Chapter One: Pigwidgeon vs. Kniff
"Halloween is in two weeks," Ginny Weasley said softly.
Hermione's attention was diverted long enough from her book to smile at Ginny. Smile stretching
tightly across his features, Ron glanced in Ginny's direction before checking his watch and staring
pointedly at the ceiling. The twins simply looked at each other and rubbed their hands together, the only
thing more frightening than their expression what they were planning. Harry, too, gave her a small smile, his
eyes drifting towards Ron before raising to the ceiling. Ginny stifled a giggle and resumed pushing her
abandoned eggs across her plate. Engaged in a smiliar stifling of his mirth, Harry took the last bit of his
pancakes. Staring at the two of them, Ron scowled and muttered something that caused Hermione's
shoulders to lurch. Faces completely innocent, Harry and Ginny simply smiled at him and Ron muttered
again before focusing all of his attention on his watc. Setting her book aside, Hermione turned and
whispered in his ear. Ron's brows raised and he smiled faintly as he shook his head. Hermione shrugged and
went back to her book, her gaze occasionally wandering from her book to Ron or the ceiling overhead.
Scooting closer to Harry, Ginny smirked openly at her brother and continued in a low whisper,
"I heard that there's going to be a surprise at the feast."
"I wouldn't trust it--the Slytherins started it," Harry replied.
Ginny's face fell and he started to chuckle as she self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear.
"Neville heard it from a Hufflepuff."
"Not Carrol, I hope?"
"No."
"Don't talk about the Quaffle-hog," Ron interrupted, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sorry," Harry and Ginny said together.
Ron nodded and resumed his vigil of the ceiling. Hermione looked at him sympathetically, her
gaze lingering over the place he had rubbed on his neck. Shifting uncomfortably in their seats, the twins
mumbled something unintelligible and rose to leave. Biting her lip, Ginny silently pleaded with them not to
go, but there was no persuading them. It hadn't been their fault. Deliberately catching their gaze as they left,
Ron grinned reassuringly and the twins reluctantly returned it. Torn between going after them and staying,
Ginny half rose only to have Harry catch her arm and slowly shake his head. Ginny sighed and sat back
down, unable to keep from seeing Ron's hand raising to rub the back of his neck again, only to halt
unexpectedlyas he stared at it guiltily. It had only happened three days ago.
Ginny, Harry, and Hermione had been sitting before the fire--Hermione was in the midst of
teaching them to play cards--when Ron unobtrusively slunk in through the portrait hole, his robes drawn up
around his neck. Grinning madly, Harry rapped his fist upon the table and Hermione and Ginny screamed
simultaneously, throwing away their cards. Placing her hands over her face, Hermione glared at Harry
between her fingers and said,
"Remind me why I taught you this game."
"You like to be beaten soundly," Harry replied, starightening up the cards Hermione and Ginny
had discarded.
Ron took no notice of his friends as he walked past, burrowing his head deeper into his robes.
Catching sight of him, Ginny stuck her tongue out at Harry and called,
"Wanna play, Ron? We can deal you in since Harry just won AGAIN."
"No," Ron answered shortly, still not looking at them.
Exchanging quizzical glances, the trio clustered around the fire shrugged and Harry began
shuffling the deck. Walking until he believed himself to be at a safe distance from them, Ron paused at the
stairs leading up to the dormitories and gingerly placed a hand at the back of his neck. He winced and
quickly shoved his hand in his pockets. Now if he could only make it up the stairs no one would know until
it was too late to do anything about it. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure that the three of them were
still happily playing cards before he walked up the stairs. He didn't see Hermione studying him with an
anxious expression, the three cards she held in front of her face invisible to her eyes. Instead he took the
stairs as quickly as possible, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in his neck.
Reaching the dormitory, he shut the door behind him and leaned back against it for a moment.
He had gotten past...that was all that mattered. A sharp pain shot through his neck and he gritted his teeth as
he touched it with one hand. Stepping away from the door, he carefully began to take off his robes, the
fabric sticking and peeling off rather painfully around his neck. Tossing the robes aside, Ron rummaged
through his belongings, taking an old shirt and promptly pulling it over his head. It wouldn't take long for its
collar to become as soaked as his robes. Where did Harry keep those old socks? Performing a similar search
through Harry's things, Ron emerged with a ghastly looking pair, already rasiing the first to his neck when
the door opened to reveal Hermione.
"You're not supposed to be in here," Ron said thickly, turning quickly, but not quickly enough to
keep her from seeing the sock clamped to his neck.
"Are you bleeding?" Hermione asked quietly.
