Disclaimer: I own nothing - not the characters, not the references to the books, not the plot - nothing. Now, enjoy!

The Gauntlet Maze

Ron sat down gloomily at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. He had double Potions first thing, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Hermione had worked through his last nerve when they'd walked down to the Great Hall a minute ago, reminding him of the fact that he hadn't done finished his Herbology homework (and the fact that she had finished hers didn't help either).

Just as he was prodding his bacon and eggs rather viciously, two owls swooped down to him with letters tied to their legs. The first he recognised as Errol; the second he had never seen before. Ron opened the one from Errol first, which did nothing to brighten his mood, for as soon as he removed the parchment from Errol's leg, he fell flat into Ron's eggs. The contents of the letter were no improvement. Ron skimmed his mother's scrawl quickly, scowling slightly as he read about how Charlie had been promoted to helping out with the flying and training of some rare breeds of dragon. He couldn't even crack a smile when he saw that Fred and George's latest product, which Ron felt certain he had unintentionally tested last summer when he had spontaneously burst into a (very out of key) song at the dinner table, had become their latest best-seller. He knew he ought to be happy for his brothers, but he couldn't help but feel the familiar taste of envy creeping into his mouth as he thought of how Charlie was handling flame-fighting dragons, the twins were making giant galleons and how he hadn't even finished his homework.

Ron ripped open the second letter without much enthusiasm, until he saw what it held. It was a neat script, with his name on the front of the crisp parchment, but no 'Dear' or 'To Whom It May Concern' inside, only a poem which Ron read with interest.

"Irresistible lure,
Custom-built prize,
Awaits the doer
Who makes it in time.

Just for you,
Was this treasure made,
Collect the clues,
And survive the maze.

If you can name it,
This thing with danger bought,
Then you can claim it,
But don’t get caught.

Outside the doors
At ten tonight
With skills yours
Your glory will shine bright."


And with that cryptic statement, the parchment burned itself. The confusion and strain of Ron trying to remember everything that the letter had said and figure it out, must have shown on his face, as Harry asked him if everything was alright and had he made up with Hermione yet? Ron wasn't sure what he'd said to him, or even if he did reply, as he walked off in a daze.

This maze thing could be just what he wanted, just what he needed. "Your glory will shine bright." It sounded enticing. But what about all the things Harry had to endure with the maze in the Tournament? Ron felt slightly unsettled that remembering all that didn't put him off wanting to take part in this maze but pushed that thought to the back of his mind as words such as, "danger" "treasure" and "glory" pushed their way to the front.
All throughout the day, Ron debated and deliberated, but ultimately, even though he didn't know what happened if you mixed liverworts and unicorn hair, he did know that he would be standing outside the doors at ten that evening.

When ten o'clock came, Ron walked out the doors as instructed and approached the large hedges. He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed, but just as determined. Ron tottered on his toes to try and see over the top part of the hedge, but even at the rate he grew, Ron wasn't nearly tall enough. The hedges were vast and a deep shade of green, with twigs poking out from all angles. At last Ron saw an opening at the far side of the hedge he had been facing. As he ran over to it, he couldn't help but wonder what awaited him inside...

The Garden

As Ron made his way cautiously through the opening of the Maze, he felt a curious sensation of nerves mixed with excitement, complete with a bout of trepidation thrown in, all bubbling up inside of him.

He pushed his way through some thickset branches before he came to a larger opening, where several paths lay around him. Directly in front of him were some darker hedges, looming intimidating over the path he would have to take if he chose that route. To his right were a mixture of different shades of bushes, which made him have to blink several times to decipher one from the other. The third path lay to his left, which seemed to be a sort of garden area.

Curiosity got the best of him, as he ventured forth towards it. Privet and Yew trees lined the periphery of the garden area forming a strong solid hedge. But it did not feel as caged, oppressive and close as the rest of the Maze.

The grass around the small brick path was of varying shapes and hues, and the odd Geranium and Daisy could be seen as well. Inside this garden also lay a variety of different routes. A small path branched off to the left where the clearly discernible orange of pumpkins could be seen.

