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Chapter Text

Ron hated crowds. Thankfully, that was something his older brothers, all of his older brothers, knew. Percy had to go up to the front of the train for some prefect thing, so it was Fred and George who helped usher him to a compartment. It wasn’t that crowds were loud, it was the opposite. Ron found the silence in huge groups of people to be unsettling. He could never tell if someone was calling out to him or even if someone said “excuse me” as the squished by. Colliding with people happened more often since he couldn’t hear a person coming. Ever since he lost his hearing completely, Ron stayed away from large crowds. One of his brothers tapped his shoulder as the filed through the corridor and Ron withheld a flinch.

This one has only one person, everywhere else is full. His brother signed.

Would you rather sit with us and Lee? Or with Percy? The other twin signed. Ron shook his head.

I’ll sit here if they don’t mind. Ron signed back. He didn’t want to be dependant on his brothers all the time. One of the twins poked his head in the compartment to ask the kid if Ron could sit, while the other signed at Ron.

We’ll be with Lee all over, so if you need one of us, look for Percy first. He instructed, his usual mischievous grin replaced by a serious look. If someone bugs you, let us know and we’ll deal with it. Don’t let someone push you around just because you’re handicapped.

After two years of deafness, you would think Ron didn’t need to be told that. But, in true Weasley style, Ron had preferred to deal with such situations by himself. It was fine amongst friends of the family and in public settings because Ron rarely did either. He preferred to stay home. The other twin interrupted their conversation with a smile.

He’s okay with it, we’ll see you later, Ron. His hands formed the sign they’d picked for Ron’s name was a flat hand moving towards the signer while the other hand pointed and moving in the other direction. It was the sign for run; when they were first learning BSL, Charlie thought it was the sign for Ron. It was easy to sign, so they kept it.

Ron bid his brothers goodbye before sliding into the compartment. The other passenger was a short boy who barely looked eight, let alone eleven, with messy black hair and large green eyes hidden by shoddy frames. Ron waved at the boy as he sat down across from him, next to the window. He was grateful he learned how to read lips, even if he wasn’t great at it when the boy started talking.

“Hullo.” Ron made out. “I’m Harry.”

Wincing, Ron signed as he spoke. He hated speaking since he couldn’t hear himself and knew he sounded off. “I’m Ron.”

The boy's eyes widened and he quickly started moving his hands instead of his mouth. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were deaf.

It’s fine. I’m surprised my brother didn’t say anything about it. Ron smiled as he signed, relieved that Harry knew BSL. Not a lot of people did.

My neighbor, Mr. M-A-T-H-E-W-S is mostly deaf. Harry explained, his finger movements deft and practiced.

What house do you think you’ll be in? Ron asked, changing the subject. He was unusually chatty; he wasn’t used to people his age knowing BSL.

Harry shrugged. I don’t really care as long as I get sorted. What about you?

Most likely -- he signed the word lion, as there wasn’t a sign for Gryffindor as far he knew -- because my whole family is.

Lion? Harry signed, frowning.

G-R-Y-F-F-I-N-D-O-R, Lion is the mascot for the house. Ron signed. Snake for S-L-Y-T-H-E-R-I-N, Eagle for R-A-V-E-N-C-L-A-W and Badger for H-U-F-F-L-E-P-U-F-F.

Harry nodded in understanding. Well, what house would you like to go in if it wasn’t Gryffindor?

Ron frowned, thinking. He never thought of being sorted anywhere else than Gryffindor. Even Fred and George, more Slytherin than anything though no one will admit it, were sorted in Gryffindor. Well, it did take a lot of bravery to pull pranks like they did with a mom like theirs. Now that Ron thought about it, he wasn’t as brave as the rest of his family, not after he finally lost all of his hearing. It wasn’t fully the disability, it was the way his parents handled it that made him so unsure of himself.

Ron finally answered with a shrug and a slight frown still present on his brow. Worry bit his gut, what if he didn’t belong in any? Sensing Ron’s unease, Harry changed the subject and the two talked about the classes and what ones they’d like most and least. The rest of the train ride went by quickly, with conversations of Quidditch and wizards chess. Fred and George checked in once with Lee, but Percy checked in at least three times.

