from him. Imagine his surprise when he learned at the reading of his father's will the title of Lord Malfoy would not pass directly to him; not now, not when he came of age, possibly not ever. His mother had been named executor of the estate and she would exercise the power of the Malfoy name till such time as she chose which of her sons to pass the legacy to. Of course, given the circumstances of his father's death, the power of the Malfoy name was a bit ambiguous right now. Regardless, it was not currently his.

It was preposterous! Some spawn his mother had squirted out he'd only ever even set eyes on twice might be given what was rightfully his! His mother had even taunted him, telling him a true Slytherin would have foreseen his father's actions and the fact he hadn't only proved he was nowhere near ready to have the honor of his Father's title bestowed upon him. No, instead he was to make do with a measly trust vault, two elves to see to his needs and this; the holiday house.

To be completely fair, the house was nice; kitchen, living room, dining room, parlour, library, five bedrooms, and six baths. He had spent summers there with his mother and father for most of his life. It was located on some hundred acres of seashore on the Isle of Wight. The gardens were lovely. The conservatory housed a pool. There was even a boat. He had loved coming here when he was younger.

It was servant's quarters compared to what should have been his.

The entire house wouldn't fill even his parent's wing of Malfoy Manor. It might not fill his wing. It might not fill the formal ballroom. This was to be his home till such time as his mother deigned to choose between he and his brother. He wasn't allowed to set foot on even the grounds of the manor unless at the express invitation of his mother. Yet she would come and go as she pleased from his new home. It seemed he wasn't trusted around his brother and while she'd been fine to take his brother here when he'd been home from school for the holidays, she was most certainly not giving up the manor for him while she raised the brat to take his place.

He scowled as he stared into the fire. It was all Potter's fault. From the off, the halfblood runt of a Mudblood whore had embarrassed him at every turn. He'd fallen so low in his father's eyes he'd practically been disinherited. The light spilling in the window suddenly refracted off his father's liquor cabinet. Draco lurched to his feet; his liquor cabinet, not his father's. His father was dead. What better way to spit on his grave than by drinking the man's prized collection…?

What better way to begin claiming his rightful title than finishing what his father had started with that red-haired bitch! Even better that it would pay Potter back for everything he'd done to him.

HPHPHP

"Really can't believe it's come to this," Charlie said as he stood next to Bill watching the Hogwarts' Express pull in.

Bill frowned. It was killing him, but at this point he really didn't think he had a choice anymore. Not after the stunt his mother had pulled with Ginny when she'd lied about not having broken up with their father. At this point he wasn't certain if his mum had gone off the rails when her husband had been killed or if he'd just never really realized the influence his father had exerted over her, but he'd come to the conclusion none of his siblings were safe under her care. How could they be if she was more concerned about being embarrassed for herself than with naming the person they suspected of having killed her husband, trying to kill her eldest son and been responsible for nearly killing Ginny. He pushed aside the image of Sandra that flashed in his mind. If he dwelled on her too much he'd be unable to control the ever-present rage he'd been harboring since the day Ginny confronted their mother.

"I've made up my mind, Charlie."

"Not disagreein', Bro," Charlie said. Bill grunted. They stood in silence as the train braked to a stop and eager parents pressed forward to claim their children. "Blimey," Charlie said. He'd just caught sight of Ron's head above the crowd of students. "I think he's grown since last week." Bill smirked.

Dragging his trunk behind, Ron pushed his way through the crowd to them. "Hey," he said.

"Hey little bro," Charlie greeted. He grabbed Ron in a headlock and rubbed his knuckle into Ron's skull.

"Geroff!" Ron protested, trying to shove Charlie away. But while Ron might have been an inch or two taller than Charlie he had a long way to go to fill out his frame. Truthfully he'd probably never quite fill his frame the way Charlie did. Charlie was built heavy, somehow making six-two look stocky whereas Ron would likely take after his father and Bill, solid, but lanky.

Charlie laughed and released him. "Good to see you, Ronnikins."

Ron glowered at him before turning to Bill. Bill gave him a somewhat gentle slug to the shoulder. "Little bro."

Ron grabbed at Bill's arm but the older man avoided him. "Oi, I'm nearly as tall as you."

Bill smirked. "Key word, nearly."

"Where are the eejits?" Charlie asked.

Ron shrugged. "They were talking with Lee and the others."

"Go see if you can round them up," Bill said to Charlie.

