Ron Potter and the Next Generation by PEMDAS
Chapter Notes: I hope you still don't hate me for the end of Ch. 15...but if you stick with me for about five more chapters, I think you will be pleased with the ending at some level. Enjoy Ch. 16!
At the top of the elevator shaft, Ron, Harry, and the Order members met several Ministry officials, including the Minister of Magic. A few of them Apparated the obviously-injured away to St. Mungo’s, such as Harry, and everyone else was checked for any injury that would be considered serious. Ron was immediately released, but he felt very numb inside. He heard the Healer that was checking him mention “suffering from shock” to another Healer, and he figured they were right, but he didn’t care any more. His father was gone.
His mother, who was normally a well-composed person, was sitting off to one side on a tree stump, tears streaming silently down her face. Ron had spilled his share of tears, and now he just wanted to lie down. Kingsley Shacklebolt was talking with the Minister, and they seemed to be talking about Ron. After a while, Kingsley walked over and kneeled down to look into Ron’s face.
“The Minister wants to speak with you,” he told the boy, “but I told him you wouldn’t want to talk. Correct?”
“Yes,” Ron said, thankful for Kingsley’s thoughtfulness. “I just want to go back to Hogwarts now.”
“All right, Ron,” Kingsley said. “I’ll have Professor McGonagall escort you back to the castle.”
Ron nodded, and McGonagall walked over. She took his arm in his, turned on the spot, and Apparated away. Ron, who had grown used to the sensation of Apparation, was still emotionless as they appeared right outside the gates of Hogwarts. McGonagall led him up the pathway to the front doors, turning towards him. “Ron, you may go up to Gryffindor Tower now,” she said. “Your cousin will join you in a short time, when he is released from St. Mungo’s, which should be within a few hours.”
“Yes, Professor,” Ron said, nodding. He entered the castle as McGonagall walked back down to the gate to Apparate back to the forest. He didn’t meet anyone on his way up to the seventh floor, and he wondered if any of the students had heard of the incident. When he arrived at the portrait of the Pink Lady, she saw him and gave a small gasp.
“Ron Potter!” she exclaimed. “Is it true? Did you find the hideout of the Death Eaters and take them on single-handedly.
“Sort of,” Ron muttered tiredly. “My cousin was with me...and we didn’t fight them until the Order of the Phoenix arrived...”
“Thank goodness you’re alive,” was all the Pink lady said before swinging open. Ron walked through the portrait hole into the common room, and the hushed mutterings of the other Gryffindors quieted as they saw Ron.
“Is it true?” a second-year asked. “Did you find the Death Eaters in the forest?”
“Yes,” Ron said as he walked towards the dorms, not making eye contact with anyone.
“And did you fight them single-handedly?” another girl asked.
Ron turned to face them all right before ascending the winding staircase. “No,” he said. “Harry Weasley and I got captured, and my dad rescued us...then he sacrificed himself to let us escape.” With that, he turned to walk up to the dormitory, leaving the gasps of shock and horror behind him.
When he got to the dormitories, he walked right over to his four-poster, and flopped onto it without changing out of his clothes. It was hard to believe that, just half a day ago, he had been in Hogsmeade, visiting the shops, not a care in the world...and now his father was dead, his cousin and half of the Order of the Phoenix was in St. Mungo’s, and it was all his fault...for thinking too highly of himself and acting rashly. He had disobeyed his father, and now the great Harry Potter’s death hung over his head.
***
The next morning, Ron discovered just how big of a deal the incident had been. The Daily Prophet had had a field day; Ron was lucky he’d gotten to Hogwarts before the papers arrived at the forest. He entered the Great Hall and discovered that the entire Hall was draped in black: black curtains, black drapes...even the enchanted ceiling was covered with dark black clouds. His delivery owl brought him the morning Prophet, and he read the front headline:
DEATH OF A HERO
Last night, the great Harry Potter, 31, died in the Dark Forest outside Hogwarts grounds after apprehending the four dozen escaped Death Eaters. The Death Eaters were hiding in an underground Muggle structure deep in the forest, eluding magical scans of the past and getting inside information from a student at Hogwarts, whose father was the leader of the group of the late Voldemort’s supporters.
Potter’s son, Ron, a student at Hogwarts, had somehow discovered the location of the hidden Dark wizards and witches, and he, along with his cousin, Harry Weasley, another student, decided to apprehend them on their own. According to Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, “Potter and Weasley were captured, and [Harry Potter] managed to break them out. Long story short, we arrived, there was a fight, and the Order escaped. Potter and the Death Eaters did not.”
Potter, Sr. had apparently decided that the battle was not going in the Order of the Phoenix’s favor, so he sacrificed himself by destroying a crucial support column and bringing the entire structure down upon himself and the Death Eaters. Potter had been seriously weakened by a Poisoning Curse, designed to kill the receiver within an hour of casting the spell. A search of the rubble brought up no discovery of Potter’s body, although the bodies of several of the Death Eaters were found.
