Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

This is a challenge fic for Lady Phoenix Fire Rose, called "The Kidnapped Challenge!" Obviously, a character gets kidnapped. I kind of have a plan in mind for where it will go, and at the same time I don't. So here goes.

Takes place in 5th year and ignores much of the 5th plot.

Chapter 1: Tested

All I could think was, "That boy!" "That hopelessly, lazy boy!" as I graded his paper on the seven uses of the violet Morfussious flower. It was a simple enough assignment. Seven rolls of parchment and a clear explanation of the history and the uses. Clearly, the boy had not done his homework. I looked up at him above my spectacles. The students were currently tasked with completing a test on the material they were suppose to have read the previous day. I could hear the sounds of quills scribbling quickly across their parchments. That is, I could hear everyone's, except for Mr. Weasley's.

His face was draw with clear unhappiness. His long hair couldn't hide that from me. And he was staring down at his paper, and not making the obvious move to write. I sighed and set aside his humdrum essay and left my desk. A few of the students looked up, but quickly returned to their papers.

When I approached his desk, he didn't look up.

"Something troubling you Mr. Weasley?"

"No professor." He didn't look up, and he sounded exactly how he looked.

"Then I suppose something is troubling your hand?"

That got the boy's attention and he looked up at me with a quirked eyebrow.

"No," he muttered.

I reached down and turned his test towards myself. Not a possible answer was written.

"Then perhaps you would see it in your best interest to begin your test, which started an hour ago."

A few of the listening students laughed, mainly the ones from Slytherin House. I should have corrected them, but I was dead set on getting Mr. Weasley to realize he was wasting time. For a moment, his face flushed red and he glanced over at the nearest snickering students.

"Mr. Weasley."

"Yes, professor."

I turned the test back towards him then made my way back to my desk. I had felt satisfied about it, until I had the feeling that he had turned his attention on me. When I was seated, I looked back at him and found he had been watching me. If I wasn't mistaken, he was giving me the death glare. I turned my sharp eyes right on him, silently instructing him to begin his test. He looked down and began to write. It was a small sign that showed the boy might make progress. So far, according to his paper, he would be getting a T in my class by the end of the year.

When the period ended, I stood.

"I hope you've all done well on your tests. If you've read the chapter, there is no reason why you shouldn't. Now, I want each and every one of you to begin the reading on chapter two, which deals with the transfiguration of animals, into people. Or rather, the blotched attempt of past wizards'. Please leave your test on my desk as you leave."

I barely took notice as the students began coming forward, confident they would receive top marks. I had no doubt in most of them, except for Mr. Weasley. I couldn't help keeping a close eye on him as he slowly got to his feet. That depressed expression was still present upon his face. It made me worry for the boy a bit. For all I knew, he could be having a serious family issue at home that was causing his grades to drop so dramatically.

Without a glance at me, he dropped his test in the pile and started to turn away.

"Mr. Weasley." He froze. "I would like to have a word with you."

He didn't react. He simply waited like a statue next to my desk. Near the door, I noticed Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger awaiting Ron to join them. I gestured for them to be off.

"Off with you now! Go on, go on."

They followed the instruction, and soon, it was only I and Mr. Weasley in the classroom. His long hair was covering the side of his face which was pointed down to look at the floor. I reframed from telling him he needed a haircut.

"Now that we are alone Mr. Weasley, would you like to tell me what is troubling you?" He muttered something but I couldn't hear it. "Speak up and look at me."

He did so slowly, and if I wasn't mistaken, the death glare was back. I pulled his test from the pile and quickly scanned it. I shook my head. Every answer was automatically wrong. It was as if he had put all his effort into giving silly answers without thinking anything through. I looked at him again. He was frowning.

"Mr. Weasley. It doesn't seem as if you have taken this test seriously. May I ask why?"

He was tight lipped.

"If there is a problem, perhaps we should see the headmaster."

"There is no problem," he muttered. I didn't approve of his tone.

"This is most certainly a problem. Something is affecting your ability to work."

"But, I am trying." Now he was pleading.

"You are not trying. I know the difference between a student who tries, and one who doesn't put their brain to use. According to these answers, you're becoming a little more like your pranking twin brothers. But according to your essay, I'm not sure what to say. I asked for seven rolls of parchment and you gave me three."

"I didn't…I mean…I couldn't—"

"That's right. You couldn't read the chapter, or rather you refused to do so. May I ask why?" I sharpened my tone so that he would know I meant business. His expression seemed to darken as he looked at his paper in my hand.

"You're making it pretty hard for me professor."

"No professor makes it easy on a student," I told him. "Did you think I would pass you without you having to do the work?"

"I'm not just talking about that," he said clearly. "Last year, with the Tournament and the Yule Ball thing. People have been saying things to me."

"What are you talking about Mr. Weasley?"

"I'm talking about the bloody lesson you gave on dancing," he said loudly.

"Watch your language! That'll be ten points from Gryffindor." He gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath. "I will not be spoken to like that! Now if you have a problem—"

"I just told you. You've been making it hard on me. Especially with that dance. No one ever lets me forget that you and I…me and you…danced together."

He was flushing again, but mainly with anger. I pursed my lips.