They got off the train and followed a large man Harry called Hagrid to a group of boats. As it was four to a boat, Harry and Ron were joined by Neville and an unfamiliar boy. Neville greeted Ron nervously; they’d known each other for a long while because of Neville’s grandmother. The other boy ignored them completely and the boat ride was silent with sign being the continued form of communication. At the shore, the first years were handed off to Professor McGonagall and lead into the castle. In a corridor by the Great Hall, she lectured them about Hogwarts. Ron missed the whole thing as she talked too much for him to read her lips. Harry was helpful and signed her lecture afterward when she’d gone to check the Hall. It was all things he’d known but Ron was grateful.

Ron was practically glued to Harry’s side during the whole ordeal. The first years were a big enough group to unsettle Ron and he was anxious for the rest of the school year. He’d be in far bigger groups later on. Harry didn’t seem to mind, walking with him into the Hall unashamed. They both gaped at the sight before them, even Ron who grew up with magic. The ceiling looked like the clear sky outside and a large number of floating candles scattered about lit the room. A tattered wizard’s hat sat on an old-looking stool in front of the head table and facing the four house tables.

The sorting began. Ron didn’t pay much attention to where people were sorted, other than Harry and Neville because he was focused on McGonagall’s lips. He didn’t want to miss his name being called out. Neville was sorted into Gryffindor, not to Ron’s surprise. The boy was surprisingly brave, not that people who barely knew him saw. Harry had been just as nervous as Ron, and surprised everyone by being sorted in Slytherin. Not that Ron heard any of the decisions, he’d seen the both of them walk to their respective tables before snapping his gaze back to McGonagall. Name after name was called, but he couldn’t say for sure what name. He knew for sure what his name was when reading lips, but it still took a moment for him to react. Ron wasn’t used to his name being called as “Weasley, Ronald.”

When he finally sat on the stool, the hat was placed on his red hair. A second later, for the first time in two years, he heard a voice.

“Well, now, another Weasley. Your family is always the largest of every generation I swear. Now, where to put you? Hmm, I can see you doing well in Ravenclaw, you have a good mind for strategy, but you don’t actively seek knowledge for knowledge. You have family history in Gryffindor, but you don’t really share the traits. Now, Hufflepuff I can see clearly. You are a sure hard worker, the amount of work you put in learning Sign Language is a sign of that. Loyalty is a strength of yours, I can see that you’ll stick by your new friend’s side through thick and thin. He’ll need that, Mister Weasley, remember that in Hufflepuff.”

A few seconds after the hat fell silent, it was lifted from his head. Ron assumed that it had shouted his house and started for the yellow and black table in a daze. The first Weasley to not be sorted into Gryffindor since literally ever. No Weasley, in the long history of the family, has been sorted anywhere else. It was a strange feeling to be the first. Ron was greeted at his table with smiles and soundless words before they went quiet for the last student’s sorting. He walked to Slytherin after the hat decided and Dumbledore, in his eyesore of robes, stood and began speaking. Or, at least Ron thought he was speaking. The beard made it hard to see if he was.

Someone bumped into his shoulder by accident, bringing his attention to the table that was now laden with food of multiple kinds. Ron followed the suit of his house and began filling his plate. A tap on his shoulder made him look up to see someone talking to him. Ron felt his ears warm in embarrassment.

“I’m deaf.” Ron signed as he spoke, with an apologetic smile. The first years around him looked a little lost at the declaration, but an older student tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

I’m C-O-L-E Bird, I’m a Hufflepuff P-R-E-F-E-C-T. The student signed, repeating the sign for bird twice after spelling his name and using the sign for leader, which was holding up both pointer fingers and shaking them back and forth twice, after spelling prefect. So, Bird was his sign name and likely his last name as well. If you need any help, just look for me. I’m fluent in BSL.

Thanks. Ron signed back, grinning. I’m Ron (using his sign name).

Welcome to Hufflepuff, Ron.