The main path seemed to lead to a dead end as well. There was, however, a large stone bench at that end. As he made his way along the path, he was suddenly struck with a bout of violent sneezing. The small, seemingly harmless plants swayed innocently in the wind, but he knew a sneezewort when he saw one.

Passing the ginger and valerian roots rather quickly, Ron finally came to a stop before the stone bench. Many jars and containers of dried roots and plants lined the far end of the table and a small sack was sitting close to the Mimbulus Mimbletonia to the left, but in the middle sat a small Dragon-Leather notebook. Opening it cautiously to the first page, he read:

"In my midst you’re sure to find
Plants and Herbs of every kind

Search me well and you will see
Fluxweed, Hellebore, Gillyweed

Beware the Mandrake’s cry if you
Should ever dig for Gurdyroot

Before you leave me you must bring
Lovage, dittany and Shrivelfig

And in my pages you must write
The other names of aconite

With that the door will open wide
And you may take of what I hide

So stop to ponder if you will
The Malowsweet won’t make you ill."

Ron grimaced as he re-read the poem. Lovage, he seemed to remember it being mainly used in Confusing Droughts, as he’d whispered that you didn’t need a plant for that, girls would do the trick!

Shrivelfig he had used in his second year; it had been incredibly boring having to prune them for his shrinking solution. Dittany was the only one Ron didn’t know too much about, even though it had been in his ‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’ Herbology book; he had only gotten to number twenty eight and had simply asked Hermione whenever he needed to know something about any of the others.

Ron walked quickly around the garden, looking for anything that resembled any of the three plants he was looking for. He found the Shrivelfig without much trouble, and the Lovage he also saw fairly quickly. It was Dittany that provided the most problems, as he searched desperately around the garden for it, constantly reminded of the dwindling time. After several misguided attempts, which involved lots of scratches and cuts on his fingers and ankles thanks to having his hand-me-down robes which always seemed too short (another incentive to win this thing, Ron thought with a grimace after he tripped over another nettle), he finally found the Dittany and placed it into the notebook.

Now all that was left was the ‘other names of aconite‘. Ron racked his brain to try and think of where he’d heard that before; he knew it was familiar. As he looked around what remained of the garden after his extremely vigorous digging, he came across what he was pretty sure was the aconite - a small plant with flowers that were almost (if you looked at it lopsidedly and squinted) in the shape of a monks cowl, reminding Ron of it’s other name, ’monkshood’, which he wrote quickly into the notebook before picking the plant up to get a better look and hopefully remind himself of it’s other name.

But it seemed he picked it up a little too violently, as the plant spilt and it’s juices dropped onto his hand and into one of his wounds, causing Ron to let out a mangled howl of pain. Ironically, that reminded Ron of the aconite’s other name - ’wolfsbane’. That was the potion Professor Lupin had to take whenever it was a full moon. As Ron wrote it down in the notebook, the stinging pain still coming from his cut reminded him of another fact about the aconite, when they’d thought that Snape might have been poisoning Lupin as the aconite was poisonous if not mixed the right way. “If swallowed or absorbed directly through any break in the skin, the oil could be deadly,” Ron recalled as a new path appeared before his eyes, and the stinging from his cut kept on burning...

The Troll

Rounding the turn in the maze, his finger still throbbing, Ron found himself facing a large and particularly stupid-looking (but quite angry) troll. He was shackled with a medium-length chain, but blocked the path entirely with plenty of room to swing his club. Oh ****! Ron cursed in his mind, as the reality of the giant troll standing in front of him sunk in faster than that of the reality of a small boy standing in front of him did to the troll. What the hell can I do to combat a troll? The sudden sight of the troll seemed to numb slightly the shooting pain running up and down his finger from the aconite oil infecting the cut. Wingardium Levoisa can’t work every time, there must be some general rule as to what to do when you’re faced with a big, gruesome, terrifying troll - like ‘i‘ before ‘e‘ except after ‘c‘! But that isn’t always right anyway... Stop getting sidetracked! Ron berated himself quickly as the troll finally seemed to be enlightened to his appearance and was slowly stomping closer to him. Troll, troll, what do you do when you come across a troll? Well, it might as well be - run!