"Do I look like your house elf?" Charlie shot back. Bill gave him a look. Charlie rolled his eyes. "Yes, master. Whatever master says," he muttered, shoving into the crowd.

Bill and Ron stood in silence for a few seconds. "How we getting to Charlie's?"

"Portkey," Bill answered. Ron paled a bit. He'd only ever used a portkey once. He'd vomited almost on the spot on landing. It wasn't a fond memory. "You'll be fine," Bill said.

"Easy for you to say," Ron muttered.

"Got your letter," Bill said. "We'll talk later."

Ron frowned. "Letter?"

"You sent me a letter. Said you needed to talk to me about something important," Bill provided.

"I did?"

"Bloody hell, what part of not messing about didn't those two understand?" Bill fumed as Charlie hadn't yet returned with the twins.

"What's the hurry?" Ron asked, trying to figure what it was Bill was talking about.

"Voldemort," Bill answered.

Ron recoiled. "Y–you s–said his n–name," he stammered, glancing around fearfully.

"Yep," Bill said. The crowd parted and the twins appeared with Charlie herding them along.

"We're going! We're going!" the twins yelped, trying to avoid the stinging hexes Charlie was shooting at their arses.

"Damn that was fun," Charlie said as they came to a stop in front of Bill.

"Did I, or did I not tell you two we weren't going to be hanging about?" Bill snapped.

"Yesh," Fred said.

"What's the hurry," George said.

"Just trying to make some plans," Fred said.

"You had the entire ride to make plans," Bill said. "Now get your shit over here so we can get going."

"All right already," Fred said.

"Someone's got their pants in a bunch," George muttered.

Bill glared at them. "You two are about to piss me off." The twins nearly retorted but stopped. Even they knew enough to read Bill was not in the mood. "When I tell you to do something, you do it."

Fred and George nodded. "Right," they said together, "sure thing, Bill."

Bill held them with hard eyes for another second before tapping the three trunks with his wand, shrinking them down so they could fit them in their pockets. He then pulled a short length of rope out of his pocket and held it out to them. "Grab hold."

"A portkey?" Fred asked, eyes gleaming.

"Wicked," George agreed. They quickly grabbed on.

Charlie joined them with Ron moving the slowest. Closing his eyes, he grabbed the rope and an instant later the sickening feeling of being hooked in the navel and jerked away took him spinning through space. Thankfully portkeys were very fast means of travel and as quickly as it started it was over when he abruptly landed in a tangled heap with Fred and George. "Urgh," Ron groaned.

"Get off," Fred shoved him.

"You get off," George said.

"What the hell is that noise?" Fred asked.

Tonks ran into the room. "Petrificus Totalus!" she roared, petrifying them all with a single spell. She waved her wand again, shutting the alarm off. "Charlie?" she asked, surprised. She very nearly canceled her spells but her auror training overrode what her eyes were telling her. She approached Charlie and placed her wand on his lips. "Finite," she said.

"It's me Nymph."

"Password," she countered.

"Harry broke big sister's arm." Tonks sagged with relief and quickly canceled they spells on them.

Charlie grabbed her in his arms. "Thank Merlin you're safe."

"Nice spell," Bill said appreciatively, making mental note he needed to improve his reactions if she could get the drop on him that quickly.

"She's safe?" Fred complained.

"What's to keep us safe from her?" George said.

"What happened?" Charlie asked. "Why did the alarm go off?"

Bill strode to the mantel and the collection of strange instruments set on it. One of them looked a lot like one of those barometers with different colored floats in it. "There's an unauthorized portkey," he said.

"You took an unauthorized portkey into your own flat?" George asked.

"Seems rather an oversight, big brother," Fred said.

"No," Bill said, focusing on them. "Someone's brought an unauthorized portkey into the flat." He held his hand out. "Let's have it."

Fred and George looked at each other. "Why is it he assumes it's us?" they asked in unison.

"No idea," Fred said.

"I'm hurt," George said.

"That our own brother would think," Fred said.

"We'd do something so erroneous," George said.

"Immoral," Fred said.

"Iniquitous," George said.

"Good one," Fred said.

"As to create an unauthorized portkey," George said.

"That would be against ministry regulations that would," Fred said.

"Not buyin' it," Bill said.

"Ditto," Charlie said.

"Thrice," Tonks added. The three of them just looked at the twins and waited. The twins shared a glance.

"I haven't," Fred said. "Did you?"

"Noppa," George said.

"Kind'a wish I had though."