Ron stared at her for a moment, surprised that she could be so calm. Tempted to say no, he
opened his mouth several times without making any sound and finally answered,
"Yes."
Hermione's eyes widened and in the space of a blink, she was standing behind him and lifting the
olive green sock away from his neck. Cringing, Ron clenched his fists and asked in a strained voice,
"How bad is it?"
"How did you get this?" Hermione asked instead, taking the sock and dabbing at his neck even
though he winced every time the fabric met his skin.
"How are you even reaching it?" Ron countered.
The dabbing at his cut halted for a second and then continued as Hermione replied,
"Tip toes, you ninny. I'm not leaving until you tell me and knowing you, that's going to be a
very long time. So...can't we at least sit down?"
Chuckling, Ron nodded and promptly collapsed on the end of his bed while Hermione
continued to mop up his neck. A silence rose up between them as Ron furiously sought not to indicate the
pain he suffered whiel Hermione tried not to let her imagination dwell on what had happened. Resolving that
he had to tell her something, Ron waited until the bleeding had stopped and Hermione was busy trying to
remember the right charm to bandage his neck to say,
"I was ambushed."
In the middle of her incantation Hermione paused, her eyes widening even though Ron couldn't
see. Deliberately keeping his gaze averted, Ron clenched his fists again as he continued,
"I didn't go to Madam Pomfey because I don't know who did it--though I think I can guess. In
my robes."
Looking at him quizzically, Hermione quickly cast the spell that would bandage his neck and
scurried over to where he had thrown them. Her nose wrinkled at the blood soaked into the collar but Ron's
expression was blank when she looked at him. Sticking one hand inside, Hermoine searched around until
she felt a circular object and pulled it out. Her face fell as she looked at it. Recognizing it as one of the
buttons Fred and George had made a week ago after the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff(see To Your
Brooms), she frowned to see that it no longer read Horrible Hurtful Hufflepuffs, but Wimpy Whiny Wittle
Weasley. On the back, the pin that was strangely longer than most was unclasped and crusted over with
blood. Hand covering her mouth, Hermione wordlessly looked up at Ron who tried to smile and failed.
"That's the only one I managed to save. I expect that in the morning it'll read Horrible Hurtful
Hufflepuffs again."
Lips tightening, Hermione looked down at the button as if she would will it not to change and
Ron was certain that she was searching through her mind for a counter charm as she moved to sit beside him.
He didn't say anything else, periodically closing his eyes as faint twinges of pain seared through his cut and he
tried not to think about what had happened. If he told her, she was going to demand that he tell someone and
it would do him no good. He had no proof and the fact that he had been hurt at all could just have been an
accident. Unlikely, but possible. Why wasn't she plying him with questions? Ron had never known Hermione
to be this silent for so long willingly. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes, he smiled to see that she
was twisting the life out of the blood spattered sock and gently pried it away from her.
"I forgot something, you remember, so I went back. The lights went out in the corridor for some
reason--I thought it was Peeves--and the next thing I knew, somebody dropped a barrel full of buttons on my
head. That one hit me when I got up," he explained softly.
"Didn't you see or hear anything?"
"Footsteps, nothing else. Look, it's changed," Ron said with a shrug, taking the button and flipping
it over in his hands.
Looking down at the button in dismay, Hermione sighed and ventured,
"Ron..."
"I don't have any proof! All I have is my word and a button that doesn't say what is said when it
hit me. And I don't want to be the one who's responsible for an all out war between Hufflepuff and
Gryffindor. That's the last thing anyone needs right now," Ron concluded, flinging aside both the button and
the blood-spattered sock with distaste while he waited for her to lecture him.
Hermione said nothing for several minutes, her gaze focused straight ahead. Squirming, Ron
gingerly checked the bandage she had magically applied to his neck and told himself to be patient. Smiling
mischievously, Hermione suddenly turned to him and placed a hand across his forehead.
"What're you doing?"
"Checking to make certain you're feeling well. You can't be, otherwise you'd have barged into
the Hufflepuff common room with your fists flying."
"Oh, I wanted to," Ron muttered, his features darkening. Beside him, Hermione stiffened in alarm
as he continued, "I wanted to take the bloody button and chuck it right at the Quaffle-hog's head. I spotted a
Hufflepuff to follow...but it wouldn't do any good. He'd just retaliate. I reckon they are kissing cousins. He's
too upset...that's so sick."