Ron’s feet, however, stayed firmly rooted to the ground. Come on, you're a Gryffindor! Ron reminded himself, quite hurriedly as the troll was coming closer every moment, swinging his club in what Ron could only presume to be a practice shot. As he tramped ever nearer to Ron, his club cut off the tops of the surrounding hedges, the twigs and leaves all fluttered menacingly to the ground. This did not give Ron much confidence. You can’t run away! You have to do something! Anything!

“Uh - trollificus depart - er - us!” Ron shouted out loud, waving his wand in a vague twirling motion towards the troll. Unsurprisingly, this did absolutely nothing. Worth a try, he thought dismally, getting somewhat desperate now.

“Oppugno!” he yelled frantically, and a hoard of broken twigs, branches and leaves all flew at the troll. The troll couldn’t feel the odd twig or two through it’s thick skin, the troll in their first year hadn't even felt the heavy metal pipe, but, when several hundred broken pieces of hedge all flew at him at once, it was pretty hard to ignore as they poked him and obscured his vision whilst Ron ran past.

As Ron was running past the side of the troll, it let out an almighty sneeze, one of it’s rather large bogies landed on Ron’s shoulder, which he absentmindedly brushed away with his hand - he was rather more worried about getting as much distance in between him and the troll as possible. He grimaced as the snot leaked into his cut, but to his surprise it seemed to numb the pain for real, rather than the temporary shock that had blocked it from his mind when he had first seen the troll. It probably isn’t the proper antidote, Ron figured. But at least it’s blocking the poison for a bit. Who would have thought that a troll could get hay fever?! Ron grinned as he walked further away from it, remembering the last time he had been faced with troll bogies, when he and Harry had made friends with Hermione. Merlin, that troll isn’t going to be happy to see the next person that goes down there! You know, it’s times like this that I wouldn’t mind having Krum back for a bit!

The Riddle

Ron carried on along his way, choosing paths at random, winding his way throughout the maze until he came across a large bird. Ron edged forward slowly, his wand out and at the ready. The bird had a large white body, though its wings were mainly black, speckled with grey and brown. The most noticeable feature of the bird was it's large, orange beak. Ron was pretty sure that it's mouth could easily fit an umbrella, or even an entire stake inside it. He didn't like to consider whether he would be able to fit inside the bird's beak or not.

As he neared it, the bird opened its mouth wide and Ron shied away, fearing that he was about to find out the answer to the question he really didn't want to know. But all that happened was a small notepad fell out of it, and the bird backed up several steps, its wings outstretched threateningly.

Ron darted forward to pick up the notebook, scared that the bird might change its mind and eat it (and him) back up. He opened it, half afraid of what he might find, but it was only another riddle.

Starts at the centre of labyrinth,
Ends at the third of Corinth.
The invisible ink's bane,
Secret messages I gain.

After reading it through, Ron half wished that it wasn't another riddle - he half wondered whether he could take on the pelican.

"Well, this maze is a sort of labyrinth... How about you let me past so I can get to the centre, and then I'll tell you what's there?" After carefully scrutinising the pelican's expression, which mainly consisted of it's bared teeth, Ron decided that maybe he couldn't it take on after all. "Right, I've got to think... What would Hermione do?" Ron paced back and forth, albeit some distance away from the pelican. "Ok, well, since you don't seem keen on me doing some research on the centre of a labyrinth, I'll move on to the next part. The third of Corinth... The third of Corinth..." Ron shrugged as he realised repeating it didn't help in the slightest. "Probably some Muggle contraption. Ok, onto the next part! 'The invisible ink's bane,' well, that's probably something like um... 'Secret messages I gain.' Hmm..."