"Too true," George agreed. He turned back to the others. "We didn't do it." Bill narrowed his eyes at them.

"Really," they said together.

Bill turned back to the mantle and began examining the instruments again. "Then why are my wards going off?" Tonks moved to join him while Charlie flopped on the couch.

"Perhaps you made a mistake," George said.

"You are old after all," Fred said.

"Addled," George said.

"It's not a laughing matter," Bill snapped.

Tonks rounded on them. "What part of the bloody damn Dark Lord is alive don't you two get?"

The twins backed away, holding their hands up. "Only joking," they said.

"Well stop!" She turned back to Bill. In that short time he'd cast a detection web on the barometer-like device.

"It's not defective," he muttered. He turned and cast a large web on the floor where they'd all landed. A number of runes formed in the air. A wave of his wand dispersed all but one of them.

"So one of you has a portkey on you," Tonks observed.

"Could bloody well be that it's actually one of us," Bill answered. Tonks drew her wand and prepared to cast the detection web on Bill. In quick order she'd determined it wasn't Bill, Charlie or the twins. Ron though, the detection web bloomed with the Rune to indicate either he was a portkey or he had a portkey on him.

"What?" Ron yelped.

"Petrificus," Bill snapped, freezing Ron in place. Another flick of his wand shoved everyone back from Ron, ensuring no one would accidentally be portkeyed away with him if the portkey activated. "Lock it down," he snapped at Tonks.

She stepped to the mantle where she touched her wand to a delicate silver instrument that looked a bit like a sextant. The stones embedded flared with a bright white light before settling to softly glowing. "Up and fully powered," Tonks confirmed.

"Everyone but Tonks out," Bill snapped.

"But—" the twins protested.

"You heard him," Charlie growled, grabbing the two and herding them into the kitchen.

Bill waited till their protesting voices were cut off by the closing of the door before returning his focus to Ron. His mind poured over a number of possibilities while he considered the brother before him. None of them seemed particularly plausible. Given a second to consider things he was more inclined to believe something was wrong with his detection webs than any of the possible alternatives he'd come up with. But there wasn't anything wrong with his ward or the detection webs. The one Tonks had just cast over Ron proved it. That left him with the fact Ron himself, or something he was carrying, was a portkey. Which meant he needed to assume the worst. And given what he'd witnessed the last few years with Ginny and Harry, well, let's just say he could imagination a lot. He started to speak, but stopped with yet another thought. He stepped in front of Ron, drew a Detection Web, added the rune for a Memory Charm, and set it on his brother.

"A memory charm?" Tonks asked.

"I didn't pay any attention to it earlier, but he didn't seem to remember a letter he sent me saying he needed to talk." Bill's web settled on Ron. The Rune bloomed a deeply glowing red.

"Shit," Tonks whispered.

"Yeah," Bill muttered. He considered a second. "Get your mum here for me."

"On it."

All right, Ron," Bill said. I know you're probably scared or pissed or maybe both. But it looks like someone may have slipped you a portkey and obliviated that information from your mind. Absolutely anything at all could trigger the thing. That's why I've petrified you, so you don't do or say something that triggers it. I know you probably at least want to talk, but I'm not going to let you do that just yet. The good news is, I've managed to detect the thing and unless this thing is the most powerful portkey ever made, there is no way in hell you're going to be taken from this room. So you don't have to be afraid of that." While he was speaking, Bill went about the business of finding and identifying the portkey. "Now, there's two possibilities here. The first is that you're the actual portkey. Now, there'd be pretty much no way in hell of turning you into a portkey without you noticing so that would explain why you've been obliviated. The second is you're just carrying the portkey. It's the most likely option, but I need to be certain it isn't you first."

Tonks came back in from outside. "Mum's on her way." She moved beside Bill and observed while he worked.

"Good," Bill said. He focused in on Ron's pocket. "I don't think it's him." He used his wand to slice the pocket on Ron's trousers open. A flick of his wand set Ron's miniaturized trunk on the floor. He drew a detection web and set it on trunk. "Bingo," he said. Bill left the trunk where it was. "I'm going to unfreeze you, but I don't want you to talk just yet." A flick of his wand and Ron was stumbling forward. Bill caught him by the arm. "Easy." He guided Ron to a chair and sat him down. "Now, the only answer I want is a shake or nod of your head. No talking, ok?"

Ron nodded.