Burying his face in his hands, Ron began to shake with silent laughter. He would give anything to
be able to knock off the smug on Carrol's face but it wouldn't get him anywhere. Dumping a barrel full of
buttons on top of Ron had been as good-humored as the original buttons were, but the hit had been deliberate
and only one person had the motivation. He was beginning to think that there was more to Carrol's dislike of
him than what had happened at the Quidditch tryouts, but what it could be, he didn't want to try and figure
out. The only thing that mattered was keeping this thing quiet--Carrol expect him to go shouting it from the
rooftops and if Ron had anything to say about it, neither Ravenclaw or Slytherin or even the majority of
Gryffindor would ever hear a word about it. Beside him, Hermione was lost in thought, one hand at her chin,
her eyes focused straight ahead. A hint of confusion was etched upon her features--Ron wagered she wasn't
able to accept what he had said--and he turned to her with a small smile.
"'Mione, if we tell them..."
"If?" Hermione asked softly, throwing him a brief look. Ron sighed.
"When we tell them, we have to play it down. I don't want Fred and George taking up arms on my
behalf. I'll tell Harry, but the twins and Gin...they can't know."
"Your neck needs explaining."
"I fell on the stairs."
Hermione's brows raisd and she looked at his neck as if to say there was no possible way he had
gotten it falling down the stairs.
"If they come to their own conclusions, I won't deny it, but I won't confirm it either. You won't
say otherwise?"
He looked at her so pleadingly that Hermione didn't see how she could refuse him, but she
couldn't answer him immediately. He had a point--which was odd, considering it was Ron. The twins were
as irrational as Ron at times and telling them that there had been a deliberate attack on their younger brother
due to something they had done would only end in disaster. Ginny could handle it, but she would worry and
by now Hermione was well aware of Ron's aversion to anyone worrying over him when he thought it was
unnecessary. And she could not argue with his choice not to retaliate, even though it amazed her that he
had even come to it. Where was the Ron Weasley who usually acted first and thought afterwards? For a
moment she actually thought she missed him.
"I'll back you up," she said finally, throwing him a weak smile.
Relief flooded his face and Ron quickly restrained himself from hugging her in his gratitude.
"Thanks," he managed to say before springing from the bed, suddenly anxious to be away from
her.
"Get a grip, Weasley," Ron muttered under his breath, running his fingers through his hair and
patting the bandage on his neck in an action that was soon to become a habit. On the bed, Hermione's face
blanched and she rose softly to her feet, her gaze distinctly avoiding his. Glancing at her over his shoulder,
Ron started as she stooped and picked up his discarded robes. Murmuring, Hermione smiled as the blood
stains disappeared and neatly folded up his robes. She looked around for a place to put them only to clasp
the black folds to her chest as she asked softly,
"Were you going to tell me you fell down the stairs?"
Ron froze, his mouth opening without sound several times before he turned to face her, his
lop-sided smile stretching sheepishly across his face as he answered,
"Yes." Her face fell and she dropped his gaze as Ron slowly shook his head and continued, "But
I knew you wouldn't believe it."
"You could have saved us both some trouble," Hermione retorted, slowly looking up at him after
throwing his robes on his bed.
"Nah. What fun would that be? Should we go back before they organize a spy mission?"
"They wouldn't dare," Hermione cried, her shoulders starting to shake.
Ron simply rasied his brows. Hermione burst out laughing.
Despite his efforts, Ron had not been able to keep what had happened a secret from his siblings
and no matter what he said, the twins considere themselves responsible. Ginny sighed and looked towards
the ceiling along with everyone else in the Great hall. The owls had arrived.
Peering up into the swarm of feathered birds, Ron muttered under his breath until he caught sight
of a tiny feathered missile headed straight for him. Jaws dropping, his companions were as startled as he when
Pigwidgeon plummeted from the ceiling into Ron's lap, hooting continously. The tiny owl was on Ron's lap
for only a second before it began to shake uncontrollably, its hooting sounding more like strangled hiccoughs.
Cradling the owl in his hands, Ron smiledin relief to see the letter from Charlie he bore and gently began to
untie it. At his touch, Pigwidgeon ceased hooting, but began again a moment later, more frantically than
before. Bewildered, Ron freed the letter and set it aside, raising Pigwidgeon to his eyes in order to have a
serious chat with him only to have the tiny owl start shaking again. It hadn't been that far...and Charlie(who
was secretly just as fond of the little owl as Ron was)always made sure Pig was fully rested before sending
him back. What was upsetting the silly bird so? Ron turned to his companions to solicit their opinions only
to find they were still gaping at the ceiling. He had but to raise his eyes to become their mirror.
