o///> ---That's a fish, incase you didn't know :)
Ron walked down the boy's
staircase that morning and into the common room. A new cascade of
nightmares had invaded his brain that night and were still fresh in his
mind. He looked like he hadn't slept. He found Harry and Hermione,
taking advantage of their free Saturday by playing a game of exploding
snap. *Why* did she have to be playing now, especially with *him*.
He wanted to talk to her and missed all of her attentions. His nightmares
were becoming unbearable and he wanted Hermione's help to try and rid himself
of them. Ron grew spiteful of Harry, and even Hermione. He
did miss Harry's friendship, but was also glad to be rid of it. He
had so much more time; not having to spend his every free moment in the
library looking up hard-to-find things, finding out dangerous mysteries,
and fighting evil. All he needed was some support, and now his reinforcements
were playing exploding snap. Why didn't they see he *needed* them?
He went to sulk in the corner. Fred and George came bouncing in,
dripping snow and mud all over the carpet in the process (Filch would kill
them for that later), and laughing like mad.
"Common Ron, get outside and have some fun," Fred said, noticing Ron's
furrowed brow and sneer. Ron turned his head away from Harry and
just glared. Fred shrugged, "Suit yourself," he said, determined
not to let his brother's little hissy-fit --and increasingly bad
attitude-- spoil his good mood.
"Harry, Hermione… you guys should have a go at the lake. It's
frozen up good," George said to the two. Hermione placed the last
of her cards onto the structure, but knocked another in the process.
The thing exploded in her face.
"Sure George, what a great idea," she replied, rubbing her singed eyebrows. She took her wand from her pocket and transfigured her and Harry pairs of skates. Ron wanted to join, and almost said so, but since Harry was going… Stupid Harry, he ruins everything. Ron remembered his dreams. "… Harry, we need a Prefect's help……… can't have you collapsing ……… your money…er…situation……… noticed you didn't have one in class ……… *a vision of Harry rolling in gold and laughing at Ron*..…" Ron could feel a little mental tug pointing the blame --for everything wrong in life-- straight at Harry. It was all Harry's fault. All of it. So *that's* what his mind had been trying to tell him all this time... Ron easily accepted the idea (that it was his subconscious mind's idea, and not his controlled-by-Voldie's mind idea's [not that he would know of that yet] ;) and continued to wallow in self-pity. Ron watched Harry and Hermione leave, swinging their skates as they did so. 'Hermione didn't say goodbye,' Ron thought, 'She didn't even look back…'
"Good bye Hermione!" He yelled, running out the portrait hole and hoping
she would at least reply, but she was out of earshot. Ron leaned
against the wall, and then slumped to the ground. Now Hermione wouldn't
even say goodbye -and all Harry's fault too. Ron stood up and
walked slowly back to the common room.
*-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-*
The sound of people gleefully
laughing finally got to Ron, and he went to the window to close it.
He really couldn't do his homework with all that happy noise going on.
He stopped in front of the window and looked at who was creating all that
racket. Harry and Hermione were skating on the lake, making circles
and figure eights and having a great time. He watched as Cho Chang
put on her skates and joined them. *'It all came back to Harry, didn't
it?'* His mind began to think to itself. He couldn't even have a
few hours of peace without Harry annoying him somehow. Without thinking
(because he wasn't the one to issue the order), Ron slipped his hands into
his robes and found his wand. He took it out and looked at it.
It was chipped, scratched, and in a filthy condition. He, unlike
rich-boy Harry, couldn't afford "Herbert's Handy Wand Polish" and had tried
to live without it. That just couldn't work for seven years, and
it was old to begin with. He could practically see the years of accumulated
dust all over it. He stood there thinking for a moment. He
could end this madness. Right here and now. The Owlery was
looking pretty reasonable. A good 5-6 stories to get a nice long
scream in before finally hitting the ground… But no, he didn't
think Hermione would appreciate her boyfriend killing himself. There
was just no honor in that. He looked once more at Harry, wishing
*_he_* could be the one down there, having all the fun. He hadn't
laughed in what? A week? And that was only because Draco had
cursed Harry's hand so that he kept hitting himself in the face, and he
soon had a big welt (which he still kept hitting). She would never
know if he killed Harry, especially if it looked like an accident.
*'That's right boy…she would never know…'* Woah, what the... Where
did _that_ come from? Ron took a quick look around himself, but he
was the only one there. Where did that voice come from? It
sounded like it came from inside his head… Then that though struck
him again, ringing in his brain like a chime. He could get Harry
back for everything, right now.
'A nice and simple solution,' he though to himself. Wait... was that _his_ though? Or someone else's? Ron didn't usually think about killing his friends... He felt himself stick his wand out the window and point it towards the lake. He didn't feel in control of his own body, but it didn't quite feel like someone had possessed it either *'Do it…' * his mind commanded. Well, you da' boss…
"Dissentorum!" Ron whispered. He watched as the ice cracked below Harry's feet. He saw Hermione screaming.…
"Oh my God… What have I done?"
He gasped, now in complete control of himself (he had never completely
lost it, but it sure felt that way), then took off running to the portrait
hole.
*-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-*
Harry was plunged into coldness. Utter, sense-depleting coldness--
like millions of knives stabbing the flesh. He tried to scream, but
his breath had been torn from his body by the shock. He struggled
to find the surface. Which way was up? His eyes weren't working properly…
He felt his limbs going numb, slowing their motion as he tried to save
himself. His lungs screamed for oxygen. He knew he must get
out soon, or else… His arms became entangled in his robes, his heavy skates
weighing him down. He was sinking. He could see freedom,
just above his head, but couldn't manage to pull himself up to it. This
was it. He was going to die. He felt his vision slipping away
from him, slowly darkening. 'Now I get to meet my parents...' he
though, and then blacked out.
*-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-*
Hehe, Cliffhanger...mwahah! Please Review! I live off reviews!
(yes, pathetic, I know!)