Ron browsed the shops in Diagon Alley anxiously, desperately searching for Harry's present. Today was the thirtieth, meaning he had to get it today, and send it as well. It wasn't that he'd forgotten Harry's birthday. He just...hadn't remembered.

So far, none of the shops had contained anything that Harry would like. There was the broomstick service kit in Quality Quidditch Supplies, but Hermione had gotten him one of those a couple of years ago. Harry had already read all the books on Quidditch that Flourish and Blotts had in stock.

That's where he was now, Flourish and Blotts, looking in disdain at their tiny section over Quidditch. Taking a step back to see if there was anything else, the youth stepped straight into another bookshelf. It swayed dangerously, threatening to spill its contents and Ron grabbed its supports, stopping the motion. Breathing a sigh of relief, he let go.

Only to have a book smack him right on the head, sending both him and it toppling to the ground. A hand reaches up to rub the sore spot while mahogany eyes focus on the book angrily. It had fallen open to the center, revealing a photo of a man with black hair and glasses smiling proudly in graduation robes.

Ron blinked. The man looked a lot like Harry. Forgetting the damage it had caused, he snatched it up, reading the caption beneath the photo.

'James Potter in his formal graduation photo.'

Slamming the book shut, Ron looked at the cover, his eyes feasting upon the title.

James and Lily Potter: The People Behind the Boy Who Lived.

A grin splits the youth's face and he scrambles to his feet. Taking his prize over to the cash register, he hands over the 3 sickles for it only a trifle reluctantly.

Ten minutes later Ron was strolling through the street, searching for the twins. Mrs. Weasley had made them come with him since she knew of the rise of the Dark Lord. She'd made them promise to stay with Ron, and true to their word, they'd stayed with Ron - for a whole two minutes. Then it was off to check out the joke shop.

It didn't bother their younger sibling though. For once, he had a chance to be alone, despite the hundreds of wizards that milled in the street. For once, no one wanted him for anything, and the youth basked in the feeling, drawing it in as one draws in the noonday sun.

Because of his state of indifference to the world, the boy hadn't watched where his wandering led him. A shiver of fear runs down his spine as his eyes catch hold of a sign swinging noisily in the breeze. Borgin and Burkes, it said.

This was Knockturn Alley.

As much as he'd always said he wanted to visit here, Ron found himself slowly backing away. Turning rapidly, the lanky form began making its way back to Diagon Alley.

His strides took him past the dark alley that separated the two worlds and such was his agitation that he never noticed the man materialize behind him. The man's silver eyes focused on the red locks and, raising a cedar wand in a silver hand, he muttered the word 'stupefy' under his breath.

Grabbing the inert body, he Apparated away, leaving the book, fallen from the boy's hands, lying open on the pavement.