–Where. Is. Ron?†Hermione asked for the hundredth time to no one in particular. Behind her, Harry exchanged knowing glances with Ginny.
She had been pacing up and down the length of the common room for the past half hour, ranting about Ron’s lack of punctuality and discipline, occasionally glaring at her constantly sniggering friends.
–Only fifteen minutes left until curfew. Where is that idiot?†she seethed.
It took Harry a moment to realize that he was being spoken to this time, but before he could reply, the common room door opened and two giggling third-year girls entered, followed by the subject of Hermione’s anxiety.
–Where have you been?†she demanded in what Harry thought was a very Mrs.Weasley-like fashion.
Ron looked taken aback. He looked around as if he had entered into a room full of strangers. His eyes continued to dart around helplessly, and Harry could almost hear the wheels in his head turning furiously.
–I..umm...I was j-just taking a s-stroll by the lake and... I am... r-really very tired now. So... good night,†he stammered and hurried up the boys’ dormitory, following Dean and Seamus.
–What’s happened to him?†Hermione wondered, slumping onto the couch beside the fireplace. –He looks a bit peaked.â€
–Well, I think he is just cross because he couldn’t go to Hogsmeade with us,†Ginny said, flashing Harry a grin. He felt the tips of his ears go red. He remembered that he had told her about Ron’s plans to finally ask Hermione out. Ron was going to kill him if he ever found that out.
–And also there’s the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin,†she continued. –What do you think, Harry?â€
Harry nodded his consent. He had known Ron to behave very strangely before any Quidditch match. Maybe that would explain Ron's weird mood. Shaking his head a little, he looked up to find a very agitated Hermione scowling at the fireplace and a pre-occupied Ginny barely noticing his presence.
–Ginny is right. It’s going to be a tough game. We had anticipated that, with Malfoy gone, it will be easier to defeat them. But just look at their game: they have improved tenfold!†Harry said sitting down beside Ginny. His arm brushed against hers in the process and he felt a tingle go up his spine.
–It’s just because they are playing dirtier now,†Ginny said gruffly, –Didn’t you see how they defeated Ravenclaw? And they're damn good.â€
Harry never noticed Hermione grimace loudly and leave the room. He stared into the fireplace at the dying embers. Something about Ron’s demeanour still puzzled him.
–He will come around in the morning,†he mused aloud.
Yawning and stretching, he got up from his seat and, bidding Ginny goodnight, climbed up to his own dormitory.
In the morning, Harry woke up with a feeling of dread. It was hour before dawn, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now. He knew he'd had a weird dream, but he couldn’t remember it. The only thing that remained in his memory was the feeling that Voldemort was very happy for some reason. And that thought unnerved him.
He felt compelled to talk about it, so putting on his glasses, he turned towards Ron’s bed, only to find him gone.
Harry was shocked. Never in their six years of friendship had Ron woken up at such an early hour, not even before a Quidditch match.
Pushing this thought at the back of his head, he lay back on his bed and thought about his dream again. He wanted advice badly. Suddenly, Hermione’s wise face swam into his view, but before he could consider her, her obvious reply sounded in his ears,
–Oh, no Harry. You are letting him inside your head again. Go talk to Dumbledore about it. It’s not right.â€
He knew he was in no mood to listen to her reasoning. Sighing, he decided to wait until he next saw Ron. It was now nearly six, so he dragged himself out of bed and began to get ready for the day.
Twenty minutes later saw one Harry Potter ambling into the Great Hall for breakfast, his mind already distracted from Voldemort and other such morbid thoughts as the delicious smell of food wafted towards him.
He was so occupied that he didn’t even notice the unusual silence at the Gryffindor table. If he had done, he would have seen that most of the Gryffindors were staring at one Ronald Weasley, who was reading a Charms textbook propped against his water jug. The boy in question was completely absorbed in the chapter and oblivious of his surroundings.
Soon, Harry noticed that something was amiss. Clearing his mind of the image of a certain red-head offering him treacle tarts and chocolate muffins, he turned his gaze towards the table and almost tripped over the hem of his own robes as he too saw what the others were watching.