Chapter Text

After Professor Sprout finished her welcoming speech in the Hufflepuff common room, she motioned for Ron to stay behind. A couple of older students stayed behind as well. She explained that each of the students knew BSL and could help him if he need help with school work or anything else. Only some of the teachers knew BSL since wizards rarely went deaf. There was usually a magical cure, but since it was a wizarding disease that stole his hearing, there was no cure for this. Professors Snape, Dumbledore, Sinistra, and Sprout herself were the only ones. All the classes, she explained, would have a transcript, that would be written as the Professor of the class spoke, on a piece of parchment on his desk. The words on it will only last a few moments after it’s spoken to encourage his own note-taking. There wasn’t much else that she could do to help him, other than showing him an alarm spell that would replace the ones students usually place to wake up in the morning. Instead of making a noise, it would shine a bright light.

Ron was grateful that his Head of House helped him as much as she had. Everything else, he could at least attempt to manage himself. After explaining, she had Cole show him where he’d be sleeping. Cole told him that every house dormed their students differently. Ron was inclined to agree. His brothers had told him how Gryffindors slept in groups of years. Hufflepuff, in an attempt to make things easy for every year, housed one student from each year per dorm. This way, the upper years could help the lower years. Ron was rooming with Cole (a fifth year), Oliver McIntosh (a seventh year), Willie Hartman (a sixth year), Todd Stein(a fourth year),  Eugene Long (a third year), and Brendan Horn (a second year). Ron didn’t get a chance to meet them before Cole ushered him to his bed. After getting ready for bed, Ron was out like a light.

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Ron woke up abruptly when a light shined in his canopy bed. He waved the light away as he remembered being told to and laid there for a moment, try to remember where he was. The black and yellow accents to his bed brought him crashing to reality. He was in his Hufflepuff dorm, was his first thought. His second was, Oh, Merlin, his mum and dad must be disappointed. He brushed the thought away with a lump in his throat and climbed out of his bed. Ron would think about it later, likely when he got a letter from his parents. For now, he had to get ready for the day.

He didn’t really pay notice the night before, but the dorms were really nice. Instead of looking like a bad pre-primary school color page, the decorator made the whole room come together. The wallpaper was a nice cream color and all exposed wood was varnished with black so they had an undertone of brown. The comforters matched the walls with dull yellow silk pillows and sheets. Black curtains hung from each bed. The floor was exposed wood floors rather than stone and conducted less cold then stone would’ve. Rugs were artfully spread out in matching cream and black colors. The beds were separated by both a wardrobe and a desk. There were no windows, but some paintings of badgers and forest animals replaced them. He remembered Cole reassuring him that they were charmed against visiting portrait subjects.

Eugene, like half of the room, was still asleep in his bed, his black and grey cat with tabby markings curled up on his chest. Eugene was the only one in their dorm with a pet that wasn’t an owl. It reminded Ron about Scabbers. He’d been promised the rat years ago, but his dad said that it wasn’t safe for Ron to take care of him. Because of his disability. Ron forced those thoughts out of his head and grabbed his second-hand robes from his yet unpacked trunk.

Everyone was awake when Ron came back from the bathroom. They were all either getting ready or sitting on their bed, waiting. Ron put his nightclothes on his bed and began to put his school bag together. Cole motioned for his attention and started signing as Ron worked.

Good Morning, Ron. He signed. Ron signed back in kind and Cole continued. We go to breakfast with our dorms on weekdays. Weekends, you can go by yourself. Study groups are also done by dorm room, so the upper years can help the younger years. If you want to invite others from other houses, they’re welcome. I’m the only one in the dorm that can sign, but W-I-L-L and O-L-I-V-E-R are willing to learn.

Okay. Ron signed with a smile.

Soon after that, everyone was ready to go. They left in a group to breakfast. Cole signed helpful notes as they walked. The portrait across from their common room (which was of the same color scheme as the dorms) lead to the kitchens. That one staircase had a disappearing step, so be careful. He spoke as he signed as to not leave the rest of the group out. Ron was glad that they went down in groups because he could remember the way by the time they got back to the Great Hall.

