The door closed behind the others, leaving Ron and Snape alone together. Ron swallowed convulsively, dreading the professor’s opening words, but Snape was unexpectedly silent. After what felt like an eternity, Ron couldn’t stand it anymore. He fearfully raised his eyes to Snape and to his terror, saw the Potion Master steadily regarding him.

He gulped and dropped his gaze. Another long silence ensued.

At last Ron knew he had to speak or he’d burst into tears. He also knew what he had to say, though his shame was so thick it nearly clogged his throat. He wished he could just disappear, sink through the floor, vanish forever. Of course, he just might now that Snape had him.

Still, regardless of whatever Snape would do to him – and he suspected that as chilling as his worst imagining were, the reality would be worse – he deserved it. And more. He had acted like a Dark Wizard or a Slytherin, harming an innocent. His family would be horrified when they found out.

Ron forced himself to take a deep breath. Given Snape’s previous comment about his tongue, coupled with the fact that he was not known to make empty threats, Ron needed to say something while he still could. “I – I’m s-sorry, Professor,” he stuttered, staring at the ground.

“Such a heartfelt, sincere apology,” Snape sneered.

Ron flinched. “It is. I mean, I am,” he protested, feeling his eyes fill with tears of shame. “I’m really, really sorry for what I did.”

“Which part?” Snape inquired coldly. “Plotting against me, branding me a sadistic child abuser, sabotaging my lab, injuring me, hexing me in the infirmary, threatening to blow off parts of my body, insulting me in front of the Headmaster, or physically attacking me a few minutes ago?”

Ron had started to cry by the time Snape got to his third offense. Somehow hearing them all enumerated with such clinical accuracy made it seem much worse, much more cold blooded. He wiped his face on his sleeve and struggled to speak. “Everything! All of that. All of it and more. I’m so, so sorry,” he managed to gasp between sobs.

Snape snorted. “You’re only sorry you were caught, Weasley. Don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

Ron shook his head so hard, tears flew across the room and landed on Snape. At least the professor hoped they were tears. The boy was a soggy mess. “No, sir. I’m truly sorry. I’ve never been so ashamed of myself in my life. I can’t believe what I did to you. It was just… horrible.” He began to sob again.

“Stop sniveling and mop yourself up!” Snape snapped. “You’re disgusting.”

“I know,” Ron wept, for once too miserable to take offense at the professor’s insults. “I know. I don’t deserve to be a Gryffindor.” As his own words sank in, he felt his heart break. All too soon, he would no longer be a Gryffindor. He sobbed harder.

“Weasley.” Snape’s cold voice cut through his budding hysteria. “If you are attempting to make yourself so distraught that I slap you, thus giving you evidence to prove me guilty of battering students, you will be disappointed. I have no intention of touching such a pathetic mess. What I will do, however, is to Summon a pail of ice water and douse you with it.”

The icy tones were nearly as effective as the water would have been. Ron managed to regain some semblance of self-control.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shamefaced and staring hard at his shoes. “I wasn’t trying to trap you or anything. I’m not that sneaky – or that smart.”

“Your past actions argue otherwise,” Snape retorted. Ron blinked in confusion. Had that almost been a compliment? No, surely not. “Or are you now willing to admit that you did not act alone?”

Ron’s eyes widened. “I did! I really did!”

Snape just sneered at him. “You expect me to believe that Granger wasn’t behind the adder venom?”

Ron’s blood ran cold. Oh no. He couldn’t get Hermione kicked out too. “Sir, please,’ he said frantically, “I swear she didn’t know anything. She still doesn’t.” At Snape’s expression of patent disbelief, Ron grew even more agitated. “Honest! I did it all myself. I faked a headache to get out of Transfigurations so I could go to the library and do the research myself. You can ask Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. I can even show you which book talked about the venom. Please, please, Professor, you’ve got to believe me! Use Veritaserum if you want.”

“I suppose it is unlikely Miss Granger would have supported such a scheme,” Snape finally allowed, and Ron collapsed back into his seat with relief.

That relief was short lived, though, once Ron realized that while he may have protected Hermione, his own neck was still forfeit. “What – what are you going to do to me?” he asked, sick with dread but already knowing what the answer had to be.

“What do you think?” Snape raised an eyebrow. “Surely even you, Mr Weasley, could deduce this.”

He’d known it would come, but it still hit with stunning force. Ron just barely managed to avoid bursting into tears again. The first Weasley in history to be expelled from Hogwarts. Guess he’d be famous after all.

“Yes, sir. I’ll go and pack my things.” He struggled to his feet and paused, looking straight at the professor for the first time. “I know I don’t deserve it, and you probably won’t believe that I mean it, but I really hope that someday you can accept my apology.”

Snape watched the boy trudge to the door, defeat in every line of his body. Oddly enough, Snape found himself believing the brat’s sincerity. How very Gryffindor of him to feel genuine remorse, not to mention shame at hatching so Slytherin a plot.