This is where being brothers with Fred and George finally pays off! Ron decided with glee, pausing his pacing to throw his hand up in elation, until he realised how strange it must look, just standing there with one arm outstretched and a giant grin on his face. "Lemon juice reveals invisible ink, but what's that got to do with the centre of a labyrinth? Ok, think like Hermione, think like Hermione..."

Ron scowled. If he knew how Hermione thought, they probably wouldn't fight so much, and he'd get better grades. When has Hermione ever had to reveal a secret message? Ron wondered, resuming his pacing. I don't think we've ever had to do that in Charms... Nor in the Triwizard Tournament or the DA... Ron thought back desperately through his years at Hogwarts, until he came to a year he'd really rather forget. Tom Riddle's diary! Hermione hated it, she was always trying to figure out what he wrote! But what did she do? Ron pushed aside the other painful memories of his second year, the news that his sister had been taken to the Chamber of Secrets, Hermione lying there Petrified... She did some sort of a spell... Revelio? No, that's not even a real spell! She rubbed it out with a rubber... What was the spell? He tried to remember Hermione's voice - he remembered mocking her with a slight pang; "That's a brilliant theory, Hermione, with just one tiny little flaw. There's nothing written in his diary." But remembering that didn't help at all. What did she say next? Something about it being invisible ink... Apara-something? Ron suddenly wished he'd paid more attention in Charms, or to Hermione.

"Apar... Apare... Apare... Aparecium!" he cried out victoriously. "That's it!" He hurriedly wrote the spell down in the book - but nothing happened. The pelican didn't move out of the way, eat the book or try to eat him, which Ron decided could only be a good sign. "Am I close?" he asked the pelican, without much hope. For a second, he thought he saw a slight bob of the pelican's head, but he couldn't be sure.

Maybe it was the rubber then, he thought, thinking back once more to his second year. Although I don't think 'rubber' is going to cut it... What was it called? Suddenly, he could remember Hermione's excited voice, explaining, despite his teasing. 's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley."

"Revealer!" he yelled out, rushing to the book once more. This time when he finished writing, the pelican advanced, scaring Ron slightly. However, he stood still, the book held outstretched, as if it could protect him. It seemed to work, as the pelican plucked the book from out of Ron's hands and kept it in its large beak before moving aside to let Ron through. "Yes!" he cried out gleefully once more, running past the pelican with a grin, racing off to find his next potential disaster.

The Cliff

Ron felt light hearted again - he was sure he could complete this maze and gain all the things he wanted, nay, deserved. As he went on running down the same and only path, he slowed down a little, slightly unsettled by the lack of obstacles or forks in the path. The pelican was still in sight, and hadn't flown away yet, perhaps as a warning for Ron not to turn back. So he ran on - until he could no longer do so, as there was nowhere else to run. The path just ended, the edge crumbling off in front of Ron's feet.

He bent down, studying it carefully, wondering if maybe it was some kind of illusion. He felt around for solid ground, but came to the conclusion that the gap was real enough. As he stood up, he saw another path running slightly below and ahead of the gap. Ron looked closer, and was tempted to take another step back as the gap looked wider than ever - far too far to jump. But there must be a way across.

Okay, I've thought like Hermione, time to think like Harry. What would Harry do? Ron pondered, looking around for anything that might be able to aid him in getting across. But the only things that looked even remotely movable were a few stones. Well, better than nothing, Ron thought optimistically, and promptly picked one up and dropped it over the edge of the cliff.

This did absolutely nothing to help. In fact, it only succeeded in disheartening Ron, as he could not hear it make a noise on reaching the bottom of the gap, leading him to wonder if there was a bottom to the gap. "Right, definitely not jumping then," he decided out loud.

What would Harry do? he wondered again. Well, Harry would probably summon a broom and fly over. Ron was seriously considering doing this, until he remembered two things, the first that the twins had "borrowed" his broom for "research" over the holidays, and he had yet to try it out again - if it was even left all in one piece. The second was that it simply couldn't be that simple. Either way, he wasn't going to chance it.

