~*Midsummer's Night*~
Chapter 3: I'm Sorry
Author: Chibi Ron Weasley
Rating: PG
Memorandum: I'M SORRY! It is hell week at tech crew, and I am away from 6 in the morning to about 11 at night everyday. BE PATIENT!! ^__^ *is dead*
Yes....I got some nice reviews from people! Thank you very much! I like to try and do realistic scenes. I just put myself in Harry's or Ron's place, and write how I would feel or what I would do. P.S...I have a sprained middle finger, so it is very hard to type and flip people off now. So if I made alot of spelling errors or something please let me know. Sorry! :( (Blasts Tales of Destiny music in background....Weeee!!!)
I dont own Harry or the Weasleys, although I would love to dye my hair red and join their family!! ^___^
***********************************************************************
~I'm Sorry~
"Breakfast!" Mrs.Weasley screeched up the crooked stairway, "Breakfast!!" She took out her trusty sauce pan and began beating it with her wooden spoon as if it were a gong.
Ginny walked groggily into the kitchen, rubbing at her eyes. "Mmm...good morning, Mum, what did you make for--"
"BACON!!" screamed Fred. He and George came barreling down the stairs, crashing into each other and walls along the way, and nearly toppled Ginny over as they rounded into the kitchen.
"Wrong," said Mrs. Weasley matter of factly, "Ham and egg omelets. Honestly, can't you two contain yourselves? You act like a pair of loose cannons. I'd be suprised if Percy and Ron aren't awake by now." She glowered disapprovingly at the twins, her arms crossed, then walked back over to the table muttering something about loose cannons. Fred and George were still standing in the stairway grinning absentmindedly.
"Well go on now, take your seats!" Mrs. Weasley ordered.
Ginny sat in her seat politely on the other side of Mr. Weasley, who was staring with a furrowed brow at that mornings copy of The Daily Prophet.
"Ung...There they go again...lax security at the Ministry... lazy workers...honestly, if it's not Rita Skeeter, then it's someone else."
Fred and George came over and took their seats next to each other. "What's amatter, Dad? They're not busting on your department, are they?"
Mr. Weasley let out a disgruntled sigh. "Well, no, but still...I swear those people have got it in for us... Percy is going to have a fit when he sees this." He glanced up at the occupants of the table. "Where are Ron and Percy?"
"Beath meh!" George spluttered through a mouthful of eggs, accidentally spitting some in Ginny's face.
Mrs. Weasley tapped her spoon annoyedly on the counter top and sighed aggitatedly. Fred turned around and grinned at her as she went stomping up the stairs mumbling about lazy redhairs children.
She banged on the locked room of the door Percy was staying in for the weekend. "Percy!"
Immediately, a frowning redhaired head popped out of the door, looking harassed. "Honestly mother, I'll be down in a minute. I'm working on something very important for the Ministry." The hall light glinted importantly on his horn-rimmed glasses, and he popped back into his room, shutting his door.
"Oh, the nerve of that boy!" Mrs. Weasley huffed angrily, already starting toward her next destination. Ron's bedroom door was hanging half open. Mrs. Weasley bustled into his room. The bed was empty, and she spotted a mass of tangled orange bedsheets on the floor. Raising her eyebrow, she walked over, and whacked her wooden spoon smartly over it. "Ronald Weasley! Get up, you lazy thing!"
She was answered with an aggrivated groan as a disheveled shape emerged from the blazing orange blob. "Wha time s'it?" he mumbled, failing to stifle a huge yawn.
He scrathed his head as Mrs. Weasley told him, "It's time for breakfast. Yours is probably cold by now!" She bustled back out of the room and disappeared down the narrow stairway.
Ron blinked sleepily, getting up from the tangled mass of bedsheets on the floor and stretched, staring out the window at the Errol-and-Hedwig-free sky.
"Figures..." Ron scoffed to himself. He had sent Harry another letter the previous day, and Harry hadn't even bothered to send one back. Ron kicked his tangled bedsheets back onto his bed. He had been worried about about Harry. He was the one still trying to keep in contact with Harry, always checking the skies vigilantly every morning, and for what? This was a one-sided relationship, Ron thought, upset as he pulled on a shirt and headed for the door. The thought had briefly entered his mind that this may be another Dobby incedent...but Dobby was free now, it vouldn't possibly be that...
Pigwidgeon was hooting gleefully, zooming in laps around his cage. Ron picked up an owl treat, threw it angrily into the cage, stormed out of his bedroom door, and crashed face first into Percy.
"Watch where you're going, Ronald!" snapped Percy curtly. He took a brisk step backward and disapparated, leaving Ron stewing in the hallway, adding to his already bad mood. This was not starting out to be a very good day...
Percy apparated into the kitchen with an impressive pop. "Good morning everyone, sorry I'm late," he announced loudly, "but I was working on a VERY important report for the Ministry--"
"About how using cedar wands have been giving old wizards diarrhea," Fred interrupted, and Ginny and George bursted out with fits of poorly concealed giggles.
Percy went pink in the ears. "For your information, it most certainly was NOT." He pompously strode over to the table and took his seat.
Mr. Weasley lowered his morning paper. "Hello Percy. Where is Ron?"
Percy took a sip of coffee. "Stil upstairs, crashing around the hallway, I suppose. Had no right to take his bad mood out on me though--"
Loud stomps sounded from the staircase, followed by a yelp, and a procession of thuds, and Ron came tumbling down the staircase, landing flat on his face in the kitchen entrance.
"Let the trumpets sound! Ronald Weasley has made his grand entrance!" Fred smirked.
"Quite elegant Ron, really." George piped in.
"Oh, Shut up." Ron lifted his hand and made a very rude sign indeed at George. He then lifted himself up painfully with his elbows, and he trudged over to the breakfast table and threw himself into his chair violently, causing the rest of the table to stare at him.
"What?" he snapped. Everyone quickly looked away except for Mrs. Weasley. She noticed Ron was just sitting there glowering angrily at his plate.
"Something wrong with your breakfast dear?"
Ron blinked quickly, not even noticing he had been scowling at his plate. "No, it's fine." He scooped up a blob of it and shoveled it into his mouth. He didn't feel much like eating...he was still thinking about how Harry had been ignoring him...that jerk. