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  This chapter was edited by Gdiusx. Check his works on HP and ASOIAF, I highly recommend them.

  Tuesday, 1st of June 1993

  Harry stumbled as he made his way out of the Floo but managed to steady himself and avoid rolling on the floor. It was not as bad as when he ended up in Borgins and Burkes - it seemed that Jon’s ability and gracefulness had also rubbed onto him, if only a little. The harsher mediaeval life and training at arms since he was old enough to walk did wonders for his muscle memory; He just needed to work on those muscles now. Harry quickly moved aside to make room for Hermione and McGonnogal and found himself in front of Arthur Weasley.

  “Mr Weasley.”

  Ron’s father gave him a wan smile. The boy could have sworn the man had aged ten years since that fateful day nearly a year ago; when Arthur had asked about the function of a rubber duck with such excitement after Ron and the twins spirited him from the Dursleys.

  “Thank you for making it, Harry. I'm certain that Ron would have loved having you here today.”

  “It's the least I can do, Mr Weasley. Ron was my first friend ever - someone who stood by my me through thick and thin, a brother in all but blood.”

  Arthur’s sad eyes gained some warmth and liveliness, but before anything else could be said, Hermione and McGonnogal stepped out of the Floo one after another. More courtesies were exchanged, condolences were said, and Arthur led them out to the boundaries of the property.

  “You’re the st to arrive. Everyone is already at the cemetery. It's a bit of a walk, so we will be Apparating there,” The balding wizard said. “Thank you for bringing them, Minerva. I’m gd you both chose to attend.”

  “Ron was our friend, Mr Weasley. He saved me from that troll in our first year. I want to give a proper farewell to him.”

  Arthur’s face tightened a bit, “He was always quick to help those in need. I am not blind to his faults, but my brave, reckless child would never have knowingly let someone he knows get hurt when he could have done something for them.”

  Harry smiled sadly, remembering how Ron sacrificed himself in that chess match so he and Hermione could carry on to the Stone. All three of them had seen what the chess pieces had done to the defeated ones, and Ron took on that challenge, fully aware that he might very well get killed by that vicious queen piece.

  They walked for a few minutes in respectful silence. Harry was surprised that the deputy headmistress didn’t comment on the troll when Hermione mentioned it, but a quick gnce told him she was in too sombre a mood to care.

  Soon they were outside the Burrow, with Harry noticing a rge tent on the ground waiting to be set up. Probably for the Wake, if Harry had to guess, as he acknowledged the hot sun above.

  “This should do. Here, grab my arm, Harry. Do you know what apparition is?”

  Harry thought Ron had mentioned it when he asked how his parents would return home without the car when they took it during their flight to Hogwarts, but he never knew what the term meant. Hermione easily volunteered the information as she held onto McGonnogal’s arm. “It's a method of magical transportation where the user disappears from one pce and appears almost instantly somewhere else. Basically teleportation, Harry. We get to learn it in our sixth year!”

  Harry had no idea what teleportation was and almost missed McGonnogal giving Arthur a nod.

  “This won’t feel pleasant, Mr Potter, Ms Granger. My only advice is to grab on with a tight grip and endure.”

  Before he could ask what she meant, Harry felt Arthur's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip. Everything went bck; he was pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, as if iron bands were tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull, and then—

  His feet smmed onto the ground, and the spinning momentum almost sent him spiralling into the ground, but he managed to stay upright. Harry felt like he had just been forced through a tight rubber tube. A quick gnce at the surroundings told him they were on a seemingly abandoned road leading to a cemetery on a hill. The Burrow was nowhere in sight. While the entire ordeal wasn’t pleasant, Harry could understand the pragmatism of apparition for quick travel. It was only slightly worse than the Floo, and Harry had a strong feeling that he might have done something simir when he was young.

  Something to look into when he went to sleep.

  He noticed Hermione dry heaving on the side of the road with McGonnogal rubbing her back in soothing motions.

  “Take a slow, deep breath and hold it for three seconds,” the professor’s voice was soothing, “then slowly exhale and repeat.”

  “You did well, Harry,” Mr Weasley nodded approvingly. “Most people get nauseated when they apparate for the first time. Side-along apparition is even worse for the passenger.”