"Good," Bill said. "You've got no idea what this is about, do you?" Ron shook his head. "And do you have any idea what the letter I was talking about earlier is?" Again Ron shook his head. Bill frowned, considering. The fact Ron had sent the letter but didn't remember meant he likely had some idea of what was going on. The question was, just how much. A knock at the door and Tonks was striding to it. She pulled it open and Andi stepped in.

"I came as quickly as I could," she said.

Bill cast a specialized containment web, one that would prevent the portkey from disappearing if it were activated and would also provide him with where it was going if it did activate before turning to Andi. "Thanks, Andi."

She let Tonks go and accepted his hug. "Of course. Now tell me what's going on." Bill quickly explained about the portkey, the letter and the fact Ron had been obliviated. "And you would like me to see if I can help Ronald break this memory charm?"

"Please?"

Andromeda focused on Ron. "And what have you to say to this?"

Ron glanced at Bill. "You can talk now," Bill said.

"Thanks," Ron gasped.

"Sorry," Bill said. "But if you'd seen Harry after we got him back, you wouldn't take chances with anyone else being taken either."

Ron frowned. "H–how bad was it?"

"Horrifying," Andi said. She held her hand out to Ron. "My name is Andromeda Tonks."

"Mrs Tonks," Bill interjected.

"I'm a trained healer," she went on without acknowledging Bill, "and one of the foremost experts in the Mind Magics of Legilimency and Occlumency in the UK. Do you know what those are?"

Ron shook his head. "No."

"Legilimency is the art of reading another's mind. Occlumency is the art of defending your mind from a Legilimens."

Ron blanched. "You're going to read my mind?"

"I'm going to see if I can find the block that has been placed on your memory and help you break through it. I promise, I am extremely skilled at looking for only that which I need find. Unless I fear you are a danger to yourself or others, anything I do happen to see will be held in the strictest confidence."

"We could simply try breaking the spell," Bill offered, "but it's far less effective and potentially more dangerous than if Andi can help you to break the Charm yourself."

"It's up to you which method we try, Ronald," Andromeda said. "With the knowledge of the letter you sent William, we do at least have a place to start. In fact, if you are determined enough, it may even be possible I can help you without entering your mind at all."

"O–ok," Ron agreed.

"All I need you to do is think about the letter you sent William. You told him you had something important you needed to speak to him about. Can you not remember that at all?"

Ron shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Close your eyes," Andi said.

Ron hesitated. "You're not going to read my mind?"

"One of the limits of Legilimency is the need for eye contact," she soothed. "Unless I'm very familiar with my subject I cannot enter their mind without seeing into their eyes. Go on now. Close your eyes for me." Ron took a slow breath and did as she asked. "Now, I want you to just relax for me. You can lay back if you like even."

"I'm fine."

"Good then… Now, all I want you do is think about William. You had something you wanted to speak to him about." She paused. "It was very important… You wrote him a letter from school. That's fairly unusual for you isn't it? You don't often write him. It must have been very important for you to have done so."

Ron suddenly flinched and slapped a hand over his eye. "Ow, bloody hell!" He focused on her angrily. "You said you weren't going to read my mind."

"And I did not," Andromeda answered. "That was nothing more than my words guiding you to the memory block in your mind. Memory Charms work in just this manner. They keep you away from those memories and if you get too close it becomes painful, causing you to retreat from it. This Charm is obviously trying to hide too much, is poorly cast, or even a combination of both for that little bit of effort to have brought you to it already. Knowing where it is, you can break through it simply by pushing past the pain you experience when approaching it. Why don't you give it another try or two and see if you can make some progress. If you're still struggling after that, I can have a look and see what's going on."

Ron had been pressing his palm into his eye, trying to sort of massage away the pain of his first attempt while Mrs Tonks explained why his head was hurting so badly. Considering just how painful it was, he didn't particularly want to give it another go. Or two. But he also wasn't particularly interested in having someone poking around in his head either and something told him if he didn't manage it, Bill was going to insist on him letting her break the Charm. Not that he didn't want to know just what was missing in his head, he just wasn't too keen on someone seeing all the things no teenage boy wanted anyone to know… Especially if that someone happened to be a really pretty woman; even if she was married… and older. "Do I have to do it now?"

"Ron—"

"The longer you go without breaking it," Andromeda cut over Bill, "the less likely you will be to break it on your own."

"You need to do this, Ron," Bill said. "And it needs to be now."

Ron sighed. "Ok, ok. Just give me a second."

"Take your time," Andromeda soothed.