Ron Potter declined to comment on the subject. However, several Order members spoke about the (ctd. page 5)
When everyone in the hall had read about the incident, people were approaching Ron left and right, asking him to recount the events in the forest for them. He declined them all politely, and halfway through breakfast, when Harry walked into the hall, looking tired but wholly all right, the students ran over to bug him about it. Harry sat down next to Ron, attempting to smile.
“They say I got hit with a Fiendfyre curse,” Harry said. “Luckily for me, it missed my heart, or it might have killed me. It fried my stomach, though, and they said that I can’t eat solid foods for a while.”
“That stinks,” Ron said, and Harry reached for a plate of pancakes, and after smashing them down with his fork into a mush, he began eating gingerly, grimacing occasionally.
“Still haven’t found your dad?” Harry said quietly to Ron, who wasn’t touching his breakfast.
“No,” Ron said, swallowing painfully. He didn’t want to talk about his father at the moment, and he changed the subject. “Do you think they’ll have classes today?”
“I doubt it,” Harry said. “I mean, the death of Harry Potter is probably the worst thing to happen to the wizarding world since the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998.”
“Good,” Ron muttered. “I don’t feel up to thinking today.”
Harry started to laugh, but realized Ron wasn’t trying to be funny and fell silent instantly, going back to his pancakes.
Sure enough, near the end of breakfast, McGonagall stood up and announced that all classes had been cancelled. She then led a toast to “the great Harry Potter, who contributed more to the wizarding world than any wizard or witch in history”, and she dismissed the students to do as they pleased. The Slytherins were somewhat subdued throughout the day, as the other children of Death Eaters were interrogated by Ministry officials, and all the Slytherins felt targeted, yet the only Slytherin convicted of communication with Death Eaters was Marilyn Malfoy.
“Who’s going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts now?” someone wondered aloud in the common room that afternoon, where Ron and Harry had been talking quietly while sitting in front of the fire.
“They probably have a backup teacher for the job,” Ron said to the kid. “My dad said once, Professor Hagrid was gone for half of the year, and they had a replacement teacher fill in.”
“Yeah, well they had plenty of notice, didn’t they?” another boy, a fifth-year, said. “They only have a day or so to find someone else.”
The answer came a few hours later, at dinner. As everyone ate, talking quietly amongst themselves, McGonagall stood up. “Attention, please,” she said, and everyone quieted down. “I have two people I wish to introduce you to. First, as you know, the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts has been vacated.” Everyone nodded in recognition of this statement, which avoided saying the obvious. “I’d like to introduce the replacement teacher: Professor Ginny Potter.” Ron cricked his neck turning his head so fast; his mother was sitting at the end of the High Table, waving politely at everyone and smiling slightly.
“Second,” McGonagall said, “Professor Longbottom is currently resting in St. Mungo’s with injures sustained last night, and will recover within weeks. His replacement is also here: Professor Hermione Weasley.” Again, Ron whipped his head to face his aunt, who was also smiling at them all.
“Classes will resume tomorrow morning,” McGonagall said, and sat back down, and the talking started up again.
“Is your mum any good at DADA?” a third-year asked Ron.
“Is YOUR mum any good at Herbology?” someone else asked Harry.
“My mum once took on three boys a year older than her and won,” Ron told the third-year.
“And my mum went through Hogwarts as the top of her class in everything,” Harry said. Both boys knew their mothers were capable of filling in for a few weeks, but wondered whether the substitutions could teach at Professor Potter’s standards. Just thinking of the words “Professor Potter” made Ron’s stomach lurch. He had gotten over crying and feeling sick, but he still could not believe what had happened. After dinner, he walked up to the High Table and greeted his mother.
“Hi, Mum,” he said.
“Hello, Ron,” Ginny Potter said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Ron said, nodding slowly. “It’s just...”
“I know,” Ginny said, reaching out and gripping her son’s hand encouragingly. “Listen...Dad’s funeral is set for tomorrow night. They’re going to lay him to rest next to Professor Dumbledore’s grave.”
Ron nodded, getting choked up at the thought of his father being put to rest. “I’ll be there,” he muttered, and walked out of the Great Hall, up to his four-poster in the dormitory. He changed into his pajamas, crawled under his sheets, and fell into a restless sleep.
***
Author’s Note: Well, the funeral chapter is up next...the whole point of this chapter was to show just what a blow it was to the wizarding world to lose a great wizard like Harry Potter. The fic is almost over, but I do have a few tricks left up my sleeve...you won’t be disappointed or bored (I hope) with the closure of this story. Thanks for reading so far; stick with it! I’m almost done! Please review!