  Harry shrugged, “It wasn’t pleasant, but I can see myself getting used to it with how useful it is.”

  It took a minute for Hermione to recover, and they walked up the road.

  As they approached the cemetery, Harry couldn’t help but frown as he felt a slight itch in the back of his neck. He didn’t know how, but he felt as if he was being watched. He looked around warily and sniffed at the air, ignoring the strange look Hermione shot him, only for the feeling to slowly fade away. McGonnogal and Mr Weasley were ahead of them, quietly discussing something in a sad tone, and a brief look around showed nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few trees, a flower garden strategically pced close by so people could pluck some for their deceased loved ones, and an old shed.

  Harry could already see quite a few cut stems that indicated that Ron would have plenty of flowers to keep him company. The thought nearly made him chuckle as he wondered what his friend would think of that. Harry plucked a red rose to match Ron’s fiery hair. He noticed Hermione next to him plucking a white one, and he wagered she knew that different flower colours had different meanings to pce on a grave.

  He gnced at the garden as they stood up, not seeing anything but the occasional hare and bug. Harry stared at a particurly colourful beetle before Hermione nudged him on, and they entered the cemetery only for them to find a rge crowd of mostly fme-haired witches and wizards waiting patiently. Dumbledore was also there, as well as some people with official uniform robes and an air of authority who were probably ministry officials.

  Harry felt queasy to be around so many strangers but quickly got over it as a particur fsh of red hair grabbed his attention. He slowly walked towards it, barely noticing the surrounding crowd, and stopped before the coffin.

  Ron id peacefully as if he was merely asleep. Harry could see he was dressed in his favourite jumper under his Hogwarts robes. Idly, Harry noted that his hair was neatly combed so as to hide the gaping hole in his skull where the fatal rock had struck. He felt someone pce a hand on his shoulder in solidarity, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the coffin.

  Finally, Harry forced himself to look at Ron’s face, and he nearly choked out a sob. With his face cleaned up from grime and blood, Ron looked even more like Robb… aside from the freckles.

  Harry could barely remember what happened afterwards, so lost in thought about his deceased friend and Jon’s family. Someone had led him away from the coffin, and he thought it might have been Hermione who was quietly letting her tears flow.

  Numbly, he had paid his condolences to the rest of the Weasleys, but it was like he was in a dream. Intrusive thoughts occupied his mind as he wondered what had happened to Robb’s body. His father, Eddard? His sweet sisters, Sansa and Arya? Bran and Rickon? Even Catelyn Stark?

  “We are gathered here today to acknowledge a terrible loss…” It appeared that Dumbledore would officiate the ceremony as he started a speech about the tragedy that occurred in his school. Harry noticed that he and Hermione were standing with the Weasleys, compared to the rest of the crowd. He was pced between the twins and Percy, who had Scabbers on his shoulder, whereas Hermione stood next to Ginny and a blonde-haired girl he didn’t recognise. A pce of honour for the deceased’s closest friends.

  Suddenly, that itch in his neck returned with a vengeance, and he straightened his spine, burying the feelings of grief as his hand reached for the hilt of his sword, but only found his wand. He forced his grip to release the holly wood, but his fingers continued twitching idly going to where he had the Basilisk fang sheathed in the small of his back before stopping himself. The tumultuous years spent in the Watch had taught Jon to trust his instincts, and Harry could feel Ghost huffing in agreement. Slowly, almost casually, he checked his surroundings without moving his head too much. He noticed Ron’s– no, Percy’s rat now– fidgeted as he looked at him. Harry could feel magic from the rat but paid little heed—having a magical pet was not too out of the ordinary for wizards, just like Hedwig appeared to be a normal owl at first gnce, yet was anything but.

  The fidgeting rat put Harry further on edge, though, wondering if it, too, could feel that they were being watched. He looked towards the gathered crowd but sensed nothing but solemnity and subdued grief coming from them. Harry didn’t recognise anyone as most of them were dressed in bck, and the women had dark veils covering their faces. He noticed a blonde woman further back than usual standing next to an older dame, but he felt nothing unusual from them apart from slight apprehension from the blonde. Almost as if she was uncertain if she was allowed to be here.

  He was brought back to attention as Dumbledore had finished his speech and stepped away from the podium, “Arthur, Molly.”

  He shook hands with Ron’s parents, “I’m sorry for your loss as well as my abrupt departure, but duty calls. I will meet you tomorrow to finish our prior discussion.”

  “It’s okay, Albus. We understand. We’ll see you then.”

  There was a tinge of sadness, reluctance, and not a small amount of urgency in Dumbledore as his gaze roamed around the gathered crowd for a brief moment before settling on Harry. The headmaster gave him a faint nod, then simply disappeared. It reminded Harry of what Dobby had done before, yet Dumbledore had achieved the same without the loud ‘pop’. Apparition was certainly something he will look into.

  There was some murmuring from the crowd at the headmaster’s abrupt departure, and he saw Percy turn towards his father, “Why is Professor Dumbledore leaving so early?”

  “ICW’s mugwumps convene in France in ten minutes, and Dumbledore has to be there as the supreme mugwump. Your headmaster has many commitments, and it's a miracle that he even has time to come and pay his respects to Ron.”

  Arthur’s voice was quite loud, seemingly for everyone to hear, as well as to show he did not take offence at the Headmaster’s departure. The slight confusion allowed a ministry official to take over. Harry ignored the clearly well-rehearsed speech about the ministry’s stance on the tragedy, their vow to ensure all victims are paid indemnities from Lockhart’s personal funds and other such matters. Instead, he continued his search as with Dumbledore’s departure; the itch had now spread all over his spine, followed by a queer clicking sound that he could have sworn to have heard before. It was as if whatever was observing them had been waiting for the headmaster to leave. Harry knew something unpleasant would happen; he could feel it in his bones.

  A shimmer in the air caught his attention as his gaze moved towards a nearby tombstone. It was newer than most of the others, yet was at least a decade old, with the name Septimus Weasley engraved on it. Harry stared at it intently until he heard that quiet clicking noise again. It was so quiet that Harry doubted he would have heard it if not for his sharpened senses, and he finally recognised that sound as he had heard Colin use his camera for months.

  Without hesitation, Harry sprang into motion as he sprinted towards the tombstone. His sudden action surprised many, with the ministry official stuttering his speech. Within a few heartbeats, Harry had arrived at where he saw the shimmer and decisively threw a punch at it, his wand forgotten in his robe pocket. He frowned as he made contact with something hard but fleshy for barely an instant before it disappeared. Harry felt something fall over his fist and grabbed hold of it, immediately recognising it as an invisibility cloak. There was nothing underneath aside from a scurrying beetle.

  By now, the entire crowd was in uproar, and Harry was the centre of their attention. He noticed Arthur and his two eldest sons approaching. The eldest one, William, saw the shimmering cloak in his hands, and his face contorted with rage as he quickly deduced what happened.

  “WHO DARES CRASH MY BROTHER’S FUNERAL?!” Ron’s eldest brother, William, instantly had his wand out and furiously slung spells with blinding speed all over the cemetery, leaving Harry mesmerised. All of it was chantless; he could feel the older man’s potent magic bnketing him and the crowd as his spells covered the cemetery. Harry barely acknowledged Charlie standing protectively next to him while Mr Weasley calmed the crowd and the nervous ministry officials at the sight of the furious redhead releasing an angry flurry of magic.

  Finally, William appeared to have found something and threw a sickly purple spell that made Harry’s skin crawl at a distant tomb. Harry saw the curse disappear right before it hit the tomb; at the same time, a shattering crack resounded in the cemetery. At first, Harry thought the tomb was broken, yet, it looked intact. William’s scowl deepened, but he could feel a sense of vengeful satisfaction bubbling underneath.

  Charlie moved towards his brother, “Bill! Did you get him?”

  William, or well, Bill, lowered his wand with a sigh, “Whoever they were got away. Yet, I felt my curse connect. They certainly won’t have a pleasant week… Let’s speak with Dad.”