Well, Hermione hasn't led me wrong yet, what would she do? Definitely not fly! Ron laughed out loud, remembering Hermione's few attempts on the broom and how they very rarely finished with Hermione still on the broom. Or maybe I should stop thinking about what other people would do, and think about what I would do?

Ron walked backwards a few more paces, realising how close to the edge he had gotten whilst thinking and peering at the distance between the edge and the other path. He might not be afraid of heights, but he was afraid of falling down never-ending holes.

Ron didn't seem to be able to stand still whilst he thought, if he wasn't pacing, then he was nearing the edge of an alarmingly high cliff. Right then he didn't seem to be able to stop backing away from it as he thought and, as a result, fell over the pelican that still hadn't moved.

Ron let out a yelp as he saw the pelican's large beak loom over him, its eyes popping out from over its beak, blinking down at him. Slowly, the pelican opened it's beak, the effect of which did nothing to subdue Ron's yelps, and revealed that the notebook was still inside it, intact.

"What're you showing me that for? I really don't think a book is going to help me fly over a huge hole in the ground..." Ron broke off as the pelican flapped its wings at him, spitting out the notebook. "Fly..." he echoed slowly, mesmerised by the fact that the pelican was, in fact, a bird. He bit back the impulse to mention the fact that he had noticed that the pelican was a bird, remembering Hermione's reaction the day he had noted that she was, in fact, a girl. Plus, the pelican did bare a slight resemblance to Hermione when she had that look in her eyes - the look that said 'I know something that you don't!'

"Oh no! You've got to be kidding!" Ron uttered in disbelief, as the significance of the bird's open beak and flapping wings clicked in his mind. However, it seemed that the pelican was not kidding, as its mouth remained open and its wings outstretched. "Okay, so you can hold a notebook in your beak without devouring it - but I am not a notebook!"

Just then, the pelican bore a very similar resemblance to another of Hermione's looks - this time the, 'I can't believe you're doubting me - be careful or I could get really angry!' look.

"Fine! Fine!" Ron held his palms up in the air. "I suppose I'd die if I tried to jump, so why not get consumed - sorry, carried - by a bird over it instead?" Ron studied the bird's open beak carefully, as he gingerly sat inside it, his legs hanging out over the edge. He had to admit, despite years of flying around on a broomstick and being pulled through the air by another bird - Fawkes, back in the Chamber of Secrets - this was quite different. Quite scary, too. Ron couldn't help but look down, although he really wished that he hadn't, as though he was perfectly comfortable flying, he wasn't so comfortable flying over a bottomless pit.

Ron resisted the impulse to squeeze his eyes tightly shut as the pelican continued to fly, bobbing up and down at points, though Ron was sure that was just to scare him, through sheer morbid fascination. If he was going to die, he'd at least like to see it coming! That thought made Ron snigger as he remembered all the times he had "foreseen" his death in Divination - and before he knew it, the pelican had landed on the other side, and he had fallen out of its beak with a bump.

Ron stumbled around a bit, a tad dizzy, as he got ready to resume his quest. He watched as the pelican flew off again, this time he suspected it was for good, before continuing along the path, wondering what it would hold next...

The Fwooper

"Not another bloody bird," Ron muttered, groaning as he saw a brightly-coloured bird perched on a large stone carving up ahead. At least this one's smaller, he reflected. He walked towards it cautiously, taking care not to let it out of his sight. Ron decided that he had seen far too much of birds recently - he still bore the scars on his arms from the canaries Hermione had set on him, and he was constantly wiping off drool from his previous pelican excursion. As Ron edged closer, the bird didn't move, nor did it make any sounds or even appear to acknowledge him. Keeping the bird in the corner of his eye nevertheless, he read the scratchings carved onto the stone.

"The way ahead is sealed, and the door will only open to the Fwooper's song. Remove her silencing charm at your own risk."

Ron looked at the Fwooper bird whilst edging away slowly. Silencing charm? Why would there be a silencing charm on a bird? Fawkes' song is meant to give strength or something, isn't it? Besides, I thought the Fwooper bird was one of Luna's creations! But this Fwooper looked real enough.