Lazily circling the permiters of the Great Hall was the largest owl he had ever seen. Gray and
black in color, its ears were long and pointed and even at this distance, its glaring yellow eyes seemed larger
than usual. Circling the ceiling a second time, the gigantic owl hovered in mid-air for a split second before
gliding downward to land in front of Hermione. As the owl looked towards Ron, Pig began to squirm and it
took all of his strength to keep the owl from flying away. Cheeks turning a faint shade of pink, Hermione
tentatively untied the note attached to the leg the owl had offered her, the broad scrawl across it belonging to
Krum. Message delivered, the gigantic owl remained where it was, its head turning constantly to survey the
inhabitants of the hall. Whenever its gaze happened to fall on Pig, the tiny owl emitted a high pitched hoot
and cowered within Ron's hands. Gaze riveted upon the gray owl, Hermione wordlessly extended the letter
towards Ron, not even bothering to read it for herself. Sighing, Ron deposited the still quivering Pig in his
lap and took the letter with one hand, the other absently stroking Pig. Opening the letter, he glanced around
to make certain that his usual assembly of listeners were paying attention and cleared his throat.
"Dear Hermy-own-ninny: I hope that I haff not frightened you vith my new owl. His name is
Kniff and I haff had a vary difficult time aff catching him. My students are doing vary well. I expect they vill
be flying like experts in no time at all. (Boring, boring, Ron added)Vhat do you think of Kniff? He does his
job vary good, yes? I haff spent most of my time training him this past week. I am pleased to hear that you
are keeping up vith your studies and that your house has von its first Quidditch match. You may vant to tell
Mr. Veasley that ramming the Seeker is not a good habit to haff. (Ron fidgeted slightly as chuckles circled
around the group and continued reading) I vill be late for my next class if I write much more but I haff
something to tell you. I hope you vill not be angry. I..." Ron halted, Krum's next word freezing in his throat.
"Ron?" Hermione questioned, a strange smile on her face as she gestured idly for him to continue
reading, her gaze still focused on the abnormally large Kniff.
Swallowing, Ron glanced at her and continued in a tight voice,
"I vill be coming to Hogwarts for the Halloween feast."
"What?" Hermione cried, whisking the letter out of his hands and reading it for herself.
"Is he really coming?" Ginny asked, sliding over to peek at the letter.
Hermione nodded and the two girls erupted into a fit of giggles that made both Harry and Ron
roll their eyes. Glancing hastily at the glowering Kniff, Ron glared back at the owl and scooped up Pig and
Charlie's letter. Krum and his oh-so-peachy visit would be the topic for what remained of breakfast and he
had no desire to be present for it. There was Charlie's letter to read, too, and one to be sent immediately in
return. In spite of himself, he looked over his shoulder as he exited the Great Hall. Hermione and Ginny were
still in raptures over the letter--Harry was looking as if he wished he had left with Ron as the two girls
promptly turned and involved him in their excited chatter. All this fuss over Krum...how was he going to get
through the next few days?
Finding a secluded spot on one of the stairways, Ron set Pig beside him on the stairs and opened
up Charlie's letter. Considering what Hermione's letter had contained, Ron was more than afraid of what his
favorite brother had to say.
Ron: I can't write much because I have to leave in a few minutes. We're going into hiding in the
mountains. Something is definitely going on here...wish I knew what. You made the right decision about the
button, by the way. Never saw that coming. Keep a close watch on Hermione. I know that's not asking you to
do anything you don't already do(Very funny, Char)but the more I find out here, the less I like her
communication with Krum. He may be involved without realizing it. Arm's okay...no more bleeding...too
close of a shave, though. Write me only if anything important develops...we need to keep our location as
secret as possible--Pig's small enough to escape much notice but a low profile is more important than
Quidditch matches. Don't worry and don't let Hermione worry either. Candyware. Charlie.
Scowling, Ron obediently said the word, "Candyware," and watched as a soft light enveloped the
piece of parchment and the writing on it transformed. Should anyone find the letter among Ron's belongings,
it would be nothing more than a teasing note from his older brother without any references to watching over
Hermione or hiding in the mountains. Charlie wasn't going to like Krum's coming to Hogwarts, not one bit.
Ron didn't like it either. Running his hands through his hair again, he sighed heavily and looked at Pig,
happily perched on the edge of the stairs. The little own turned his head quizzically at Ron's gaze and let out
a soft hoot. Reluctantly Ron started to smile and picked up Pig before rising to his feet. He had better write
Charlie right away...he had a feeling he already knew what his brother was going to ask him to do, but it
would be better if he officially received his orders. Why, in heaven's name, had that idiot Bulgarian decided
to come and visit Hermione? If it was to romance her...Ron shuddered and quickened his pace. The sooner
he heard from Charlie the better. This morning had started out so well.