  Harry could see Mr Weasley beckoning them back towards the coffin, where the rest of the Weasley cn were speaking in hushed voices about what happened. Arthur was speaking with the older dame from earlier, as well as two other men who looked very simir to him. Harry assumed they must be his brothers.

  “Bill, what happened?”

  Bill pced a hand on his shoulder, “We all saw Harry here rushing towards grandfather’s tombstone and punching something. You felt it connect, didn’t you, Harry?”

  “Aye, I hit something, alright. They were hiding under an invisibility cloak.” At this, he raised the hand holding the cloak, “There was no one underneath it, though.”

  “I tried every detection spell I knew, and only one worked. The Animagus revealing charm. Harry, was there any animal under the cloak? Something small, perhaps?”

  Harry was confused by the term but decided to keep his questions for a better time, “just a beetle.”

  “A beetle animagus? Merlin’s beard that’s not in the registry!” The older man anxiously tugged onto his crimson curls. “It’s a nightmare catching an unregistered animagus in the first pce, but someone that can transform into something so small? And you say you managed to hit them, Bill?”

  “Yes, Uncle. They managed to Disapparate, however.” He turned to Harry, “Great job discovering them, Harry. How did you even know they were there?”

  “I saw the shimmer in the air when they moved, then heard a camera shutter.”

  Arthur’s other brother, Bilius, sucked on his teeth, “Bloody hell! You’ve got some good senses on you, son.”

  Harry nodded awkwardly. He had never spoken to these people before and only knew them from Ron’s vague description of them and his readings with Hermione on a certain book they found in the library yesterday. Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, Its test edition was dated 1990, so it should have been somewhat accurate. Horatio was Arthur’s older brother, married with children and grandchildren, while Bilius was the youngest, who never married.

  His eyes found the older woman he had seen with the blonde dy earlier. Despite the few age lines, he could see a solemn yet beautiful face underneath the veil. She had greying bck hair and familiar silvery grey eyes. “We should handle this ter, Arthur. My grandson needs to be buried, and the ministry officials must finish the ceremony and be on their way.”

  They all nodded at the older woman’s words, whom Harry was certain was Arthur's mother, Cedrel Weasley. McGonnogal had already expined yesterday that the ministry had to be present for official purposes to ensure everything went smoothly and no foul py occurred. Harry did not think foul py could happen in a burial, at least before that incident, but he understood the necessity of making sure the dead remained dead. He shuddered at the thought of an Other raising his friend as a wight, and he was absolutely certain that wizards had to have that power at their disposal.

  They returned to the rest of the family to find Percy frantically searching for something. All that commotion seemed to have scared Scabbers, who had scurried away into hiding.

  A*L*S*M

  The burial proceeded without any more hitches. Once the officials finished their part of the ceremony, it was time for the deceased's family and close friends to say a few words in remembrance. Harry and Hermione were granted that honour once Ron’s family had said their piece.

  “A few years ago, I decided to take my son to my office in the Ministry,” Arthur took a deep shuddering breath and wiped his shimmering eyes. “He loved it, and not only that, but Ron managed to make friends with a handful of auror trainees. It was one of the happiest days of his life, and I could swear that my boy would follow in their footsteps. Yet… it was not meant to be… No father should ever have to bury his son. Yet, I… I… thank you.”

  Acceptance, regret, and a sliver of fury warred on Arthur’s face as he clenched his jaw and stepped down.

  Next was the eldest son.

  Bill brought out some ughs when he recalled how he taught Ron how to fly a broom, and they both crashed into the pond when they got too adventurous chasing a sparrow. It was a strange sight for some of the people in attendance when they compared the sad yet light-hearted man to when he was furiously casting spells earlier.

  Charlie followed, recounting the time Ron had smuggled a dragon egg into school and hatched it right under McGonnogal’s nose, much to the older woman’s astonishment, and how he and his friends sneaked into school to smuggle it out. The clear exaggeration and embellishment were meant to lighten the mood further without mentioning Hagrid or Harry. He didn’t mind; this was Ron’s hour, after all, and so what if the ministry learns? They can't arrest the dead. A shame Hagrid couldn’t make it. Harry learned that he suffered some mady from his stay in Azkaban and needed to be treated for it.

