The Blood of Ronald Weasley
This is the last day of my summer vacation. Earlier, my friend said to me, "This is the last day of break and I haven't done anything. It was wasted." And I replied, "Well, that is the best way to spend the last day of summer; wasted." Haha. How funny is that? Just thought I'd share it. N'ways, I am not JKR, if I was I wouldn't be going to school, I'd be working on book five…
CHAPTER EIGHT: PROBLEM NUMBER THREE
Neville spent the remainder of the week doing only two things: schoolwork and checking on the Polyjuice potion with his friends. He was never very good with potions, so he let Hermione handle the details, and only did what he asked her to do. That was the only reason he found himself in the Forbidden Forest at nine o'clock at night looking for fluxweed.
The boys had courteously volunteered to go and find some, but Hermione suspected the real reason was because they enjoyed sneaking out at night, or at least Harry and Ron did. She continued to worry about Neville, but put those thoughts aside when telling them exactly where she had found the fluxweed five years ago.
"If you walk about an eighth of a mile past Hagrid's hut, turn into the forest, follow the path heading southeast for ten minutes, and then turn right, you should come to a small clearing where the fluxweed grows. Just pick a lot and we'll use what we need. Got it?" Hermione asked.
The boys nodded. With a swish of the invisibility cloak, they were off.
The full moon loomed over the boys like a beacon, and they were silent, each preoccupied with his own thoughts.
They soon found themselves in front of Hagrid's cabin, and the first problem arose.
"How long is an eighth of a mile?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "When we get there, there should be a path, right? So we'll walk a ways and keep checking for a path into the forest."
"How deep d'you think we'll have to go?" Neville asked. It wasn't that he was afraid, he had come to terms with his fears years ago. He was seventeen, and he told himself that it was irrational to be afraid of a bunch of trees.
"I don't know," Harry answered.
They remained silent as they walked along the edge of the wood, each scanning for a path. After a few minutes, Ron exclaimed, "That must be it! See it, right there!"
Harry nodded. "We can leave the cloak here and pick it up on the way back. We won't need it in the forest."
The three cautiously entered the path, but met with no obstacles. Ron never remembered Hermione mentioning she had to go in the forest by herself to get one of the ingredients. What a girl, he thought smiling.
"Does this go southeast?" Neville asked quietly. And so arose the second problem of the evening.
"Good point." Harry got out his wand and remembered a spell from his fourth year. "Point me."
The wand spun in his palm and indicated that they were headed in the right direction.
"Someone want to time ten minutes?" Ron asked. "I haven't got a watch on."
"I do," Harry said checking it. It was nine seventeen.
A cold wind was whistling through the trees, and there was the occasional crunch, crunch from someone stepping on a twig, but other than that, it was silent.
Harry never considered himself scared easily, but this night he found himself listening intently for anything out of the ordinary. Get a grip, Potter, he told himself. The boogey man isn't going to jump out and hurt you.
At nine twenty seven, they came across a split in the path. They took the right turn and sure enough, by the glow of the moon, they saw a clearing where fluxweed grew generously.
"Just fill your pockets, mates. Then we can get out of here!" Ron shuddered, but neither Harry nor Neville saw him in the dim light.
They did just that, and when they came out of the forest, Harry picked up the cloak and put it in his pocket. They were drunk with joy to have completed their task, even though they had done things ten times scarier than picking plants at night.
"Those bloody recruits won't know what hit 'em when we turn them in. Maybe Dumbledore will realize Malfoy's in on it too and we can lock that bast—I mean, we can lock him up as well," Ron said.
"Hermione's not around to chastise you about your language, mate." Harry laughed. "You're smitten pal, face it. When a bloke stops his swearing, that's it, he's gone."
Ron blushed slightly but laughed. Then his face became serious. "And have you stopped swearing, Harry?"
Neville looked from Harry to Ron, and he knew they weren't talking about swearing anymore.
Harry felt he was between a rock and a hard place. If he said no, then Ron would be angry because he would just be using his sister. But if he said yes, he'd be angry because…well, because his best friend was in love with his sister. And if he said he didn't know, it would be worse than saying no. Ugh, what was he going to say?
Harry cleared his throat. "I…I think I have, Ron." He thought it best to be honest; with his friend and with himself. He hadn't told Ginny that he loved her yet. He wanted to wait and really make sure because she was special to him. He decided maybe it was time to say those three little words.
The conversation didn't go any further, however, because the third, and most terrible, problem of the night suddenly came around the corner. Professor McGonagall. Obviously, they weren't being quiet or wearing the cloak.
Neville groaned, and all the blood drained from Ron's face. McGonagall still inspired a certain fear in all the students, first or seventh year.
"Weasley, Longbottom, Potter. My office, NOW."
Harry swallowed. This means detention, he thought.
"I have caught you students out of bed more times than any other. Except for perhaps Fred and George Weasley. I see you have taken up where they left off, Mr. Weasley." Her nostrils falred and the boy cringed. "Detention. Tomorrow night, eight o'clock, Transfiguration classroom. Now GO TO BED!"
The boys made their way up to Gryffindor tower in silence.
"She could have at least let us explain. Bet we could've gotten out of detention if we did," Ron muttered.
"Yeah, but I think it's best we didn't mention it. It might be dangerous if too many people know what we're doing," Harry said. Then he gave the Fat Lady the password and they climbed through the portrait hole.
Neville nodded. "Snape knows, isn't that enough?"
"Hey, speaking of Snape, you know what that bloke is doing these days?" Ron grinned mischievously.
Harry laughed. "He's seeing Professor Peverell. Ginny and I interrupted their date last night when we went to get the boomslang skin and bicorn horn."
"And Hermione and I heard them flirting in the defense against the dark arts classroom later on! Guess Snape's having a new luck with the ladies."
"Hey, every dog has his day," Neville said.
"Yeah," Ron said sleepily, "but most dogs are nicer looking than Snape."
Sorry that chapter was so short. I'll try to keep up, but school kind of gets in the way! Make sure you review, you HP fans out there…You know you are spending too much time thinking about HP when you're outside at night and the flashlight doesn't work and you mutter, "Lumos" and are surprised when it doesn't work. Or, when you come across a locked door and yell, "Alohamora!" and wonder why it didn't unlock. (Uh, I've never done that…J )