"Halloween is in two weeks," Ginny Weasley said softly.
Hermione's attention was diverted long enough from her book to smile at Ginny. Smile stretching
tightly across his features, Ron glanced in Ginny's direction before checking his watch and staring
pointedly at the ceiling. The twins simply looked at each other and rubbed their hands together, the only
thing more frightening than their expression what they were planning. Harry, too, gave her a small smile, his
eyes drifting towards Ron before raising to the ceiling. Ginny stifled a giggle and resumed pushing her
abandoned eggs across her plate. Engaged in a smiliar stifling of his mirth, Harry took the last bit of his
pancakes. Staring at the two of them, Ron scowled and muttered something that caused Hermione's
shoulders to lurch. Faces completely innocent, Harry and Ginny simply smiled at him and Ron muttered
again before focusing all of his attention on his watc. Setting her book aside, Hermione turned and
whispered in his ear. Ron's brows raised and he smiled faintly as he shook his head. Hermione shrugged and
went back to her book, her gaze occasionally wandering from her book to Ron or the ceiling overhead.
Scooting closer to Harry, Ginny smirked openly at her brother and continued in a low whisper,
"I heard that there's going to be a surprise at the feast."
"I wouldn't trust it--the Slytherins started it," Harry replied.
Ginny's face fell and he started to chuckle as she self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear.
"Neville heard it from a Hufflepuff."
"Not Carrol, I hope?"
"No."
"Don't talk about the Quaffle-hog," Ron interrupted, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sorry," Harry and Ginny said together.
Ron nodded and resumed his vigil of the ceiling. Hermione looked at him sympathetically, her
gaze lingering over the place he had rubbed on his neck. Shifting uncomfortably in their seats, the twins
mumbled something unintelligible and rose to leave. Biting her lip, Ginny silently pleaded with them not to
go, but there was no persuading them. It hadn't been their fault. Deliberately catching their gaze as they left,
Ron grinned reassuringly and the twins reluctantly returned it. Torn between going after them and staying,
Ginny half rose only to have Harry catch her arm and slowly shake his head. Ginny sighed and sat back
down, unable to keep from seeing Ron's hand raising to rub the back of his neck again, only to halt
unexpectedlyas he stared at it guiltily. It had only happened three days ago.
Ginny, Harry, and Hermione had been sitting before the fire--Hermione was in the midst of
teaching them to play cards--when Ron unobtrusively slunk in through the portrait hole, his robes drawn up
around his neck. Grinning madly, Harry rapped his fist upon the table and Hermione and Ginny screamed
simultaneously, throwing away their cards. Placing her hands over her face, Hermione glared at Harry
between her fingers and said,
"Remind me why I taught you this game."
"You like to be beaten soundly," Harry replied, starightening up the cards Hermione and Ginny
had discarded.
Ron took no notice of his friends as he walked past, burrowing his head deeper into his robes.
Catching sight of him, Ginny stuck her tongue out at Harry and called,
"Wanna play, Ron? We can deal you in since Harry just won AGAIN."
"No," Ron answered shortly, still not looking at them.
Exchanging quizzical glances, the trio clustered around the fire shrugged and Harry began
shuffling the deck. Walking until he believed himself to be at a safe distance from them, Ron paused at the
stairs leading up to the dormitories and gingerly placed a hand at the back of his neck. He winced and
quickly shoved his hand in his pockets. Now if he could only make it up the stairs no one would know until
it was too late to do anything about it. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure that the three of them were
still happily playing cards before he walked up the stairs. He didn't see Hermione studying him with an
anxious expression, the three cards she held in front of her face invisible to her eyes. Instead he took the
stairs as quickly as possible, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in his neck.
Reaching the dormitory, he shut the door behind him and leaned back against it for a moment.
He had gotten past...that was all that mattered. A sharp pain shot through his neck and he gritted his teeth as
he touched it with one hand. Stepping away from the door, he carefully began to take off his robes, the
fabric sticking and peeling off rather painfully around his neck. Tossing the robes aside, Ron rummaged
through his belongings, taking an old shirt and promptly pulling it over his head. It wouldn't take long for its
collar to become as soaked as his robes. Where did Harry keep those old socks? Performing a similar search
through Harry's things, Ron emerged with a ghastly looking pair, already rasiing the first to his neck when
the door opened to reveal Hermione.
"You're not supposed to be in here," Ron said thickly, turning quickly, but not quickly enough to
keep her from seeing the sock clamped to his neck.
"Are you bleeding?" Hermione asked quietly.