Ron nodded. She might be calm, Bill, however, was anything but. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the idea of having sent Bill a letter, something he needed to talk to him about. Ron had to admit, if he'd really written to Bill, it must have been a big deal. It wasn't like he hadn't seen his brother quite a bit over the last few weeks, what with all the time he'd spent at the school. What could have been such a big deal that he wouldn't have just told him then? What would prompt him to send a letter when it was better than even odds he'd see Bill in person on a given day? "Draco Malfoy," he whispered.

Again he felt that same stabbing pain behind his eye. Harsh enough it had him sliding off the couch to his knees where he bent over double while clutching his head. "Argh," he gasped. When he managed to come back to himself again it was to Bill and Mrs Tonks kneeling over him.

"Easy now," she soothed. "Focus on me." He gave a bit of a nod, locking eyes with her violet gaze. She brushed his hair off his face. "There, not so bad, yes?"

"Easy for you to say," Ron croaked.

She smiled. "Yes, I'm afraid those of us not in pain tend to underestimate the pain of those who are." She was silent for a second before asking. "Do you recall giving us a name?"

Ron frowned. "No." Bill scowled but held his tongue. "I thought not," Mrs Tonks said. "And the letter to Bill, you remember you were trying to recall that?"

"Yes."

"That is the key then. It means the caster of the spell felt it more important you forget him than the letter you wrote Bill. I'm going to count now and I want you to do nothing but focus on the sound of my voice. I don't want you to think of anything at all but for listening to my voice. Can you do that?"

Ron nodded. Given her voice was soft and a bit raspy and just oozed something that while unidentifiable was extremely interesting to most men, he'd be more than happy to listen to her.

"One, two, three…" Ron drifted away as she counted, letting his eyes fall shut. On and on and it felt unbelievably nice after the pain he'd been in just a few minutes ago. "thirty, thirty-one… Ever so slowly his mind settled and before long he really didn't remember what it was that had made his head hurt in the first place. That should have frightened him, as it was the way memory charms worked. "ninty-two, ninety-three…" The pain caused you to stop pursuing a thought and before long you forgot what it was altogether. Unless the Charm was compromised somehow; perhaps a crack that was too big because you'd picked at it a bit too much and it was now paper-thin. Then it might only take the right question or words and you'd burst through what remained of the charm before it rose up to fight back. "Did Draco Malfoy give you the portkey?"

"Yes," Ron answered. "Argh!" His hand shot to his head as a tsunami of pain crashed over him. For a few seconds it was near unbearable but then it was receding and he could see beyond the spots in his vision…

And he could remember.

Malfoy approaching him after his sister, Harry and the rest of the Slytherin Slashers had lit him up when he filled in for an injured Oliver Wood. The suggestion he could help him pay them both back for embarrassing him. Telling Malfoy to piss off, but then doing exactly what Malfoy said when he just laughed and suggested the best way to get her back was to apologize. Slow but sure, agreeing to Malfoys plans; mending the fences with his sister. Regaining a place in her good graces while slowly becoming a bit concerned just what Malfoy was planning as things went along. Deciding to play along and try to find out what Malfoy was going to do and sending Bill a letter, telling him he needed to talk to him. Last, Malfoy giving him a small package wrapped in gold paper with a red ribbon. Asking what it was. Being told he'd see when it happened and to say the package had come from that weird curio shop in Hogsmeade. And then things went blank.

Ron opened his eyes to see Mrs Tonks and his brother looking down on him with concerned eyes. He rather doubted just how long that would be the case when they learned the truth. "Just remember, I wasn't going to go through with it."

"Sorry?" Mrs Tonks asked.

Bill's eyes narrowed almost immediately. "Go through with what?" Ron cringed. Bill grabbed him by the front of his shirt, hauled him up and deposited him on the couch. "Talk."

"William, Weasley," Mrs Tonks snapped, "that is enough."

"Andi, don't—"

"Don't you," she cut him off. "Your brother has suffered a serious trauma. Whatever is going on, we will get to the bottom of it without you terrorizing him."

"He had a portkey on him, Andi. One he apparently was involved with the planning process for before he got cold feet. Need I remind you just what happened to Harry when someone took him?"