Breakfast had an array of different foods. There were mostly healthy options, pushed on them by Sprout, but there were a few plates of cinnamon rolls and the like. Brendan, or Dan as he liked to be called, was a vegetarian, he explained to Ron. Dan was pretty nice and told Ron the whys and difficulties of him being a vegetarian. It was all really cool to Ron, even if they conversed over a spare parchment. Halfway through breakfast, Eugene joined the written conversation. Sprout interrupted with their schedules. Mail came soon after that. Ron paled when he saw Eroll coming his way.

The old owl stumbled when he landed on Ron’s plate and held out his leg. There were multiple letters, so Ron took the one with his name on it and put it in his bag to read later. Eroll left, after stealing some of his hash browns, to the Gryffindor.

‘You’re the first Hufflepuff in your family, aren’t you?’ Ron saw Eugene write. Ron nodded.

‘First none Gryffindor in the history of my family.’ He added. Eugene patted his shoulder sympathetically.

Ron was upset to see that he didn’t share any classes with Slytherins or Gryffindors. He did share a number of them with Ravenclaw. Classes tended to be organized that way, Ron remembered Percy explaining. Slytherins and Gryffindors shared some core classes and same was said for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Electives tended to be a mix of all four, but he couldn’t join an elective until third year. Ron resolved himself to ask Harry and Neville to his study group. Cole tapped his shoulder.

It’s time for your first class. The first years all go as a group with me and another prefect. He signed. Ron nodded, picking up his bag and standing up. As he joined his class, he saw Harry at the Slytherin table. They waved at each other with smiles.

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‘You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.’

Ron copied down the words on the transcript as they appeared. He’d been seated by another Hufflepuff, Ernie if he remembered correctly. The potions classroom was dark, but not enough to make Ron’s head hurt as he read the piece of parchment. As Snape spoke, he walked around the class with sharp eyes. New lines appeared as the time limit for the speech ended, fading those words.

‘What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, Mister Malfoy?’

Ron looked up in surprise. He knew they weren’t seated with Slytherins and he hadn’t seen Malfoy at the Hufflepuff table. Another record breaker then, the first Malfoy and Black sorted into Ravenclaw. Merlin, this year was full of surprises. Malfoy’s answer didn’t appear on the parchment, but Ron wrote down the question anyway. He’d read the book before leaving for school. His parents didn’t let him do much with his disability, so it left a lot of free time for chess and books. Ron learned to like books, or at least tolerate them, quickly.

As he wrote Draught of the Living Death, another question appeared. ‘Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar, Miss Abbot?’

Ron wrote down the stomach of a goat, even as Snape asked another student. Hannah must’ve gotten it wrong. ‘Mister Weasley, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?’

Ron fumbled when he realized who Snape was talking and quickly signed: They are the same thing.

‘Correct, Mister Weasley. Now, read the instructions on the board and start your potion.’

Ron’s potion wasn’t near perfect, but it wasn’t the worst. Retaining information, Ron knew, was different than applying it. The next class was Herbology, which was a breeze with less dangerous hands-on projects. Charms was after lunch, where Ron came across his first problem. They were learning Lumos, a very easy spell. Unfortunately, you had to speak in order to cast the spell. The alarm spell he was taught the night before consisted of solely wand movements. And try as he might, he couldn’t get a handle on this spell.

‘Ah, Mister Weasley, I see what’s wrong. You’re pronouncing it wrong.’ Flitwick’s words appeared on his parchment. Ron flushed red, thankful that the Professor was in front of him, not the class. ‘You have a unique challenge with spoken spells. The chances of you casting a spell will be four times out of ten, I’m afraid.’

‘What do I do then?’ Ron scribbled on a separate parchment.

‘There aren’t many deaf witches and wizards, so we will have to do a bit of research. There will be a lot of trial and error, so I will ask, for your safety, to not practice spells without a professor present.’

McGonagall said the same, though less pleasant when she saw his struggle with turning a matchstick into a needle. Unlike Lumos, this spell actually exploded his matchstick. A pale Ron was sent to the Hospital Wing to get the wooden shards of his matchstick out of his arm. Some of the shards were so thin that you could only see blood from where they’d entered his arm. Ron had stayed in the Hospital WIng to wait for Cole. In the meantime, he finally read his letter.