Ron stared at her for a moment, surprised that she could be so calm. Tempted to say no, he
opened his mouth several times without making any sound and finally answered,
"Yes."
Hermione's eyes widened and in the space of a blink, she was standing behind him and lifting the
olive green sock away from his neck. Cringing, Ron clenched his fists and asked in a strained voice,
"How bad is it?"
"How did you get this?" Hermione asked instead, taking the sock and dabbing at his neck even
though he winced every time the fabric met his skin.
"How are you even reaching it?" Ron countered.
The dabbing at his cut halted for a second and then continued as Hermione replied,
"Tip toes, you ninny. I'm not leaving until you tell me and knowing you, that's going to be a
very long time. So...can't we at least sit down?"
Chuckling, Ron nodded and promptly collapsed on the end of his bed while Hermione
continued to mop up his neck. A silence rose up between them as Ron furiously sought not to indicate the
pain he suffered whiel Hermione tried not to let her imagination dwell on what had happened. Resolving that
he had to tell her something, Ron waited until the bleeding had stopped and Hermione was busy trying to
remember the right charm to bandage his neck to say,
"I was ambushed."
In the middle of her incantation Hermione paused, her eyes widening even though Ron couldn't
see. Deliberately keeping his gaze averted, Ron clenched his fists again as he continued,
"I didn't go to Madam Pomfey because I don't know who did it--though I think I can guess. In
my robes."
Looking at him quizzically, Hermione quickly cast the spell that would bandage his neck and
scurried over to where he had thrown them. Her nose wrinkled at the blood soaked into the collar but Ron's
expression was blank when she looked at him. Sticking one hand inside, Hermoine searched around until
she felt a circular object and pulled it out. Her face fell as she looked at it. Recognizing it as one of the
buttons Fred and George had made a week ago after the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff(see To Your
Brooms), she frowned to see that it no longer read Horrible Hurtful Hufflepuffs, but Wimpy Whiny Wittle
Weasley. On the back, the pin that was strangely longer than most was unclasped and crusted over with
blood. Hand covering her mouth, Hermione wordlessly looked up at Ron who tried to smile and failed.
"That's the only one I managed to save. I expect that in the morning it'll read Horrible Hurtful
Hufflepuffs again."
Lips tightening, Hermione looked down at the button as if she would will it not to change and
Ron was certain that she was searching through her mind for a counter charm as she moved to sit beside him.
He didn't say anything else, periodically closing his eyes as faint twinges of pain seared through his cut and he
tried not to think about what had happened. If he told her, she was going to demand that he tell someone and
it would do him no good. He had no proof and the fact that he had been hurt at all could just have been an
accident. Unlikely, but possible. Why wasn't she plying him with questions? Ron had never known Hermione
to be this silent for so long willingly. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes, he smiled to see that she
was twisting the life out of the blood spattered sock and gently pried it away from her.
"I forgot something, you remember, so I went back. The lights went out in the corridor for some
reason--I thought it was Peeves--and the next thing I knew, somebody dropped a barrel full of buttons on my
head. That one hit me when I got up," he explained softly.
"Didn't you see or hear anything?"
"Footsteps, nothing else. Look, it's changed," Ron said with a shrug, taking the button and flipping
it over in his hands.
Looking down at the button in dismay, Hermione sighed and ventured,
"Ron..."
"I don't have any proof! All I have is my word and a button that doesn't say what is said when it
hit me. And I don't want to be the one who's responsible for an all out war between Hufflepuff and
Gryffindor. That's the last thing anyone needs right now," Ron concluded, flinging aside both the button and
the blood-spattered sock with distaste while he waited for her to lecture him.
Hermione said nothing for several minutes, her gaze focused straight ahead. Squirming, Ron
gingerly checked the bandage she had magically applied to his neck and told himself to be patient. Smiling
mischievously, Hermione suddenly turned to him and placed a hand across his forehead.
"What're you doing?"
"Checking to make certain you're feeling well. You can't be, otherwise you'd have barged into
the Hufflepuff common room with your fists flying."
"Oh, I wanted to," Ron muttered, his features darkening. Beside him, Hermione stiffened in alarm
as he continued, "I wanted to take the bloody button and chuck it right at the Quaffle-hog's head. I spotted a
Hufflepuff to follow...but it wouldn't do any good. He'd just retaliate. I reckon they are kissing cousins. He's
too upset...that's so sick."