"Harry Potter is as good as my son," she hissed back. "I most certainly don't need to be reminded of seeing his bruised and broken body. You however—"

"I know I was wrong, ok?" Ron blurted. "I was pissed at her and wanted to teach her a lesson. But I didn't do what he wanted. I started working hard in class. And Auntie has me working on the animagus training and I've started brewing the potions for visiting my spirit animal and the End Trance draught and she's been really proud of me, and you were proud of me, and anytime I did anything to get closer to Ginny so I could earn her trust I'd have dreams where Dad would just look at me like he did whenever one of us just really disappointed him, and Ginny's been really nice and she let the twins have it when they were taking the mickey at the ball and, and, and you were proud of me…" Ron said all of this really fast with nary a chance to breathe and finally trailed off when he ran out of air. Bill and Mrs Tonks just looked at him. "And I sent you a letter," Ron pleaded in a whisper.

"William," Mrs Tonks said intensely.

"Get out of my sight."

"William!"

"But I didn't do anything," Ron protested. "I changed my mind and tried to figure out what he was planning and told you about it."

Bill visibly composed himself. "I'm aware. I just can't think clearly right now so go to your room and stay there till I come find you." Ron hesitated. "Go, Ron."

"Right, sorry." He stood. "Erm, where is it?"

"Last door on the left," Bill answered.

"T–thanks," Ron said and quickly moved down the hall and disappeared from sight. He was still sitting on his bed an hour later when Bill came in, closed and locked the door and silenced the room. Bill grabbed the chair and sat down across from him. Ron eyed him warily. His brother looked to be far less likely to kill him but that didn't mean he wouldn't have liked to have Mrs Tonks there again.

"All right then," Bill said, "the whole story."

Ron took a deep breath and started. It wasn't like he hadn't had time to think about it, now was it? "I was just pissed at her, well all of them really. They kept embarrassing me and I kept getting in trouble because of them. Malfoy cornered me at the end of third year and told me he knew a way I could get back at them. I just had to listen to him." Ron stopped. He shrugged. "I guess the short of it is I did. He wanted me to make up with Ginny, told me she needed to trust me before I could get back at her. He told me to be nice to her and talk to her and dance with her at the ball. But almost as soon as I got to school this year I started having dreams about Dad. And I started working with Auntie and things were going well. And when I started being nice to Ginny I kind of remembered what it was like when she and I were little and we were actually friends. And then, after Christmas, Malfoy started talking more about how she was really going to pay for what she did to him. He said something about how she'd spend the rest of her life paying for it and that it would kill Potter too. He was getting kind of scary. And whenever I did something he wanted me to, I'd have a dream about Dad. And he'd be looking at me like he did whenever one of us did something that disappointed him." Ron shrugged. "And I never wanted to do anything but embarrass her or something and he was making it sound like he was really going to hurt her. I thought about telling him I wasn't going to do anything like that, but then I figured if I didn't help him he'd just find some other way of getting her so I played along; hoping to get him to tell me what he was planning. He never really said, but he gave me that package to give to her on her birthday; said it was just a bracelet. I asked him how a bracelet was going to make her pay and he just told me I'd see. When it happened, I was supposed to tell everyone I'd gotten it from that new curio shoppe in Hogsmeade."

Ron hadn't dared look at Bill while he was speaking, choosing to fixedly stare at the floor instead. When he finally did look up he couldn't read the look Bill was giving him. Bill watched him for a very long time. Ron swallowed nervously. "Am I in trouble?"

"At the moment, no."

"At the moment?"

Bill pulled a small phial from his pocket. He rocked it back and forth between his fingers. A tiny amount of clear liquid sloshed back and forth inside. "Do you know what this is?"

Ron shook his head. "No."

"It's veritaserum." Ron's eyes widened. "No known antidotes," Bill said. He held the phial out to Ron. Ron didn't move. "You've told me some interesting things, Ron. And I want to believe you. But it also appears you've done a bang up job of deceiving people over the last year or so. And the thing is, what you've told me isn't the half of it when it comes to the Malfoys and I can't take the chance they didn't put you up to this as well."

"You don't believe me," Ron said dejectedly.

"I will. If you drink this and answer one question." A tear slid down Ron's cheek. "I'm sorry, Ron," Bill said. "But that's the way it is. I know you've been obliviated. And the truth is, I really doubt you're lying to me right now. But I just can't take the chance. If you're telling me the truth, it means you've grown up and realized you needed to come clean and if that's the case, I am proud of you, but I have to know for certain."

"You can't just trust me?"

"If it makes you feel better, I'd do the same thing to Percy."

"But not the twins?"

"They've been gits, but they haven't given me something like this to make me question."

"So even after being obliviated and coming clean I'm under more suspicion? They could be working with Malfoy and not have told you a thing and you'd be trusting them when you shouldn't."