‘Ronald,

Your father and I are very disappointed that you broke family tradition and sorted in Hufflepuff. At least it isn’t Slytherin, however, we have to ask you to stop associating with Harry Potter. That boy’s sorting was every bit the surprise as yours. Professor McGonagall will give us updates on your schoolwork, so don’t slack off. If we think school is too hard for you, we will take you out and send you to that Special Education school in America.

Love, Your Mother.’

Ron felt sick when Cole picked him up. He didn’t think this development with his spellwork will help matters. And the obvious dismissal of his sorting was hurtful. It seems all that Ron did was a disappointment. His brothers did their best to shield him from it, but he knew his parents weren’t dealing well with his impairment. Dad’s been coming home later and later, smelling strongly of firewhiskey when he did come back. Mum has barely done anything to help Ron, speaking to him more often than using BSL. He didn’t think she was well versed in BSL. On top of that, his parents’ relationship was strained at best. They’ve been arguing more, mostly about the added expense he’s caused and the troubles that branched from that.

Cole sensed Ron’s mood and barely talked on their way to the Hufflepuff common room. As they neared, however, Ron stopped and asked to go to the library. Cole helped him do just that and, after they arrived, helped him find the books he needed as well as suggested books he may find helpful. Ron checked out as many books as he was able before they finally left for the common room. There, the first year went straight to his desk.

Ron was going to find a way to stay at Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

It’s a month into his first year, and Ron has barely been sleeping. Flitwick was correct in saying that there weren’t many wizards or witches who were deaf. Physical disabilities as a whole were rare, with the magical fixes they had. Blindness was the most common, as eyes were dangerous to mess with magic, mental after with no way to magic mental problems away. Ears were actually the easiest part of the body to fix, easier than even limbs. That’s what lead Ron into some side research into why he was deaf. Auris Munus Deficiunt was the name of the disease, AMD for short. He found it in a book Cole suggested called Rare Magical Maladies. He recognized the symptoms from before he lost all hearing. Fever, ringing in his ears, tingling hands, and feet, as well as swallowing difficulty. Surprisingly, under the disease description, they listed famous cases. One of the names was Torcal Weasley. Which explained why Ron got it, it was hereditary and popped up every few centuries. There was a high chance that any of siblings would have gotten it but, by luck, Ron was the only one who did. At least he didn’t have to worry about any of his brother’s kids having it.

AMD and spells going wrong (or curses gone right), were the only reasons a wizard could go deaf and not be able to fix it with magic or potions. As AMB was a disease that affects about one in every billion people and only those with magic, Ron was likely the only one in his generation who was affected. A book on disabilities in Magical Britain stated only one out of a thousand wizards and witches were deaf last decade. Finding a solution to his issue was becoming harder by the minute. Flitwick hasn’t come back to him with a solution yet, so Ron was panicking. He didn’t know when McGonagall would send a report to his parents.

In the meantime, Ron was studying magical theory. Instead of practicing spells (it was deemed too dangerous until they have an idea of a solution after the second time Ron was sent to the Hospital Wing, this time from charms), Ron was writing lengthy essays on the spells they were learning in DADA, Transfiguration, and Charms. The other classes were fine without casting spells. He wasn’t the top of his class, but he was certainly passing.

Ron was sent to the library during Charms so he could study Wingardium Leviosa in length. After Ron handed his note to the librarian, Madame Pince, he made his way to the charms section. He dropped his bag on a table and began to search for books for his essay. Flitwick and his other, spell-based professor started sending him to the library for self-study when they were done with the demonstration. Otherwise, he’d be sitting in class, doing nothing. A tap on his shoulder startled Ron, who was usually left alone during these periods.

Harry began signing as soon as Ron looked up. Hi, Ron. I haven’t seen you in a while.

Sorry, I’ve been busy. Ron apologized, realizing he hadn’t seen Harry since they’ve been sorted. I can’t do spells because I can’t say them right, so I’ve been looking for a solution nonstop.