"It was a simple demonstration Mr. Weasley, nothing more. I can't believe you would be as foolish as to listen to what some student says about it."

"It's not just some student. Slytherins mostly, but some of the Gryffindors too. You don't know what nasty things they say. What one person, drew and left on my bed."

"I suggest you report these examples to the headmaster and have him straighten out the matter if it's as bad as you say, otherwise I suggest you ignore the foolish interpretations of others," I informed him.

"You bloody humiliated me!"

"Language Mr. Weasley! Make it twenty points from Gryffindor!"

He gritted his teeth and held back another curse. For a moment, he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"It's not just that either," he told me. His teeth were gritted, and he looked like he was trying to reframe from striking me physically. "All the extra assignments. You're getting like Snape. Likes to lay it on real thick. And the grades I get from you! They're embarrassing enough!"

"That's enough Mr. Weasley," I had had enough of this conversation. "I had assumed you had some family issue driving your lack of effort, and your inappropriate mood. But I warn you, if you speak to me in that tone again, we will have a real issue between us. I would suggest you find a way to straighten out that mood of yours and get your brain in a proper working order. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes professor." He said it in a dull, uncaring voice.

"You may go."

He slung his book bag over his shoulder and hurried out of the room. I sighed as I watched him go, not sure that I had really gotten through to him.

I had found myself back in my classroom later that evening as I graded the tests. I had no desire to return to my chambers to do so, and I think much of the reason came from the fact that I was worried about Mr. Weasley's behavior. I had never seen him behave so poorly. I had just finished grading a perfect test from Hermione Granger when I came across Mr. Weasley's right underneath her's. What a not so obvious coincidence. I glanced up at the clock. It was well after ten o'clock. Normally I would have had all the papers graded well before then, but, clearly, Mr. Weasley's outburst affected me harder than I thought.

Just then, the door to my classroom slowly swung open, and standing like a ghoul in the doorway was Mr. Weasley. At first, I couldn't tell who it was. The long hair hid the downturned face, and he was standing so still with his arms dropped down to his sides.

"Mr. Weasley? What are you doing up at this hour?"

For a few minutes, he didn't move. When he did, he came straight towards me with his head still turned down.

"I was just thinking professor, could you show me that animagus trick of yours?"

"What?" I thought the boy must be mad. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"I've just told you."

"Stop talking nonsense."

He was looking at me now, and his expression was now showing nervousness.

"I thought I could, as you put it, get my brain in proper working order."

"At this hour in the night?"

"Yes. I've been working on spells and charms all day."

"Well that's very good. I hope it will change that attitude of yours some. Now, off to bed. I wouldn't want to take any more points from you." I didn't know why, but being alone with him was making me a little nervous.

"Please professor, could you show me your animagus form?"

"For what?" I asked sharply.

"To understand the chapter we're suppose to be reading, about people turning into animals."

"That's suppose to be animals being transfigured into people, to which my animagus form will give you no help."

"But I can still get an idea of—"

"Mr. Weasley. You will find all the help you need in the library, or from your friend Ms. Granger, who was able to produce a top worthy paper and a perfect score on her test. But not at this hour. Now if you please, return to your common room at once."

He sighed and looked away. I stared him down.

"Mr. Weasley," I said firmly.

"Alright, I'm going." He turned from me. "There's just…one more thing professor."

"What's that?" I knew I shouldn't have asked, but if it would get him out of my classroom and back into bed, I would humor him. I turned my eyes to him just as he swerved around. His wand was pointed at me. I had no time to react, other than to give him my best shocked expression.

"Angino inretio!"

The orange curse hit me full in the chest! I fell back. I felt myself falling in my chair to the floor. A horrible tingling sensation was spreading through me. I felt myself unable to breath properly. I was still alert, but the panic of the attack was clouding my mind. I rolled my eyes to Mr. Weasley who was now standing over me. He was looking me full in the eyes, his expression blank.

"What have you…."

I couldn't ask it. My breath caught in my throat. The sensation felt like it was burning me. Everything started looking bigger. I was transforming. I was slowly transforming, in the way that I had when I first learned how to transform into my cat animagus form. In a matter of minutes, I was rolling onto my side in my cat body. My breathing started to return to me, but I was feeling weak.

"Humiliate me..professor?"

I could only concentrate on gaining my breath and trying to calm my mind. I was barely aware of him reaching down and wrapping his hands around me. He pulled me into his arms. My vision was starting to swim with the sudden movement. I tried to keep his face in my sight, but it was slowly fading out. He tightened his grip on me and started to move, but the blackness had overcome me at last.

Whoa! I just signed up for this challenge and in the same day I managed to get a chapter out! I'm so glad. Anyways, as you can see, McGonagall is the kidnapped victim and Ron is the kidnapper. I know it may seem a little silly that Ron would take a dancing lesson so hard, but I wanted some strong reason why he'd take her. For that and for the grades. You can just imagine people have been teasing him nastily about it ever since the Tri-wizard tournament. I guess that would make Ron a little out of character, or a lot. This is a darker Ron, but his humorous side may return later.

So what will Ron do with the cat McGonagall? Find out next chapter!

And review review review.

(make note of the rating. That things may take an odd turn later, depending how it goes. So those warnings are just in case).