"I could," Bill agreed. "Or I could already have given them veritaserum and you don't know about it."

"Have you?" Ron challenged.

"No." Ron glowered at him. "Trust has to be earned, Ron. You've done a good job so far, but when you're me, and I've just listened to what you've confessed, even after the fact you've been obliviated, and you know the things I know that you don't, well, let's just say this is the way it's going to be. If it turns out you're being honest with me, I can live with having forced you to drink it. If I don't and you're lying to me, I can't. That makes my decision easy." Bill rocked the phial between his fingers. "Drink it or don't. Either way I've got my answer."

Ron snatched the phial from Bill's hand, popped the stopper and quickly tipped the contents into his mouth. He focused on Bill. "Go on then," he said angrily.

Bill looked at his watch, counting down the seconds. When he was certain the potion'd had enough time to take effect he asked, "When was the last time you wanked?"

"This morning," Ron blurted. What he'd been asked, and then subsequently answered, registered and he clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Good enough," Bill said. Ron spluttered incoherently but Bill went on over him. "Now, you held up your end so I'll hold up mine and tell you why I made you drink that. To begin with, while we couldn't prove it in court, we know that dad didn't die in an accident. Lucius Malfoy cursed that wood chipper; knowing it would be dad who would be sent to deal with it. Additionally, we know he was behind me being trapped in that pyramid. We also believe he had plans to kill Charlie. Though we can't find any evidence those plans were ever acted on. We know he was the one behind Ginny being kidnapped her second year, which also makes him responsible for killing Sandra."

Ron had slowly blanched as Bill rattled off Malfoy's father's crimes. "He murdered D–dad?" Ron croaked.

"Yes."

"W–why?"

"Because he wanted Ginny."

"G–Ginny? Why?"

"Because despite what you have been told, Ginny is one of the most powerful witches alive in the world today. In fact, she is most likely the fourth most powerful sorcerer in the whole of the UK; right after the Dark Lord, Dumbledore and Harry Potter."

"B–b–but—"

"The ministry lies, Ron. I told Percy that years ago and I know you heard it as well. They lie about anyone who is really powerful like that because they're dangerous. Normal people like us are drawn to people like Harry and Ginny. We're like moths to a candle. We praise them and hold them up and sometimes, as with the Dark Lord, even worship them. That kind of adulation with all that power at their fingertips, well it corrupts. They either end up like the Dark Lord or they end up fighting dark lords. But even when they fight for the Light, it's very easy for them to lose sight of what right and wrong really is.

"Something needs to be done. They've got the power to do it, so they do. And slowly but surely they're doing the wrong things for the right reasons. They don't even realize they've taken a path that's nearly as bad as that of the Dark. That isn't to say that some of them aren't inherently good and are never led astray or follow a Dark path, but it's difficult.

"By keeping the true level of power available to people like Harry and Ginny hidden from the rest of the world, we're less inclined to flock to them. To be sure, we still do. Our magic can feel theirs so on some level we know the truth. But the power of the mind is an amazing thing, and if I'm 90th percentile and I believe that Harry or Ginny or someone else are only 70th or 80th or even 92nd, because that is what the ministry has told me, then despite what my magic tells me, my mind is telling me I've got more juice than them, or at worst I'm only a bit behind them and the difference between 90th and 92nd is one person; big deal, right? And because of that I'm more likely to question them, hold them accountable, demand proof of whatever it is that they're saying. In essence, it levels the playing field.

"Unfortunately, especially amongst the most ardent of the pureblood set, this little lie is a rather poorly kept secret. Mum and Dad didn't know because the Weasley's opted out, to our detriment I'll add, of the secrets the Sacred Twenty-Eight were keeping from everyone else generations ago. So while they didn't know, Lucius Malfoy learned the truth about Ginny and decided she was going to be Draco's wife and he didn't give a damn what he had to do or who he had to hurt to make that happen.

"Now, given Lucius Malfoy is dead, I don't know what exactly would have happened had you gone through with things and given Ginny that portkey. But, were he not dead, I can make some pretty good guesses as to what would have happened to her. One possibility is that she would have been forced into a marriage with Draco. What I believe is more likely is Draco would have married someone more in line with whom the Malfoys deem an appropriate bride for their son. Meanwhile, Ginny would have been locked away somewhere; raped and forced to bear children that would have then been passed off as Draco and his wife's. It's entirely probably she could have been forced to bear children for a number of the Dark families."

