Return (Part 1)
“To be a knight, he has to fight. To fight, he needs to leave those he loves and return to where he once belonged.”
Chapter 1: RETURN Pt. 1
After leaving the Summers residence, Ron appeared in Los Angeles. He wanted to buy an illegal portkey and LA was full of all kind of places to buy any sort of unsavory magical items.
He probably could have used the delluminator, but he didn’t really trust it not to take him back to Buffy’s home.
No shopkeeper that had morals was selling portkeys to England nowadays. That meant that he had to visit more than a couple of bazaars and had to pay an over the top amount, but he got it: one portkey that would get him to the outskirts of Ottery St.Catchpole, just in front of The Burrow.
He had pretty much half an hour to wait until the portkey activated. He could go to visit Angel, but he doubted the vampire would appreciate his presence. After all, to him he was the kid that stole Buffy away from him.
Twenty more minutes to go. He wondered what would happen once he saw Harry and Hermione again. They’d be angry of course. He’d be bloody angry if he was in their position. Would they still be as he remembered them? Merlin knew that HE had changed.
Fifteen minutes now. How would his family react? Would his mom hug him? Would his father ask about muggles or just look at him with disappointment? Would one of his brothers punch him? He just hoped that whoever did it wasn’t Ginny, she’d always had a mean right hook.
Ten more minutes, just ten and he would be back. He hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d longed to see his rickety house. He pictured it in his head, even if he was scared to
death of facing his family, he was more than ready to see his childhood home again.
Eight minutes. Did he have everything he’d need?
The portkey? Check, it was on his hand. His wand always remained in its holster, so there was no doubt that he had it. The rucksack he carried had basic necessities, such as clothes, pictures, some stakes, daggers and his old cell phone.
Five minutes. He started walking towards an alley so he wouldn’t be seen disappearing.
Merlin he was scared. More than the time he had to meet Buffy’s mother (Xander had spent a whole week fooling him into believe dreadful things about her after all), definitely more petrified than when he found Willow crying because of Oz.
He reached an alley. Three minutes now. Merlin, they were going to despise him, he knew it.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It didn’t have to matter to him. After all he wasn’t going there to have a family reunion. He was going to fight! Besides, when it was all over he’d return to Buffy. He’d return to her and then he would deserve her.
It was better if he didn’t get attached to anyone, he’d have to leave them eventually.
The portkey would activate any minute now. When the time was right, he felt a pull across his navel. After a rather nauseating trip, he found himself in an open field. He turned around, and then once again, but he saw nothing more than uneven and unkempt patches of grass. If he looked hard enough though, he thought he could see Ottery St. Catchpole at some distance.
Surely, the protection wards that had been set on his sixth year were still active and has altered the course of his portkey. Maybe his memory of Ottery St. Catchpole and The Burrow was sketchier than he had thought. His house could have been farer from the village than he remembered, plus the field in which he was standing looked oddly familiar.
If he remembered correctly (and he did not think he was wrong) he just had to walk heading South West and The Burrow should eventually appear.
Ron turned around a few times. He knew that the village was on a general North direction (at least he thought that), so South had to be the opposite direction. Now which way was East and West? His left or right? He scratched his head confused, he should have paid attention to Willow when she tried to explain him her orientation techniques! It wasn’t his fault really, Xander and him had been planning a post slaying party and Buffy’s hair smelled intoxicating that morning. Willow had been pretty mad when she saw he wasn’t listening to her, she had put on her resolve face and had threatened to levitate a pencil and smack him with it.
“Levitate! Seriously Ron are you a wizard or not?” He laughed at himself. Even though he had kept on using his magic, living like a muggle (and fighting demons mostly like one) had paid its toll.
His wand pointed North, after a quick adjustment of the spell he got it to point towards the south east and he started walking on that direction. He walked until the sun was high above his head. At that moment he couldn’t even see Ottery St. Catchpole, but there still wasn’t any sign of his old house.
Where was The Burrow? Had he taken the wrong way? He’d been sure that The Burrow was South East from the town, but maybe he was wrong.
Ron was confused, incredibly confused. Maybe he should try another path. He apparated back to where the Portkey had taken him, so he could try again.
Once again he looked around. Which way to go?
“What’s that?” Ron asked himself. There was a small pile of lumber to his left.
Curious, he walked towards it, not noticing he was using a well worn path.
Dread started building in his stomach. Because every step he took towards the wood showed him that it wasn’t as small as he had thought and that it wasn’t just timber but the remains of something.
He quickened his pace. Once he reached it Ron started franticly rummaging through it. He needed to find something, anything that would guarantee him that those broken pieces did not belong to his home. Something that would show him that the portkey had been way off. That the bloody shopkeeper had ripped him off.
He was knee deep into the mess of wood - or what was left of it for it was all burnt- when his dirty hands stumbled upon a small object that had survived the destruction.
Ron held it in his hand, afraid to look at it. Feeling like a coward, he tried to guess what it was merely by taking in its shape. A shape that was oddly familiar.
“Come on mate, just do it. Don’t be such a poof.” He could almost hear Spike laughing at him.
There wasn’t any reason to worry. Not until he saw what it was there. Maybe he was wrong and it was just some random object.
Closing his eyes, he opened his hand. He counted to three and opened them.
A plug. It was a plug. That meant that he was kneeling over the remains of his father’s shed. He looked up. The place to which he had just apparated, the place where nothing lived but unkempt patches of grass was all that was left of The Burrow.
How could he have been so stupid? Why did he think everything would stay the same? How had this happened? Was it at the middle of the night? Had someone lost his life?
He felt dizzy.
Could he have stopped it?
Everything was spinning.
"Why? Why did I leave?"
I'm really sorry for taking so long.
Please review if you have any opinions!
oh! I almost forgot. Could anyone explain to me how to format my story? I can't seem to get a hang of it!