  Mrs Weasley had maintained a completely bnk face throughout the burial; even during the incident with the hidden cameraman, she didn’t react much, opting to simply stare at her son’s corpse. That mask was completely broken when it was finally her turn to speak, and she broke into hysterical sobs. Mr Weasley held her closely as she incessantly bmed herself for not repcing Ron’s wand, no matter how expensive it could get. She bmed herself for things that no one truly bmed her for, such as not being there enough for Ron or being too strict on him.

  Harry wholeheartedly disagreed and felt heavily for the kind matronly woman. She was a wonderful mother, all things considered, and simply had too much on her pte to be always present for every little thing.

  The twins and Percy mumbled out a few words to the open coffin, but it was clear that they were completely lost on what to say. Harry doubted they ever had a serious conversation with their te brother.

  Ginny couldn't form a single coherent word from her sobs and had to be gently led away by Bill when she colpsed on Ron’s chest and wailed in grief. Harry sighed inwardly, as the scene still looked surreal, with Ginny looking so much like Sansa. Her brother died trying to save her life, and while there was no nobler death than dying for a loved one, it was never easy for those that remained to bury you.

  After listening to all his family speak, Harry had the feeling that aside from Mr Weasley and his two eldest sons, none of the Weasleys truly knew Ron.

  Finally, Arthur asked for Harry and Hermione to say a few words in Ron’s honour. Harry obliged, and after thinking a bit, he stood behind the coffin, facing the crowd.

  “Ron is…” he choked, “was my best friend. Brave like a lion, loyal to a fault, there was nobody else who I’d rather stay by my side. Though… I’ll admit that we might have crossed the line of recklessness somewhere on the way once or twice,” a wan chuckle escaped Harry’s lips. “I doubt many people would have the courage to steal their father’s enchanted car and fly it to the other end of the country because they missed the Hogwarts Express.”

  Many people in the crowd chortled at that; even Mrs Weasley had a wet smile as she mumbled something about her stupid boy. Mr Weasley looked chagrined as the remainder of his illegal charming of the car was still fresh, but a warm smile had spread upon his face.

  “Yet, that pales compared to when Ron faced his greatest fears head-on and prevailed with me against overwhelming odds. I shall not bore you with the details, suffice to say it entailed a night stroll through the Forbidden Forest and escaping hundreds of Acromantus.” Harry turned towards the coffin itself as the crowd either ughed or gasped at his tale. “You were the greatest friend anyone could ask for, Ronald Weasley. You shall be sorely missed.”

  Harry stepped back before nudging Hermione forward. She looked surprisingly shy at the prospect of speaking to so many strangers, but one look at the coffin and she had a determined look on her face. She took a deep breath before she faced the crowd, “Harry has already spoken of Ron’s bravery and courage. A true Gryffindor through and through. I would like to speak of his loyalty and good nature, for I shall never forget the day I was trapped in a bathroom with a troll, only for Ron and Harry to come and save me. Ron used the troll’s own club to knock it out, thus saving my life.”

  There was some positive murmuring from the crowd, and Harry was fbbergasted that no one seemed to bat an eye about how a troll even made it inside the school. Magicals must be used to such craziness on a regur basis.

  “I was crudely called a mudblood by a pureblood boy earlier this year, and even with his broken wand, Ron did not hesitate to challenge the boy for insulting my honour.” Harry heard some of the crowd tutting their tongue at the slur but noticed the blonde woman from earlier shift awkwardly at that, and he filed it away.

  Hermione turned to the coffin, “You were a great friend Ron. We might have started out on the wrong foot, but you were always ready and willing to give a hand whenever needed.” She giggled a bit at the thought, “At least so long as I helped you with your homework first.”

  Hermione stepped back to her spot, and with all farewells done, Mr Weasley waved his wand, and the coffin closed with finality before it was lowered into the hole. The entire process of the actual burial didn’t take more than a minute, thanks to magic, before a new tombstone joined the hedge of tombs. Everyone in attendance pced a flower on the tomb before giving a personal prayer.

  “Harry, would you do the honours of an epitaph?”