I noticed. I’ve passed you on your way to your common room with a load of books. Harry signed with a big smile. Would you like any help?

Ron hesitated, remembering his parents warning in the letter about Harry. But, as Harry’s face started to fall, Ron hurried to answer. That would be great, I’m stuck in a dead end at the moment.

They spent the period and lunch looking for books and talking about solutions and how school’s been. It took a bit for Harry’s house to warm up to him, but now Harry was happy. He’s doing fine in classes, though a bit lonely. Neville sits with him whenever he can, but they both get sour looks when they do. Ron was glad that the two were sticking together despite that, and felt sorry for ignoring his two friends. He explained to Harry that his parents might pull him from the school if they found out that he wasn’t doing well. That admission spurred them into looking harder.

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Ron followed the directions he wrote on his parchment studiously. He found it was easier than looking occasionally and he could also check off the steps he’d finished. After he started doing that, his potions approved a bit. Ernie, who now sat with him most of the time, noticed Ron doing this and started doing it. Unfortunately, it didn’t make Ernie’s brewing any better. Ron was halfway through his steps when he was thrown off his feet.

Pain blossomed across his back and where he’d landed on his side as if acid had hit it. Dazed, Ron struggled to sit up. Every part of his body protested his movements, but it helped him to see what had happened. The cauldron at the bench behind his answered that question. The student’s potion had exploded, likely from adding newt eyes early. It looked like Ron was the only one injured, though if the world stopped spinning he’d know that for sure. A dark figure crouched in front of him and a cold hand lifted a bit of the back of his robe. He hadn’t realized it was shredded, exposing his back to the cold dungeon air. Only, it didn’t feel cold. That was probably a bad sign, but the world went black as that thought passed through his mind.

Ron startled awake as lightning hot pain exploded across his pain, worse than the potion accident. He felt a hand apologetically rub his shoulder as whatever caused the pain continued. The pain faded to cool comfort and everything faded away again.

The next time he woke up was to a tall, white ceiling. He took a moment to struggle and remember what had happened. Right, someone’s potion exploded. His back got the brunt of the explosion, though now, his back felt perfectly fine. Ron tilted his head to the side to look around. In the seats next to his bed were three of his brothers. Fred and George were slumped with their heads on the other, but Percy was awake and writing an essay by wandlight. His studious brother saw his movements and called out something over his shoulder. The call woke up his two other brothers.

How are you feeling? Percy signed, his movements messy.

Fine. Ron signed back. How long have I been out?

It’s been two days since the potion accident. One of the twins signed, suddenly awake.

You woke up briefly the other night while they were applying a potion. The other finished. Ron made a face, he lost days he could’ve been researching.

Harry’s been by to drop off parchment stacks every day. Percy signed, a fond look on his face. The twins just looked amused, now that they knew Ron wasn’t in pain. Why didn’t you tell us you’ve been having problems with your spell work?

Ron looked down in embarrassment, shrugging. A second later, fingers directed his chin to look at Percy. Percy let go once he was looking at him and started signing.

You thought we’d tell mum, didn’t you? Percy asked, not looking mad just exasperated. Shame painted Ron’s cheeks and ears. She already told us that she might pull you from Hogwarts.

But we won’t let her. The twin Ron assumed was Fred assured him before he could look away again.

We’ll find a way to cast spells, we’re sure of it. George added, smiling softly. Ron felt tears prick his eyes and his brothers, even Percy who was stingy with hugs, carefully embraced him.

Don’t worry. Percy signed afterward. Ron nodded, rubbing his eyes dry.

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Ron felt like he’d been living in the library by the time Halloween came up. He was there every moment of his free time, stopping only for food, sleep, and classes (Cole started dragging him to meals the fifth time he skipped a meal). History of Magic became a time for either study or sleep, though it seemed every student did that. He felt like he’s even further away from finding the answer, even with his brothers helping. Ron sighed closing yet another book on wordless magic and sliding it to the left. He rubbed his eyes in irritation before reaching for the next. A tap on his shoulder made him jump and he looked up.