Burying his face in his hands, Ron began to shake with silent laughter. He would give anything to
be able to knock off the smug on Carrol's face but it wouldn't get him anywhere. Dumping a barrel full of
buttons on top of Ron had been as good-humored as the original buttons were, but the hit had been deliberate
and only one person had the motivation. He was beginning to think that there was more to Carrol's dislike of
him than what had happened at the Quidditch tryouts, but what it could be, he didn't want to try and figure
out. The only thing that mattered was keeping this thing quiet--Carrol expect him to go shouting it from the
rooftops and if Ron had anything to say about it, neither Ravenclaw or Slytherin or even the majority of
Gryffindor would ever hear a word about it. Beside him, Hermione was lost in thought, one hand at her chin,
her eyes focused straight ahead. A hint of confusion was etched upon her features--Ron wagered she wasn't
able to accept what he had said--and he turned to her with a small smile.
"'Mione, if we tell them..."
"If?" Hermione asked softly, throwing him a brief look. Ron sighed.
"When we tell them, we have to play it down. I don't want Fred and George taking up arms on my
behalf. I'll tell Harry, but the twins and Gin...they can't know."
"Your neck needs explaining."
"I fell on the stairs."
Hermione's brows raisd and she looked at his neck as if to say there was no possible way he had
gotten it falling down the stairs.
"If they come to their own conclusions, I won't deny it, but I won't confirm it either. You won't
say otherwise?"
He looked at her so pleadingly that Hermione didn't see how she could refuse him, but she
couldn't answer him immediately. He had a point--which was odd, considering it was Ron. The twins were
as irrational as Ron at times and telling them that there had been a deliberate attack on their younger brother
due to something they had done would only end in disaster. Ginny could handle it, but she would worry and
by now Hermione was well aware of Ron's aversion to anyone worrying over him when he thought it was
unnecessary. And she could not argue with his choice not to retaliate, even though it amazed her that he
had even come to it. Where was the Ron Weasley who usually acted first and thought afterwards? For a
moment she actually thought she missed him.
"I'll back you up," she said finally, throwing him a weak smile.
Relief flooded his face and Ron quickly restrained himself from hugging her in his gratitude.
"Thanks," he managed to say before springing from the bed, suddenly anxious to be away from
her.
"Get a grip, Weasley," Ron muttered under his breath, running his fingers through his hair and
patting the bandage on his neck in an action that was soon to become a habit. On the bed, Hermione's face
blanched and she rose softly to her feet, her gaze distinctly avoiding his. Glancing at her over his shoulder,
Ron started as she stooped and picked up his discarded robes. Murmuring, Hermione smiled as the blood
stains disappeared and neatly folded up his robes. She looked around for a place to put them only to clasp
the black folds to her chest as she asked softly,
"Were you going to tell me you fell down the stairs?"
Ron froze, his mouth opening without sound several times before he turned to face her, his
lop-sided smile stretching sheepishly across his face as he answered,
"Yes." Her face fell and she dropped his gaze as Ron slowly shook his head and continued, "But
I knew you wouldn't believe it."
"You could have saved us both some trouble," Hermione retorted, slowly looking up at him after
throwing his robes on his bed.
"Nah. What fun would that be? Should we go back before they organize a spy mission?"
"They wouldn't dare," Hermione cried, her shoulders starting to shake.
Ron simply rasied his brows. Hermione burst out laughing.
Despite his efforts, Ron had not been able to keep what had happened a secret from his siblings
and no matter what he said, the twins considere themselves responsible. Ginny sighed and looked towards
the ceiling along with everyone else in the Great hall. The owls had arrived.
Peering up into the swarm of feathered birds, Ron muttered under his breath until he caught sight
of a tiny feathered missile headed straight for him. Jaws dropping, his companions were as startled as he when
Pigwidgeon plummeted from the ceiling into Ron's lap, hooting continously. The tiny owl was on Ron's lap
for only a second before it began to shake uncontrollably, its hooting sounding more like strangled hiccoughs.
Cradling the owl in his hands, Ron smiledin relief to see the letter from Charlie he bore and gently began to
untie it. At his touch, Pigwidgeon ceased hooting, but began again a moment later, more frantically than
before. Bewildered, Ron freed the letter and set it aside, raising Pigwidgeon to his eyes in order to have a
serious chat with him only to have the tiny owl start shaking again. It hadn't been that far...and Charlie(who
was secretly just as fond of the little owl as Ron was)always made sure Pig was fully rested before sending
him back. What was upsetting the silly bird so? Ron turned to his companions to solicit their opinions only
to find they were still gaping at the ceiling. He had but to raise his eyes to become their mirror.