Recovering quickly, he sat down beside a wide-eyed Hermione, gaping at their mutual best friend. He nudged her, bringing her back to earth. She started at once, –Harry, did you see that Ron…?â€
–Is reading?†he interrupted, buttering his toast. –Yeah, I know it’s strange." Jokingly, but with a tinge of genuine concern, he said, "Maybe we should immediately take him to the hospital w--â€
Ignoring him, Hermione addressed the object of their puzzlement. –Ron? Are you all right? You are reading a book and… a textbook at that?â€
–So what’s your probem?†he snapped without looking up.
–I was just asking,†Hermione huffed.
Harry could see the beginnings of a row, but he was not in a mood to play mediator between his friends again. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Ginny heading towards the great double doors and, hastily wolfing down his toast, he slung his bag over his shoulders and followed her out of the Great Hall.
As the day progressed, Harry grew more and more frustrated. Ron seemed attentive in every lesson -- especially Charms. But he hadn’t talked to Harry in more than monosyllabic sentences.
Harry was by turns shocked, annoyed, and amused, but the biggest surprise came in Potions. Ron didn’t grumble once about slicing the lacewings into perfectly symmetrical threads. Nor did he mind when old Slughorn asked them to shell off the skin of some nasty-looking beetles.
At the end of the lesson, he had brewed a perfect potion, second only to Hermione’s. (Harry had at last given up the Half-Blood Prince’s book). Slughorn was so impressed with his sudden interest that he granted twenty points to Gryffindor. This made all the suspicions fly around in Harry’s head as he proceeded down the corridor after the lesson, with Ron and Hermione on either side of him. Hermione was going on and on about assignments and fast approaching deadlines. He was in the process of tuning her out when she said something that caught his ears.
–Ron, how did you make this potion today,†she asked, looking at Ron accusingly. –Just last Friday, you were complaining that the Euphoria Draughts were a nuisance if you had to brew them yourselves.â€
Harry looked at Ron and noticed what appeared to be streaks of panic flit across his features.
–Um...†he started, but was cut short by the arrival of his sister. Harry just noticed his shoulders slump in obvious relief before the presence of Ginny took over all his senses.
–Hey Harry, I've been wondering when Quidditch practice is scheduled for?â€
Harry felt like kicking himself. He had totally forgotten about it.
–I haven’t decided yet, but I will let you know, Ginny,†he said, and she retreated, flashing him a dazzling smile that made his stomach somersault madly.
–Whoa! Quidditch practice. I had completely forgotten. I just hope Dean’s in form this time. He really is an excellent Chaser. What do you think?†Harry said, rounding up on Ron.
–Yeah, he’s good,†Ron relied hastily.
–And Ron, please don’t get nervous this time. You are the best Keeper we've ever had. You just need to have faith in your abilities.â€
–Sure. I really am confident this time. Ravenclaw won’t get a single Quaffle through the hoops, Harry,†Ron said grinning,
–Ron, the match is against Slytherin, not Ravenclaw.â€
Ron’s grin faded.
–Are you two done? Can we go to Transfiguration now?†Hermione put in exasperatedly, and all three of them headed to class.
After all the lessons were over, Harry was exhausted. It had been a tiring day. But the thing that cheered him a bit was that Ron was slowly getting back to normal and had even discussed Quidditch tactics with him.
–It was the Quidditch anxiety, after all,†Harry thought as he listened to Ron ramble away about the impending match as they made their way towards their dormitory after dinner.
Halfway to the Gryffindor tower, Ron suddenly stopped him.
–Bloody hell, Harry, I think I have forgotten my Charms textbook in class. I will just go and get it. Don’t wait up for me,†he said.
Harry shrugged and proceeded towards Gryffindor Tower, anxious to get into his comfortable four-poster and retire for the night.
He didn’t even pay much attention to the fact that Ron seemed to be going towards the completely opposite direction of the Charms classroom.
About a hundred miles from Hogwarts, the night was exceptionally quiet. Not even an owl hooted.
Suddenly, the stillness was mercilessly pierced as a boy with shocking red hair and piercing blue eyes let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Harry Potter and the Sinister Plot by weasley-malfoy-aficionado
Chapter Notes: DISCLAIMER: Everything except the plot is JKR's.
Chapter Endnotes: Please leave your reviews.