  Harry was shocked by Mr Weasley’s offer. He looked at the rest of the Weasleys only to find them all nodding and giving him supporting looks. Harry nodded in return and thought deeply before he decided on a suitable line.

  RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY

  BORN 1 MARCH 1980

  DIED 29 MAY 1993

  Ever Valorous, Ever Loyal

  A*L*S*M

  They had just left the cemetery and were standing in line to disapparate back to the Burrow for the Wake. Hermione had rejoined Ginny and her friend, while Harry found himself next to Bill Weasley.

  “I’d like to thank you again for noticing that creep, Harry. The sheer gall of some people to crash a funeral like this…”

  “It’s the least I could do, William. Such audacity should never be tolerated. The dead deserve all the respect due to them, especially during their funeral.”

  The older man smiled gently. He was tall, athletic, and handsome. The tallest of his siblings and even taller than his father. Just like all the Weasleys, he had red hair that he wore in a long ponytail, and he had an earring with a fang dangling from it. Unlike the rest of his siblings, he didn’t have any freckles. Instead, his sunkissed skin had a pleasant bronze hue, which would make sense considering he worked in Egypt. To be honest, from all the stories that Harry had heard about the man from Ron, he expected him to be more like Percy. More serious and stuffy than all his siblings considering his academic achievements. Yet, if he could describe him in one word, it would be… cool. Or maybe fmboyant.

  “Please call me Bill. Ron always mentioned you and Hermione in his letters to me.”

  “All good things, I hope?”

  “Mostly on how great of a seeker you are and how awesome he is for beating the great Harry Potter in chess.”

  Harry chortled, “It was the only two things we differed from each other. We were pretty simir academically, with Hermione being the overachiever of our group. Ron told me you were quite the prodigy yourself.”

  Bill chuckled but waved his hand, “A topic for ter, perhaps. Now, Harry.” The older man had a serious expression on his face, “do you still have that invisibility cloak?”

  Harry nodded, patting a pocket on the inside of his robe. Opposite to his own invisibility cloak that he vowed never to go anywhere without.

  “That’s good. Keep it; it’s yours now.”

  Harry cocked his head. He wasn’t going to let anyone take it from him anyway; it was his spoils after all. Still, “You sure you don’t want it?”

  “I don’t need a cloak to be invisible. I’m sure you could make more use of it in school. Maybe when you need a spot of privacy for your girl?”

  Harry recalled Dumbledore mentioning something simir in his first year, and he wagered there was a spell to go invisible.

  “Thanks, Bill. I have a couple of questions, though. You mentioned Animagus earlier and a way to go invisible without a cloak. Could you tell me about it? And what was that curse you used?”

  “Seeing as we have to wait for everyone to disapparate to get back home, might as well. Ask me anything else as well while we’re at it. You’re practically family.”

  Harry smiled and listened to Bill’s expnations. His mind wandered to Ron, however. He was surprised that Bill didn’t know he already owned an invisibility cloak. Did Ron not tell him? He will miss having such a reliable friend. Now the question was, what to do with that extra cloak?

  If you like my works and would like me to ease up on the overtime shifts and write more instead, then feel free to leave me a tip. My Patre(on) name is the same as my pen name. The full link is on my profile.

  I was tempted to rush through the funeral but found myself too invested in Ron’s final farewell. Ron is one of my favourite characters and deserves at least this much from me. Not to mention the Weasleys, in general, are such a colourful cn. It would be criminal not to use them.

  Yes, Molly was fully in an Occlumency trance to cope. Sadly, she isn't very good at it and ended up losing control.

  Editor’s Note: Ron’s friendship with Harry has had no hiccups just yet, so having fond memories of his first and best friend is a given, especially when blinded by the Robb parallel.

  Our favourite paparazzi nearly got herself killed by an angry Weasley, and for what? That remains to be seen. At least she was smart enough to wait for Dumbledore to leave before she transformed to take those pictures. You can’t use a camera as a beetle, after all. How no one recognized her when Bill caught her was due to a quick disillusionment charm. Rita Skeeter was a talented witch and I have no intention of changing that.

  Without Ron, Wormtail would be super fidgety. Bill’s usage of the Animagus Revealing charm spooked him so much that he decided it was time for a vacation.