~•~•~•~
| Ronald Weasley, Aged eight. |
~•~•~•~

I was walking with my brothers, Fred and George, across a cobblestone road to the Lovegoods' to pick up Ginny, my sister, when I heard a scream. Seeing that the twins were walking a little ways ahead of me, joking with each other, and didn't seem to have heard the noise, I peeked down a dark, uneven alley and saw something that would haunt me years later...

There, on the gravelly ground, was a body, a body with a bloody knife protruding out of its stomach. I gave a small scream of my own, alerting my brothers, when I saw a shadow move near the body, that was when I spotted a figure dressed in black muggle clothes, standing beside the now-dead teenage boy, hands still slick with blood.

I didn't notice as the twins tried to get me to run. I just stood, frozen, unable to move, staring into those lifeless eyes...the figure didn't seem to have a wand, so I guessed they were a muggle. They looked up, their brown eyes locked with my blue, and I ran, the twins running with me. I ran faster than I ever had before, only one thought flashing through my head: what if that happened to Ginny?

~•~•~•~
| Ronald Weasley, Aged nine. |
~•~•~•~

I turned in disgust as my mother praised Percy, for whatever he'd done well this time. "Perfect for a Prefect Percy..." I muttered, sneering. I strode away from my perfect brother and back into the house. Today was the Yearly and Useful Celebration of Kinship, or, as the twins liked to call it, the YUCK.

Basically, it was a party that all of the Weasley family attended, and I mean ALL. There were a lot of cousins that I only saw at the YUCK, all of whom I couldn't care less about. I sat down on my bed upstairs. I didn't have to worry about being 'caught' inside; they barely noticed me outside, so they surely wouldn't miss me if I went inside. I would finally be alone...

And I was right with that theory, for the most part anyway. Neither my mother nor my father came into the house to find me; in fact, none of the adults did. Strangely though, when I looked out of my window, seeing a view over the rather large front garden, filled with ginger heads, I couldn't, for the life of me, find Fred and George...

Just as I realized this, a knock sounded at my door. "You reckon he's in here, Fred?" A voice sounded from behind the wood. "Definitely, George," an almost identical voice said back.

No...I must have misheard...no one would have missed me...right? I was practically invisible to them.... Suddenly, the sound of a lock turning snapped me from my thoughts. I looked over at the door sharply, watching as two identical red-heads entered. "Ronniekins!" The one on the left cried as he bounded over to me.

"Hey guys...why aren't you down there with the others?" I asked them, confused. They both looked at me with twin looks of questioning. "Why would we be down at the YUCK when we could be up here? Plus Mum's obsessed with perfect Percy and his perfect ready-to-be-a-Prefect test scores. It's not like anyone will know that we left. We're practically invisible unless we do some stupid stunt..." The right-sided twin told me.

I smiled slightly; they would rather be here with me... But then again, those remarks about 'Oh Percy! Such perfect marks! Oh, good job! Ron, why can't you be more like your brother?' were getting tiring. I sneered inwardly, Perfect to be a Prefect Percy.

~•~•~•~
| Ron Weasley, aged ten. |
~•~•~•~

I was walking home one afternoon when I heard a shriek followed by loud sobs. I changed course and ran to the sounds of begs and pleas. What I saw horrified me and filled me with anger and fury I couldn't understand.

Curled up into herself was the unmistakable form of Ginny Weasley. She was cornered by four teenage boys. All four were incredibly big and looked very strong. However, my fury blinded my better judgment, and I ran up to them. "Hey! Stop! That's my sister!!!" I shouted, seeing red.

One of the boys turned from where he was trying to kick Ginny in the face to sneer at me. "Oh yeah? What you gonna do about it?" I could see that Ginny was being restrained by two of them while the other two beat her. One of them wielded a large stick, using it to hit her mercilessly.

"I'll fight you!" I shouted in a fit of rage. The boy scoffed. "Hey guys! Lookie here, we've got ourselves a hero!" The others laughed along with him, their cruel laughter echoing in my ears. My heart rate increased drastically when I saw one of the boys pull out a knife. He inserted it into Ginny's arm. Almost teasingly, he worked down to her hand. Her gasp of pain and fear tore through my ears, adrenaline pumping through my veins. The glint of metal in my sister's arm was the snapping point for me.

I charged at them. My limbs moved instinctively, flying with fury and desperation, trying desperately to connect with every bit of flesh they could.

I delivered a blow to the boy who had the knife, making him stagger back, dropping his weapon and letting me pick it up.

I grabbed it, holding the hilt with unwavering confidence. I swung it around wildly; the blade made a sharp metal hiss in the air. Finally, I managed to stab one boy's hand, making him shriek in pain, his howls echoing around the alley.

Just as I thought I could have the upper hand, that maybe I would be able to save my sister, a fist came from nowhere. The world swam as I faded in and out of consciousness.

By the time I had regained full awareness, my heart sank. I was already restrained by one of the boys, trapped.

~•~•~•~
| Ginny Weasley, aged eight. |
~•~•~•~

I had only meant to leave the garden for a few minutes. I was supposed to stay in safe range of the house, but my curiosity got the better of me. The trouble started when I was walking down a beautiful, but deserted, cobblestone alley. No lights glinted from people's windows, but stray flowers littered the street.

Suddenly, I heard a laugh from behind me. I turned around only to find myself cornered by four large boys. They started to approach, cornering me even more. "What've we got here?" one asked in a deep voice. The smoke from his cigarette made me cough.

I shivered slightly in fear. "Aww, look at that, little Weasley. Are you scared?" one said teasingly. Tears pooled in my eyes. I was starting to get really scared now; they were closing me into the corner. I started to back up fearfully, letting out a tiny squeak when my back hit the stone alley wall.