It seemed pretty obvious to Ron that although letting the bird sing would let him through the door, it couldn't just be as simple as that. If only he knew what the catch was...

Ron gave the Fwooper further inspection. It doesn't look too lethal... Certainly not lethal enough for Scrimgeour to use to drive Fudge insane when he tried to make his come-back! Ron thought with a grin, as he remembered Luna excitedly informing them of backhand battle coming on between the ex-minister and the present one. But, if the bird's real, what if the rest of the story is real too? What if it's song drives me crazy? Can I really risk it?

Ron eyed the bird up and down once more. Its bright colours made it seem far from menacing and it didn't have a gleam of any sort in its eye. But just looking in its eyes suddenly brought his father's voice echoing in his ear, from the Quidditch World Cup; "And that boys, is why you should never go for looks alone!"

Ron made his decision. He would have to make it so that he couldn't hear the bird's song - better safe than sorry. Although, somehow, he had a feeling that just putting his fingers in his ears and humming loudly ("I'm not listening!") - like he had done when Fred had threatened to charm his pillow to turn into a spider at midnight if he didn't finish his chores for him - would work. No, he needed a spell. This time, however, he knew which one.

"Muffliato!" he called out, aiming his wand at himself. All of a sudden, his ears were filled with a buzzing, and Ron waved his arms around his head for a few seconds before he realised it was just the spell taking place instead of a giant bumblebee out to get him. Then, he quickly removed the silencing spell before he could have time to regret it and ran forward as he saw the door open. The buzzing sound filled most of his ears, but maybe it wasn't strong enough, as he felt strangely giddy as he practically fell through the open door. Or maybe his finger throbbing once more meant something else...

The End

As Ron stumbled to the other side of the door, he somehow found the piece of mind to pull it shut behind him, blocking the sound of the song from reaching his already buzzing ears before he fell to the ground.

No! Ron thought desperately, willing himself to get up. I can't stop now - look how far I've got! So there's an unbearable ringing in my ears - at least the buzzing has gone! Besides - everyone starts to see multicoloured dots dance around in front of their eyes after they've been through what I just have - it's nothing to worry about! Just get up!

Shaking his head a little, Ron pushed himself up, only to fall hazily against the hedge, the branches of which pricked into him uncomfortably. Well, at least I'm up! Ron thought, a grimace of pain evident on his face. Look on the bright side - with all these branches digging in, that shooting pain in my finger doesn't seem nearly so bad!

"I am not going crazy!" Ron stated out loud. For some reason, he did not find that statement very reassuring. "Ouch - my finger really hurts... In fact, it's not just my finger, it's my whole hand... Must be the poison - **** - the poison!" Ron yelled, he had forgotten about the poison that had leaked in from the monkshood plant.

I suppose that the troll bogies weren't permanent then... Ron realised despondently as he examined his hand closely. You know, I don't think it's supposed to turn that murky green colour - I wonder if that's the troll bogies or the poison?

As the pain grew steadily worse, Ron decided just to ignore it, to get as close to the prize as he could - which turned out to be three more paces before the multicoloured dots took over again, causing him to lurch backwards and fall onto the grass. He blinked rapidly, only seeing swirling balls of colour twirling around him.

"Bloody Snape, I knew he'd be the death of me!" Ron slurred, trying to look around without getting motion sickness. "If it wasn't his homeworks, his glares or his detentions, then it was his spells. Oh, Hermione!" Ron raised his eyebrows, wondering if that would clear his vision up, or if she'd always had a Pygmy Puff for hair. "What's your head doing floating above me? Thanks, by the way, you were a great help throughout this maze. It's a shame I won't get to see you again if this poison kills me. I'll really miss you, you know? Oh, Harry! Your head's floating around too! Why's your hair pink? I gotta say, mate, it looks better on Tonks. To be honest, you weren't really a great help in this maze, I couldn't do any of your ideas. But in the end I found out that I ought to do my own anyway. Ahh! It's Professor Trelawny! What's she doing here? Come to predict my death? It's a bit too late now! She looks even weirder than usual... But maybe that's the craziness slipping through... I mean, she never used to have two heads, did she? Argh! She's morphed into Dobby! Hermione, save me! Spout off some elf rights!"