Horror at what he'd learned coursing through him Ron stared at his older brother. He suddenly turned and dove for the bin. It took a few minutes for his stomach to stop heaving but eventually he managed to get control of himself. He spit out a last mouthful before wiping his hand across his mouth. Bill waved his wand, vanishing the sick. "Thanks," Ron gasped.

"I'd magic up a glass and water, but you'd probably just end up spewing wand water right back up."

"They really do things like that?" Ron croaked.

"The old purebloods are dying out, Ron. The Weasley's are one of the few that have managed to produce more than a single child across the last handful of generations. Meanwhile the incidences of squibs being born into an old line are happening more and more frequently. Even when the child is magical, they're rarely as powerful as their parents. Harry is a bit of a special case and defies almost all the rules around magic, but even Ginny, as powerful as she is, if you went back five hundred years, you'd probably find a hundred or more witches in the UK who were just as powerful. Inbreeding accounts for a good part of that, but the practicing of Dark magic is playing a role as well. Families like the Malfoys refuse to accept these truths. They think they can fix things by finding a very powerful pureblood witch to bring into their line. And for a generation, maybe two, it would work. The children would be magical and they'd be powerful. Not nearly as powerful as Ginny, but more powerful than Draco. And in a generation or two, with further inbreeding and the continued practicing of Dark magic, they'd be birthing squibs again. The absolute best thing the Malfoys could do for the future of their line would be to stop the practice of Dark magic. The next would be for Draco to marry a Muggle-born. The Greengrasses are a perfect example of what would happen if they did. Just a few generations ago the Lord Greengrass of that time was less than 40th percentile. But they figured things out. They stopped practicing Dark magic and their son married a girl as far outside the Sacred Twenty-eight as they could get and still have her be considered to be of pure blood. A couple generations further with the same practices and suddenly they have two daughters who are above 90th percentile."

Ron sat in silence, contemplating what he'd learned. His mind eventually settled on the fact his father had been murdered and what Bill said they'd do to Ginny. "I'll kill him," he said with soft intensity.

"No," Bill said, "you won't. If he contacts you, you will continue to play along with his plans. You'll inform me of any contact from him and we will let him maneuver himself into a permanent residence in Azkaban. Further, you will not breath a word of this to Ginny and most certainly not Harry."

Ron frowned. He could pass up killing Malfoy. He'd not really intended to kill him at all; beat the living hell out of yes, but kill, no. So Bill's plan to land the git in Azkaban sounded better than his own. But why couldn't he tell Ginny? She should know they were after her so she could protect herself. "Why can't I tell Ginny or Potter?"

Bill shrugged. "Except for the fact Ginny would tell Harry she'd be ok. Harry can't know because he would kill Draco. And as much as I might like that, we can't have him going around murdering people."

"He'd really kill him?"

"No doubt in my mind. He's smart enough to make it look like self-defense, or to make the little prick simply disappear and no one would know what happened. But you remember what I said about doing the wrong thing for the right reasons?"

"Oh," Ron said. He sat, silently thinking for a minute.

"Whom were you thinking about when you wanked this morning?" Bill asked out of nowhere.

"What!" Ron cried.

Bill laughed. "Just checking to see if the veritaserum had worn off yet." He stood and pulled Ron up. "Unless you want the twins having a go at you like that?"

"N–no."

Looping an arm around his shoulder Bill pulled Ron to the door. "Come on, Little Bro."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

Ron stopped. "You're going to let me drink?"

Bill continued pulling him along. "I am today."

Ron held him back. "Why'd you ask about wanking?"

"No known antidotes," Bill answered.

"Sorry?"

"Lucius Malfoy has been hiding behind his status as a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight for over a decade, Ron. Even at that he's been one wrong move away from being force fed veritaserum the entire time. An antidote would have been a very high priority. Money wasn't an object to him; he could afford any ingredient needed. His wife is known to be a skilled potions' mistress. Draco's godfather is none other than Severus Snape. Sadistic bastard he may have been, but he is widely regarded as the greatest potion's master to come out of Hogwarts in over a hundred years. That question proved you hadn't been given an antidote I didn't know existed."

"Oh."

Bill gave him a tug. "Now quit stalling or I'll think you don't actually want that drink.

HPHPHP

Author's notes:

Conclusion, don't ever let Bill feed you veritaserum.

Hopefully a beginning worth the wait. Though I'll confess now, the wait for the next volume will be longer. I've honestly got nothing but notes yet.