You’re looking for a book to help with your spells, right? Draco Malfoy, with his Ravenclaw tie, signed. The movements were unsure and sloppy, exposing his inexperience in the knowledge. Ron nodded, still surprised. Malfoy held a book out for Ron to take and, when Ron just stared at it, put it on the table. He started to turn away but Ron’s hand stopped him.

Thanks . Ron signed with a confused frown. Malfoy nodded, his cheeks pink, and hurried away.

Ron stared after him for a moment, trying to decide if that actually just happened. He shook his head to shake it off and looked at the book. The name simply read ‘Magicians: Book One.’ Ron flipped the open, stopping at the introductory paragraph.

‘Spells done by hand is a technique that started in America in the 17th Century. It’s a very uncommon practice and thus is mostly known only in America. Wizards and Witches prefer to use a wand and words for their spells, it is Magicians who use their hands. The change in classification was made when it became clear that hand spells can be done discreetly in front of muggles if done right. Magicians rarely have wands, but one could be both a Magician and a Wizard.

Magician magic can be learned, though some might find it difficult. Currently, the only school for this magic is Brakebills University on the East Coast of America. Books are accessible if one is a wizard, though caution is urged as Hedge Witches will do anything for one of these books.This book is the first of many in the introductory course of Magician magic. It is urged that you use other books that relate closer to you.’

Ron felt like he was hit with a lightning spell as he scooted closer to the book and flipped it to the first chapter.

‘Chapter One: Introduction to Light’

As his eyes moved across the page, pictures of hand movements similar to sign language but more stunted and jerky appeared. Ron could do magic.

Chapter Text

Ron held his hands as if he was holding a ball with his fingers spread out. His movements as he pulled his hands away from each other were forced and jerky. He was focusing so hard that he almost missed it, but then his hands jerked too far and a burst of light blinded him. Laughing, Ron rubbed the spots out of his eyes. When his sight cleared, he saw Sprout grinning.

It says it gets easier the more you do it. Sprout signed. The magic won’t get confused with you sign language as it focuses on intent as well as the emotion and none of your signs should correspond with a spell.

Flitwick said something, and Sprout translated. Your classwork in Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts will be slightly different than everyone else's. Battle Magic, as it’s called here, is to be taught by someone well versed in the subject, so you won’t learn it until next year. In the meantime, you’ll still be studying theory in all three of the classes so you know the spells, though less intensely than before. Charms and Transfiguration will be the time you study this book and practice a spell or two. You’ll sit in the back of the class so you won’t distract your classmates.

Thank you. Ron signed, still grinning. His professors smiled just as wide.

We’ll talk more about this later. Sprout signed before motioning towards the door.

Ron nodded, picking up his bag and book and racing out of the Charms classroom. It was lunchtime, so he headed for the Great Hall for a quick meal. Sprout had said earlier that she would request textbooks from Brakebills this weekend, so he should get a selection on Monday. She was also going to write to his parents about his new form of magic. Ron didn’t tell her that McGonagall would be doing that already. Lunch was well underway when Ron entered the Hall. He started for his table but detoured to the Ravenclaw table when he remembered what he wanted to do.

Malfoy was reading a book when Ron stopped behind him. Ron got his attention by tapping him on his shoulder and waited for him to turn around before signing, Thank you.

He looked confused until Ron held up the book. Recognition dawned on his face and his cheeks, once again, tinged pink. You’re welcome.

Do you want to join my study group? Ron asked an impulse decision.

What? Malfoy signed, confirming Ron’s original theory that he didn’t know a lot of BSL. Another Ravenclaw got their attention and said something to Malfoy, presumably translating. Malfoy’s cheeks went a darker pink and response and he nodded hesitantly.

I’ll give you the meet times tomorrow. Ron signed, purposefully in view of the other Ravenclaw. That Ravenclaw translated and Malfoy nodded again.