He frowned. Hogwarts needed another Weasley like Dumbledore needed a gift certificate to Honeydukes, but there was something oddly right about the Golden Trio. Snape might not be an expert in Arithmancy, but only a fool would ignore the powerful magic inherent in certain numbers. Add to that Ron’s obvious protective streak towards Harry, and Snape wasn’t sure that expelling the redhead was such a good idea.

Deeply satisfying, yes. Smart, probably not. If nothing else, it would upset Harry, and even if he didn’t blame Snape for the expulsion, it would hardly further advance their bonding. On the other hand, if Weasley – who had always objected to Harry spending time with Snape – were suddenly and permanently in his debt… Hmm. This had serious potential.

Snape’s Slytherin instincts were roused. Expulsion would achieve little in his best interest, but if Weasley dropped his opposition to Snape, then Harry’s status as his ward would cease to be a point of contention within the Trio. That would make Harry less reluctant to devote time to his studies with Snape and might well be worth the price of keeping Weasley around. Besides, this way he would have the fun of tormenting the redheaded idiot himself. Or perhaps he’d work on encouraging Weasley’s heretofore unsuspected Slytherin side. Not only would it perturb the elder Weasleys no end, but it might also be a potent weapon in the war. Harry’s idea of strategy was yelling while he leapt, but if a cunning strategist was hidden behind the insipid freckles of a Weasley… Well, Voldemort and the others would never suspect such a thing.

Snape sat up, decided. “Weasley!” His sharp command caught the boy at the door.

“Yes, sir?” he asked dully, clearly resigned to his fate.

“Sit down. I’m not through with you.”

The boy reclaimed his chair, uncertain.  “Are – are you going to hit me?”

“I thought we had already established that I do not strike children for my own pleasure, Mr Weasley.” Snape’s eyes glinted dangerously.

Ron flushed. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I hurt you, so it only seems fair…”

“What a very archaic philosophy you hold, Mr Weasley. Are you proposing I throw you against the wall until you too lose consciousness?”

Ron was now crimson. “I – I just meant that you hit – I mean punish – Harry, and I deserve it a lot more.”

“Mr Weasley,” Snape said in tones of long-suffering boredom, “I have no desire to become the disciplinarian for the delinquents of Gryffindor House. My authority to spank Mr Potter derives in part from the fact that he has no one in a parental role to provide him with appropriate supervision and consequences. When last I checked, you were in possession of two parents, two adult brothers, and an enormous extended family, any of whom are more than capable of providing you with the punishment you so richly deserve.”

To his astonishment, Ron started to cry again.

“Weasely! Cease that caterwauling at once! If you are trying to convince me that you will be mistreated by your parents –“

Weasley actually blinked up at him, his tears interrupted by sheer astonishment. “Huh?”

“This infernal boo-hooing. Are you suggesting that you are in terror of the punishment your family will inflict upon you?”

“What? Oh, no. I mean, yes, they’re going to kill me, but no, they’re not going to kill me.”

“Eloquent as always, Weasley.”

“I just – I mean, it won’t be like Harry and the Durselys, but…” he started to sniffle again.

“Then why are you whimpering so pitifully?” Snape interrupted before the boy could descend into another maudlin display.

“It’s just… They’re going to be so disappointed in me.” Ron’s lip quivered. “When they find out what I did – all the terrible things – they won’t be able to look at me any more. No one’s ever done anything this awful, let alone get expelled.”

“The twins –“

Ron shook his head before Snape could say anything else. “No. I mean, sure they’re bloody nuisances and drive everyone barking mad, but they’re actually really careful not to hurt anyone with their pranks.” Snape considered, but found he had to concede Ron’s point. The twins’ victims were often humiliated, embarrassed, mortified, furious, and/or homicidal, but unlike the Marauders, they would never seek to seriously harm someone. As legendary as their pranks were, nothing came close to luring an unsuspecting student to an encounter with a werewolf. It pained Snape to admit anything to their credit, but the Weasley twins were nothing more than merry pranksters – the bane of their professors’ existence but not violent or dangerous.

Ron saw Snape’s expression and knew his point was made. “See? That’s why my folks are going to be so upset. What I did was Dark.”

Snape quirked an eyebrow. He really would need to work on Weasley or that marvelous Slytherin potential would be squashed beneath a mountain of Gryffindor guilt. “What will your parents do to you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Ron slumped. “I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine anything bad enough. I mean, I’m sure I’ll get walloped and grounded and assigned a million extra chores. And my trip to visit Charlie and the dragons this summer is sure to be canceled. But I mean, they would do all that if I got in enough normal trouble. I don’t know what they’ll do to me for attacking a professor, blowing up a classroom, and getting expelled.” He swallowed hard. “Where do kids go if they’re thrown out of Hogwarts?”

“Most seek education on the Continent,” Snape answered, and saw Weasley’s face fall. Of course. The Weasleys could ill afford to pay international tuition costs and the boy’s academic performance hardly merited a scholarship. At the very least, their youngest son had just created a severe financial hardship for the entire family.

Ron dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t believe I’ve screwed up this bad.”