"Where are your big brothers now? Little Ginny Weasley all alone." This one had a nasally, sneering voice. I tried to gather my courage, my strength, my Gryffindor bravery. Clenching my fists, I willed them away. Maybe accidental magic would work. Suddenly, the boys got pushed back slightly, as though an invisible force was protecting me...

The largest boy, who I assumed was the leader, shouted angrily at me, "What do you think you're doing?!? Freak!" I shifted in terror, my blood pumping fiercely through my veins. I was terrified. One of the larger ones advanced on me. "Little Ginevra, where's your mummy now, huh? Little baby all alone. You gonna cry for her? Huh? Go on, try it. Maybe she'll hear you." He taunted, his face twisting with cruelty.

A tall, lanky boy pushed forward, his face centimeters from my own. His brown eyes twisted maliciously. The boy grabbed my arm tightly, smirking coldly as I squirmed. "Hold still, Ginny. I wanna see how long you can stay quiet before you scream!" He dug his fingernails into my flesh, eliciting a sharp gasp from me.

I started to cry. The boy holding my arm sneered at me, laughing along with his buddies. He turned me around. I squirmed more, not wanting to let them out of my sight. He managed to turn me fully to the wall, shoving the back of my head so that my face banged into the cold, hard stone. My nose started to gush blood.

I choked on the red liquid pouring out of me. My mouth tasted of iron. Suddenly, he pulled my hair. I shrieked, full-on sobbing now. "Cry baby, cry baby," they chanted, their words echoing in my mind. Cry baby, cry baby. The boy tugged on my hair again, pulling it so hard that I was bent backward, my face turned up towards them.

I sobbed harder, my cries echoing in the small desolate alley. They laughed. The boy holding my hair punched me in the face. More blood poured out of my nose; I was sure it was broken now. He shoved me to the floor, leaving me a bloody mess on the cobbles.

Behind him, a stocky boy with messy blond hair picked up a stick, Behind him, a stocky boy with messy blond hair picked up a stick. He walked over to me. I tried to protect myself, but it didn't matter. Two boys restrained me while the other beat me with the stick. The sharp spikes punctured my skin.

Once they were finally done with the stick, one, the leader, pulled out a knife. My blood froze. He brought it to my skin. I hissed in pain; they were shallow cuts, but cuts nonetheless. He sneered at me, "Don't move, or this knife goes deeper, understand?" As if to emphasize his point, he pushed the knife ever so slightly deeper. I let out a scream of terror, and one of the boys holding me covered my mouth.

They jeered at me, the sounds playing over and over again in my head. The one holding my mouth muttered in my ear, "If you make even a shriek of noise..." He trailed off, but the threat was clear. I nodded as much as I could, terror pounding in my head.

Regardless of their own rule, the one with the knife shouted at me, "Beg! Beg for mercy! You freak!" No, I thought. They could do what they wanted, but I'd never beg. The knife dug even deeper into my shoulder. Tears rolled down my face as another one kicked my gut. A thud sounded as another's boot connected with my ribs. I smelt rubber when a shoe connected with my face. Weight was added more and more when he stood on my face, trying to balance, much to the joy of his friends. When he got off, he spat on me just as my mouth opened for a scream. The spit passed my lips and settled on my tongue. I gagged, crying, silently begging for it to be over.

"Beg, Weasley! Beg for mercy! We might just grant it!" He told me with a sneer that said they would absolutely not grant it. He kicked my chest, winding me. One that was holding me started to pull on my hair, not all of it at once, but nine or ten strands at a time, trying to drag me across the ground. My scalp burned as hair was pulled out. One lit a lighter and started to set fire to my hair. My scalp burned more. I bawled, trying not to beg. Thankfully, they put out the fire before it got too bad. Tears stained my burned face, and ash from my burnt hair littered my scalded scalp. Finally, I gave in, "Please! Please stop! Please!" I begged, much to their satisfaction. Unfortunately, they didn't seem fully satisfied even then.

The boy with the knife dug deeper into my skin. I let out a short scream. All four boys turned to me, their expressions pure mutiny. "I said no, more, noise," one whispered to me. The leader took his cigarette out of his mouth. "Perhaps this'll shut her up a bit?" I shook my head frantically.

No matter my silent pleas, he pressed the hot embers to my neck. A muffled yell sounded as he stroked it across my skin. "This'll really give you something to remember us by," he said. That was when they picked up the stick again. Two of them restrained me with what was left of my hair, and one stood, guarding, while the other beat me mercilessly. I begged and pleaded to no effect.

That was when the most welcome sound that could arrive, arrived.

"Hey! Stop! That's my sister!"

~•~•~•~
| Ronald Weasley, Aged ten. |
~•~•~•~

By the time I had regained full awareness, my heart sank. I was already restrained by one of the boys, trapped.

They started to beat Ginny again, laughing and jeering as she pleaded. "Look, Weasley! Look at this!" one shouted in my ear, making it ring. He proceeded to walk over to Ginny and started to tear at her clothing, leaving her bare as they jeered. They took her small bag and emptied the contents onto the road, stamping on them, destroying them.

They gathered handfuls of dirt and grime, throwing it at both of us and spitting on us. Then, one boy pulled out a long, sharp knife, reminiscent of the one I still saw dripping with blood in my nightmares. He stood over Ginny.

Flashes of the past clouded my vision. The screams I remembered from that day rattled in my ears. I heard the echoes of my own thoughts: What if that happened to Ginny?

I snapped.

Magic gathered in my core and burst out of me, I screamed, a raw, desperate sound as we were apparated home, the boys pushed to the ground. We fell on the soft grass of our front garden and blacked out.