AN: See end of chapter for notes!

Tuesdays to Ron have always been a bit of an enigma of a day. Mondays, it's a universal nature to hate and Wednesday is that mid-week slump where you're not quite inching towards the weekend but still not free of the clutches of the beginning.

No, if Ron was going to try and describe a Tuesday it would be that split second you wake up before your alarm and that slight feeling of delight at the prospect of snoozing for a while longer. Only for the alarm to go off mere moments later.

Yes Tuesdays, where his day is split between fielding calls from various representatives for the chemical company he works for whilst juggling the copious amounts of debts that's he's meant to be chasing the clientele for. The only thing breaking it up being a simple packed lunch, accompanied by a happy note and doodle from his best friend that she always slips inside.

Today's message simply reading 'If sunshine was a feeling then the whole world should glow with you in it' accompanied by a slightly worrying drawing of stick men apparently shining out their heads.

Its nonsense but the sentiment always brightens his day. He has however started to question where she gets all her material from, Harry says it's all from the heart. Ron's checked the flat 3 times and not found a book yet so unfortunately he can't call Bull to that yet.

Yet.

He still has yet to check the cupboard hidden above their boiler.

So Tuesdays have a bit of a standard routine for Ron. Finish work, get the tube back to his flat (try and avoid staring at the brunette beauty that always seems to take the same tube as him), scope the corridor of his flat building to avoid running in to anyone at flat 14 and if clear slump through the door.

If said corridor however does appear to house a member of flat 14 then he becomes engaged in a complex game of stairs and bannisters. Last time ended with him being stuck up on the roof until Harry got home from work to let him back in.

Seriously they either needed to move or confront the issue.

A fact he issued out loud as he shut the door behind him, throwing his coat amongst the array that donned the small entrance corridor. Seriously that coat rack was one ill aimed throw away from collapsing. But then it was a freebie pulled from a skip that Harry had glued back together and spray painted a vibrant lime green.

Neither of them even liked lime green for pity sake.

"Harry, seriously I can't keep scoping out the building every time I need to come or go. We either make peace or we move"

He yelled into the small living space, chucking his bag down next to one of the sofas, a faded red excuse but the softest cushions imaginable. A gift from his mother when they first started to rent the place that neither could seem to part with.

"Harry?"

The silence made him question his flatmates actually presence but then she should have been back, her class having finished hours ago. A clinking sound from their small kitchenette drawing his attention.

"Everything alright Harry, you're not usually this qui-"

There was a man in their kitchen. Ok more at the breakfast bar but still, a man in his kitchen.

A decidedly quite handsome man but still a man in his kitchen.

He must have been staring longer then he thought as a smooth drawl interrupted the various burglar/murder scenes fighting in his head

"You must be the flatmate….Ronald was it?"

The question, accompanied by an eyebrow raise he couldn't figure out if was either terrifying or mocking snapped him out his daze.

"If you are going to attack me, might I suggest a more…non spoon like weapon?"

Ok definitely mocking, no question.

Putting the large ladle down on the side, grabbed in his fright, he couldn't help the slight tick to his voice.

"Just who-" he ground out "-the hell are you and what are you doing in my flat"

The man simply waved of his question as a dull tone from his blazer breast pocket drew his attention. Pulling out what appeared to be the latest in drool worthy phone tec,

Ron grumbled as the man's face drew back into a small smile before tapping out a response to whoever had messaged him. Locking the screen and sliding it back away, the man met his gauze, deep brown eyes, almost crimson in the light meeting his narrowed ones.

"It would appear none of your concern at this time, I must be off, it would seem my companion has been detained"

Standing, the man brushed off his jacket before waltzing out the kitchen, ignoring Ron as he continued to demand who the man was and his purpose in the flat, let alone how he even got in.

"A- …the man seemed to pause before the front door, rolling the word around his mouth, -pleasure…"

The single word so full of sarcasm Ron had to resist throwing something at him as the man simply opened the front door and walked out, not even pausing to glance behind him.

"I'm calling the police" Ron's final words thrown back as the door slammed shut in front of him.

The man's huffed laugh of a response echoing back at him.

"Have fun with that"

A jaunty hand wave the last mocking piece of the puzzle.

Cursing and opening the door to follow, Ron was met with the eerie silence of an empty corridor.

Seriously they needed to move, Harrys love for their flat or not.

Feeling slightly stumped on what to do next after obviously a break in, he decided his best course of action was to firstly call the police and then warn Harry just in case the creep was lurking around the building still.

Stalking back to the kitchen, Ron noticed the lone glass sat out on the side.

The git even had the audacity to drink out of Harry's favourite glass.

What even were Tuesdays again?

AN: Well here it is, the first thing I have written in years, be gentle my readers, be gentle.

I do have a vague plan on where this might go, so if you want to be part of the journey, climb aboard.

Please leave a comment and review, I would love some feedback!

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