“Badly, Weasely, and in fact your plan had some elements that were quite inspired.”

Ron began to laugh, though it sounded more like sobs. “Great. Now I know my life is over. A Slytherin Death Eater just complimented me on my cunning. I should go and jump off the Astronomy Tower right now.”

“Kindly refrain from these tedious histrionics,” Snape commanded. “If you are so awash with angst at this age, Merlin help us all when you’re 16. Please do not imagine that no one in the history of the Wizarding World has ever made a mistake as egregious as your own.”

Ron snorted. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mr Weasley, I was only a few years older than you when I chose to take the Dark Mark. That is a tad more serious.”

“But you only hurt yourself when you did that. I hurt you.” Ron’s eyes began to fill again. “I’m no better than You-Know-Who.”

Snape rolled his eyes at Weasley’s exaggeration. “Nonsense. Come back after you’ve murdered a few dozen people, and we’ll revisit the issue.”

Ron stared at him, terrified. “Do you think I will?” he whispered.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” Snape was highly tempted to slap the little idiot after all.

Ron moaned and drooped against the chair. “I don’t know what to do, Professor.”

“I suggest you fire call your parents and inform them of your activities,” Snape said coldly, indicating the nearby fireplace. He might as well get the boy’s parents involved in his punishment right from the start.

Ron gulped. “Don’t you think the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall should be here when I do?”

Snape nearly cursed. Of course. The little brat was right. It was all well and good for Snape to want to ship Weasley back to his parents for some well-earned discipline, but it would be wildly improper not to inform Dumbledore first, and he would of course bring in Weasley’s Head of House. That mean that the brat’s actions would have to come to light, and since Dumbledore would expel Harry’s attackers – Snape would see to that! – he could hardly do less to Snape’s.

Snape frowned horribly. It seemed that if he were truly committed to preventing Weasley’s expulsion, he would have to keep his actions a secret, and that mean he would have to deal with the little monster himself.

Ron quailed before Snape’s expression. Now what? He numbly wondered why Snape didn’t just let him go pack instead of quizzing him about his home life.

“Mr Weasley,” Snape said silkily, and Ron was suddenly afraid. “What would you do for me if I were to agree not to report you?”

For a moment, Ron was sure he’d misheard. Then he was abruptly elated, and then just as suddenly crashed down into blackest depression. There was no way Snape was serious. The greasy git was just toying with him. Give up the golden opportunity to expel a student, let alone a Gryffindor, let alone a Weasley? Never.

“Wh-why would you do that, sir?”

“Are you deaf, boy? Because you’d make it worth my while. So – what do you have to offer?”

Ron stared at him, his thoughts whirling. Snape was actually asking for a bribe? “I – I don’t have any money, sir,” he confessed.

“What a surprise. An impecunious Weasley,” Snape said sarcastically. “Astounding.”

“I – I have a broom. And a rat. And –“

“What will you offer me next, Weasley? Your underwear? As if I would covet your meager possessions.”

Ron scrunched up his face in thought. What did he have to offer an adult? A horrible idea struck him. Surely Snape didn’t mean… Appalled, he risked a glance at the professor.

Snape didn’t need to use his legilimency skills when the look on Ron’s face said it all. “If you so much as think of insulting me with a question about sexual favors, Weasley, I will fire call your parents right now then hurl you from the Astronomy Tower myself!”

“Yes, sir!” Ron gulped and cringed away. Well, that was a relief. But what then was Snape after? What could he possibly offer? His mind raced down unfamiliar pathways trying to find a bargaining chip. “I – I could…” he trailed off. Finally, “Wh- what do you want?”

Snape gave him an evil smile. “I can always use new Potion ingredients,” he said, and Ron involuntarily backed away. “Oh, calm down, Weasley. As if the Headmaster would permit me to harvest a student.”

Ron swallowed, relieved. “What if I could help you with your Potions?” he asked with sudden inspiration. “I mean, I – I could work for you. I could come and do anything you needed. Like permanent detention. Don’t you always have cauldrons to be scrubbed and ingredients to be prepared?”

“Hmmmm.” Snape pretended to think it over. Really, it had taken the idiot long enough. “I suppose it would be attractive to have a work boy around for all the disgusting tasks…” Then he frowned. “But you’d probably just pout and laze about. I need someone who would listen to my directions and be hard-working.”

“I’d pay attention! And I’d work really hard, too. I promise I wouldn’t complain or anything,” Ron swore vehemently.

“I don’t see how it would work,” Snape shook his head dismissively. “If I assign you this much detention, your Head of House will demand to know why.”

“You don’t have to assign it. I’ll just come every night! I promise. I’ll come until you tell me to stop. Or I graduate,” Ron added as an afterthought.

Snape had to fight down a smirk at that, but he managed to sneer instead. “Oh, so you expect me to believe that you’ll just show up for your punishment out of the goodness of your heart? Day after day after day? When there’s nothing to make you?”

“I would, I swear it. Please, give me the chance,” Ron begged. “Please!”

Snape sighed, the very picture of long-suffering. “Oh, all right.”