Hello good folks. I, as I often call myself whilst writing in English, am not the one who authored the original Harry Potter series. Nor did I make any of the movies. I am simply a fan amongst many others, who writes these fanfics in honour of … first of all the original author, JK Rowling. And then the movie makers… then all the other authors out there… and the rest of the human population.. and oh. Well… it's free of charge anyway. Go life! The only thing that could make you better would be… more than one thing! On to the story.
Ramifications of a Full Moon Underwater.
Ronald Weasley, or Ron for short, sat up in his bed. Surrounding him was white draperies, and the smell of disinfectant was heavy in the air.
"Strange" He thought to himself. "I don't remember having this good of a sense of smell."
He heard a pair of steps closing in on his position hurriedly, the drapes were pulled aside and the sudden light blinded him. He groaned out laud and sank back into the mattress. The nurse, whoever she or he was ignored him, and did some magical scan or another.
"I don't remember being able to sense magic like this either." He thought absently.
The nurse left, pulling the draperies close again. Ronald dared to open his eyes again. He was still surrounded by white. As he spotted the bedside table an object immediately caught his attention. A red card, with an unmoving picture of an elephant with a runny nose on it, stood there for the world to see. He reached for it, and felt his muscles stretch. Was he sore or what?
He read the message inside the card;
Get Well Soon!
Best wishes from:
Hermione and Harry!
That was about right. No one else he knew would send him a card with unmoving pictures.
Another glance at the table revealed a few other cards, undoubtedly from his family; they were such worry-warts. Though, when he thought about it, he couldn't even remember why he was in the hospital in the first place. Summer had come around, and they had picked up Harry as usual. Hermione had come over, and they had decided to go out into the wild to look for some red-striped silver-moss; when collected during the full moon its properties were drastically enhanced. She had wanted to further the research in some field or another, and consequently the three of them was whisked away on an unofficial mission to retrieve some very rare ingredients. Ronald recalled going out in some woods, he remembered how he and his friends cast the bubblehead charm and dove under water (and how pleased he was to have turned seventeen a few months earlier) in the lake they found. He also remembered a distinct pair of glowing eyes. And that was it. The rest was blank. He couldn't even recall if they had found the stupid moss or not.
"Hello?"
No one answered his rather raspy call. The nurse person must have left. What to do?
"Helloooo?"
Still nothing….
"I'll just be leaving then."
It seemed as if no one was listening, and thus nobody could complain if he left. He struggled out of the bed, speculating for himself how long he must have been there to have attained such sore muscles. Did you even get sore muscles from resting? He didn't bother finding his own clothes, judging the probability of his escape far too small to believe in, and went for the drapes. Recollecting the memories of painful sunlight only moments ago just in time enabled him to close his eyes before he pulled the drapes opened. Slowly he opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness of what appeared to be early morning, and glimpsed a typical room at St Mungos. His bed was closest to the door and, ignoring the other three beds surrounded by draperies; he walked out of the room.
From there a strange journey took place, it wasn't very extensive lengthwise, but with all the ducking into rooms to avoid the nurses and sneaking around the medi-witches and wizards that seemed to patrol the corridors on the floor, Ron soon had a pretty good idea of where he were. If he wasn't completely mistaken he was put in the magical-creature-wounds sector. Which was a bit odd really, but not completely surprising.
Somehow he made it to the stairs undetected, and descended them towards the lobby.
He heard a voice he recognized on the way, and then another. The exhaustion he felt made it difficult to focus on what they were saying, but it mattered little as they soon met him in the stairs. Harry blinked at him silently, apparently stunned from the unsuspected meeting. Hermione was not.
"RONALD WEASLEY! What do you think your doing out here?"
"I… I thought I could… you know, go home?"
"Oh for the love of… One moment! We left for just a one moment and what do you do? You decide to go home?! No matter that you've been in the hospital for two days straight, unconscious I might add, no you're perfectly fine aren't you?"
"Herm, maybe you should calm down? You're scaring him."
"Do not interrupt me Harry Potter or I will not be held accountable for my actions."
"What's going on?"
"You don't remember?"
"You mister, should still be in bed! Right Now!"
"I'll just go back then?"
"We'll go with you."
Harry took hold of one of his arms and hoisted him up, Hermione followed suit despite her temper, and soon they had made it back to the very room he'd started in.
"I knew I wouldn't make it… Didn't think it would be my friends that dragged me back though. Oh well, I guess it's just as well. I'm getting tired."
Ron didn't realize that he had dozed of until someone shook his shoulder and he jerked awake. He looked up into the worried face of Hermione.
"We have to leave now, but… We'll be back tomorrow, and your family is waiting for their turn to visit. I'm sure your mother will make sure the twins behave."
"Oh, ok. You two are alright and all? I don't really recall what happened after we went underwater…"
"You don't… But perhaps that's better."
"Don't be like that Hermione, he deserves to know. How else do you propose we deal with it next month?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh Ron, I am so sorry… I'm not sure how to tell you this…"
Ron turned to Harry, hoping he would be a bit more to the point than the female part of their little circle. He looked just as bothered by whatever news they had yet to disclose ad her though. But, as always, he would still tell him. Harry, after all, didn't like secrets.
"You were bitten mate."
"Bitten? Am I sick?"
"Don't worry Ronald. I've checked with the ministry and all, and you're not classified as a dark creature or anything."
"If truth be told, you don't seem to be categorized at all."
"I'm going to be honest with you. I've looked everywhere I could think of, but it… I just can't find any other cases such as yours."
"Wait, what are you saying? Am I a werewolf? I didn't see any wolfs down there. And you say I'm not dark? What's going on?"
"Heh, it's a bit odd really mate, quite comical if you think about it…"
"It's nothing to laugh at Harry!"
"Right. Ron, we think you're the very first were-goldfish in the world."
"… Is this a joke? Some elaborate…"
"He's serious Ron."
"No I'm not. I'm Harry…"
"Not now Harry."
"A were-goldfish?"
"You have all the signs of a werewolf victim, only… Harry and I saw you get bitten by a goldfish. It had shining blue eyes, remember?"
And Ronald did remember. The funny neon-blue eyes that had stared out at him from a funny looking miniature house inside a glass bowl on the bottom of the lake. It must have been cursed or something. As Ronald tried to digest the information that had been delivered to him his friends moved out and his family entered.
"Why if it isn't or beloved brother!"
"We have always been of the opinion that you dear brother…"
"… Are the best impressionist of a recently caught fish when surprised."
"And how right we were!"
"Now we only have to get you your very own fish-tank!"