---

"Ron! You made it!"

"Wha - " Ron blinked several times, but still couldn't get the floating images in front of him straight. "I made it? I - I won the maze?!" To his surprise, Ron felt a soft blow to his arm.

"Hermione!" a different voice said, seeming half amused. "You can't hit him - he's already in the Hospital Wing!"

"Honestly - the first thing he says is wanting to know if he won! I don't know - you nearly die and all you care about is winning?" Hermione too sounded half amused, half hysterical. "I meant you made it out alive!"

"Wait - what? What are you doing here? What am I doing here?!" Ron asked, his head starting to clear slightly as he looked around, now able to take in his surroundings without them spinning around.

"Well, when we realised you were missing, we asked around and nobody knew where you were. Then we saw a big maze had suddenly appeared in the grounds, so we figured it probably wasn't a coincidence! So, we went in, and followed you," Harry explained, helping himself to one of the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron's bed.

"Really? I didn't see you... Wait - didn't the bird's song drive you mad?"

"No - we went the wrong way!" Hermione looked at Harry accusingly.

"Someone thought it would be stupid to follow the footsteps, as - "

"Yeah, but if we did we might have been driven insane by that bird, like Ron!" Harry interrupted to point out with a grin.

"Oi! How come I'm here then?" Ron asked, eager to get to the point of the story.

"Well, you weren't driven insane by the bird," Hermione paused to give Harry a look, as he muttered that it was a matter of opinion, before carrying on. "Luckily we found you by going the other way,"

"And by that Pogrebin chasing us!" Harry interrupted again, before ducking as Hermione threw a Chocolate Frog at him.

"Anyway, we found you lying on the grass, saying something about floating heads and elf rights? So we took you up to Madam Pomfrey as you blacked out after you were done spouting nonsense and your arm had turned this peculiar septic green colour. And she said - she said that you were being s - slowly poisoned, and that - "

"And that," Harry stepped in as Hermione started to sniffle slightly. "Well, that you might not make it, as she thought it was monskhood, which could be, well, deadly... But you did make it!" Harry quickly added as he saw Ron turn a rather pale white at his words and at Hermione's face.

"But how could you be so stupid!" Ron was somewhat flabbergasted at the speed of which Hermione's mood could change - he decided not to mention to her the resemblance to the pelican. "Going into a death trap like that - without giving us any warning or anything!"

"It was at Hogwarts, I hardly think I'm going to die at Hogwarts!" Ron protested weakly.

"You nearly did!"

"Actually, mate, look at the number of times we've already nearly died at Hogwarts - Fluffy and all the tasks to get to the Philosopher's Stone in first year, the Chamber of Secrets in second year, Aragog..." Harry pointed out as Ron gave a distinct shiver. "Hmm, we didn't almost die that much in third year..." Harry thought hard.

"What about all the times our death was predicted in Divination? Doesn't that count?" Ron asked with a grin.

"No it most certainly does not!" Hermione interrupted. "Back to the original point - what were you thinking - "

"All the tasks in the maze in forth year," Harry added.

"Oh, yeah!" Ron propped himself up on his elbows. "Having to find dates for the Yule Ball - that was a close one! I reckon another rejection and we might not have made it!" he informed them dramatically.

"What about in fifth year, with the centaurs and the Inquisitorial Squad!" Hermione added enthusiastically, deciding that if she couldn't beat them, she may as well join them! "And all your Quidditch matches!"

"Oh, you can't forget the time Dobby tried to save your life, Harry! How many times did he nearly kill you then?"

"What about when you got poisoned in sixth year, Ron? And you go and do it again! Do you know how petrified I was?"

"Oh yeah - Merlin, that was so scary when you got Petrified in second year, I think I might have turned whiter than you were, Hermione, when I saw you lying there."

"No! I didn't mean that! But that wasn't anywhere near as bad as the time when..."