Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Harry Potter series. That credit goes to the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling. Go Jo! I also do not own some of the material used. Again that belongs to Jo and Warner Brothers.
Chapter 1 Lord Voldemort's Request/Prelude
It had hardly been a fortnight since the start of the summer holidays, and Ron knew that something was wrong. According to his dad, Arthur Weasley, the Ministry of Magic was trying to act like Harry Potter, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, and Albus Dumbledore, the current headmaster of Hogwarts, were lying, and that the Dark Lord wasn't back.
"It plays into the Dark Lord's plan perfectly," Mr. Weasley said from behind the newspaper. Ron just sat in silence and ate his breakfast, all though he wasn't at all hungry, which was very rare. "Fudge is in a great deal of denial."
Ron glanced over at the newspaper his father was looking at, and then took another forced mouthful of eggs just to have something to do.
He had stopped reading the Daily Prophet as soon as it had started printing lies about Harry and Dumbledore. He usually didn't read the paper, but Hermione told him that this might happen, and wanted to see if she was right, which of course she was.
Ron was lying on his stomach later on that day, writing a letter to Hermione, when a knock came at his door.
"Come in," he said, shoving the letter into his pillowcase.
Mr. Weasley peeked his head into the room and said, "Ron, you're requested downstairs."
"Request…" he began, but then realized what it meant. "Oh, right."
Ron walked extra slowly down the stairs. This was it, he was sure of it. He only wished that he would've sent Hermione that letter before walking to his death.
"Good afternoon, Ronald," the cold voice of Voldemort said as Ron walked into the kitchen the area.
A pale, nonhuman-looking man, sat at the head of the table. He had red eyes and slits for nostrils. Ron suddenly got the image of a human-snake inbreed gone horribly wrong.
"My Lord," Ron said, bowing low.
"I am pleased that you continue to befriend Mr. Potter and Miss… Granger," Voldemort said as Ron sat down at the other end of the table.
It was now Ron wished his mother or mother were by his side. He just knew he was taking his last breaths here on Earth.
"Thank you, my Lord," Ron said, not daring to say anything else.
"They still believe your family to be… innocent?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes," Ron immediately nodded, now feeling the smallest bit of hope.
"Very good," Voldemort said, putting ghis hands together now. "I wish you to continue this and report Potter's actions to Serverus, or as you know him, Professor Snape."
"Of course, my lord," Ron said, his mind now fool of confusion. How didn't he know this about his Head of House? All though he wasn't really that surprised.
As Ron walked back up the stairs, only one thing was on his mind. His letter to Hermione. No matter how much wanted to tell Hermione and Harry about this, Ron knew he couldn't. He'd have to do what he was told, or he'd truly die. That wasn't something he could do to Hermione… and even to Harry if he was being truthful with himself.
As he lay in bed, Ron wondered what Harry and Hermione were doing right now… if they were okay.