Ron left with a wave to his own table where he joined up with Cole and his dormmates. They looked a little puzzled, but let it go when Ron shrugged them off to eat. That was another person he can’t let his parents know he was hanging with. The Weasley-Malfoy feud has been going on for generations. Ron didn’t even know exactly why they hated each other, something to do with curses and a broken engagement. Honestly, Ron could care less about the feud. His great whatever grandfather wasn’t him and the same could be said about Malfoy. It didn’t affect him so he wasn’t going to let it affect who he talks to.

His meeting with Malfoy was repeated when it was time for Potions. It was the first one since the explosion and as soon as he walked in, Snape directed him to the Ravenclaw side. He was to sit with Malfoy, who would warn him if there was a problem in the classroom. Apparently, the student who’s cauldron exploded had forty points deducted from the house and Ernie lost them another twenty for not warning Ron to get down. Ernie was a little short with him after that.

Ron began his routine of copying down the instruction on parchment before getting his supplies with Malfoy. There wasn’t any talking, using their hands or otherwise, at the start. Once the potion was halfway done, they had to wait thirty minutes before the next action. Ron started writing on a new parchment.

‘Do you know much BSL?’ He asked.

‘Only a little.’ Malfoy wrote after a moment of confusion. In between writing, they started cleaning up the stuff they didn’t need anymore.

‘You totally saved my skin, my parents were thinking about sending me to a Special Education school in America.’ Ron admitted, grinning. He added, ‘They don’t think I can handle Hogwarts.’

‘Are the spells easy?’ Malfoy wrote.

‘It says it’ll get easier, but it’s a little difficult right now. The magic is different than magic with a wand.’ Ron wrote back. His potion started turning a sky blue and he wrote quickly. ‘What did I do wrong? I thought I did the steps right!’

‘Add some snake bone dust, it should fix it. You added the Centar hair too fast, it’s supposed to be done slowly.’ Ron did as Malfoy instructed and sighed in relief as the potioned turned back to a storm cloud gray. He fixed his notes, adding to put the hair in slowly.

Thanks , He signed. Malfoy nodded, cheeks going pink again.

Before class was over, Ron had written his study group schedule. Harry and Neville were already going every now and then. Neville’s seen some improvement in a few of his classes but his Potions class has more to do with nerve than anything. Hopefully, with Harry working with him, Neville will get better.

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The Halloween feast was extravagant. Sweets of all kinds were littered in between serving plates. There were large pumpkins and the enchanted sky was darker than normal. Ron had gotten permission for Harry to sit at his table and the two chatted in sign language the entire time. However, soon after the feast started, Harry watched something enter over Ron’s shoulder. He started to sign frantically.

Q-U-I-R-R-E-L-L just came in --- T-R-O-L-L in the dungeons. Harry’s fingers were quick and Ron could barely understand him. Troll stuck out though and he looked around to see students panicking. Everyone calmed suddenly and Harry started signing again, those his face paled as he did. We’re to go to our common rooms. The Slytherin Common Room is in the dungeons.

The Hufflepuff Common Room is just above the dungeons, we have to talk to a Professor. Ron signed back, understanding Harry’s worry.

Cole stopped them as they got up to look for a teacher, signing and talking at the same time. Professor Sprout told us to go to the library, I assume the same is for Slytherin. Let’s go.

Harry and Ron, along with the rest of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, followed Cole and the other prefects to the library. Ron felt his worry ebb away the further they got from the dungeons. His sleeve was held on to by Harry so they wouldn’t get separated. Madame Pince was waiting for them, ushering them into the library while glancing around with her wand in her hand. Ron pulled Harry over to a table next to the windows and started signing.

How did a troll get in? And why would Dumbledore tell us to go to our common rooms? Ron signed, confused. Harry shrugged.

I have no idea.

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They were sent to their Common Rooms an hour later by Sprout and Snape. Sprout looked deeply unsettled, worry Ron. The Hufflepuffs had a marginally smaller feast in the common rooms before they went to bed. The Great Hall, the next morning was unsettlingly calm. Cole translated Dumbledore’s morning speech with shaking hands. A girl had been severely injured by the troll in the first-floor girls bathroom. She died last night in the infirmary. According to Hannah, who was sitting across from Ron and Cole, the girl was there because she skipped the feast to cry.