Lazily circling the permiters of the Great Hall was the largest owl he had ever seen. Gray and
black in color, its ears were long and pointed and even at this distance, its glaring yellow eyes seemed larger
than usual. Circling the ceiling a second time, the gigantic owl hovered in mid-air for a split second before
gliding downward to land in front of Hermione. As the owl looked towards Ron, Pig began to squirm and it
took all of his strength to keep the owl from flying away. Cheeks turning a faint shade of pink, Hermione
tentatively untied the note attached to the leg the owl had offered her, the broad scrawl across it belonging to
Krum. Message delivered, the gigantic owl remained where it was, its head turning constantly to survey the
inhabitants of the hall. Whenever its gaze happened to fall on Pig, the tiny owl emitted a high pitched hoot
and cowered within Ron's hands. Gaze riveted upon the gray owl, Hermione wordlessly extended the letter
towards Ron, not even bothering to read it for herself. Sighing, Ron deposited the still quivering Pig in his
lap and took the letter with one hand, the other absently stroking Pig. Opening the letter, he glanced around
to make certain that his usual assembly of listeners were paying attention and cleared his throat.
"Dear Hermy-own-ninny: I hope that I haff not frightened you vith my new owl. His name is
Kniff and I haff had a vary difficult time aff catching him. My students are doing vary well. I expect they vill
be flying like experts in no time at all. (Boring, boring, Ron added)Vhat do you think of Kniff? He does his
job vary good, yes? I haff spent most of my time training him this past week. I am pleased to hear that you
are keeping up vith your studies and that your house has von its first Quidditch match. You may vant to tell
Mr. Veasley that ramming the Seeker is not a good habit to haff. (Ron fidgeted slightly as chuckles circled
around the group and continued reading) I vill be late for my next class if I write much more but I haff
something to tell you. I hope you vill not be angry. I..." Ron halted, Krum's next word freezing in his throat.
"Ron?" Hermione questioned, a strange smile on her face as she gestured idly for him to continue
reading, her gaze still focused on the abnormally large Kniff.
Swallowing, Ron glanced at her and continued in a tight voice,
"I vill be coming to Hogwarts for the Halloween feast."
"What?" Hermione cried, whisking the letter out of his hands and reading it for herself.
"Is he really coming?" Ginny asked, sliding over to peek at the letter.
Hermione nodded and the two girls erupted into a fit of giggles that made both Harry and Ron
roll their eyes. Glancing hastily at the glowering Kniff, Ron glared back at the owl and scooped up Pig and
Charlie's letter. Krum and his oh-so-peachy visit would be the topic for what remained of breakfast and he
had no desire to be present for it. There was Charlie's letter to read, too, and one to be sent immediately in
return. In spite of himself, he looked over his shoulder as he exited the Great Hall. Hermione and Ginny were
still in raptures over the letter--Harry was looking as if he wished he had left with Ron as the two girls
promptly turned and involved him in their excited chatter. All this fuss over Krum...how was he going to get
through the next few days?
Finding a secluded spot on one of the stairways, Ron set Pig beside him on the stairs and opened
up Charlie's letter. Considering what Hermione's letter had contained, Ron was more than afraid of what his
favorite brother had to say.
Ron: I can't write much because I have to leave in a few minutes. We're going into hiding in the
mountains. Something is definitely going on here...wish I knew what. You made the right decision about the
button, by the way. Never saw that coming. Keep a close watch on Hermione. I know that's not asking you to
do anything you don't already do(Very funny, Char)but the more I find out here, the less I like her
communication with Krum. He may be involved without realizing it. Arm's okay...no more bleeding...too
close of a shave, though. Write me only if anything important develops...we need to keep our location as
secret as possible--Pig's small enough to escape much notice but a low profile is more important than
Quidditch matches. Don't worry and don't let Hermione worry either. Candyware. Charlie.
Scowling, Ron obediently said the word, "Candyware," and watched as a soft light enveloped the
piece of parchment and the writing on it transformed. Should anyone find the letter among Ron's belongings,
it would be nothing more than a teasing note from his older brother without any references to watching over
Hermione or hiding in the mountains. Charlie wasn't going to like Krum's coming to Hogwarts, not one bit.
Ron didn't like it either. Running his hands through his hair again, he sighed heavily and looked at Pig,
happily perched on the edge of the stairs. The little own turned his head quizzically at Ron's gaze and let out
a soft hoot. Reluctantly Ron started to smile and picked up Pig before rising to his feet. He had better write
Charlie right away...he had a feeling he already knew what his brother was going to ask him to do, but it
would be better if he officially received his orders. Why, in heaven's name, had that idiot Bulgarian decided
to come and visit Hermione? If it was to romance her...Ron shuddered and quickened his pace. The sooner
he heard from Charlie the better. This morning had started out so well.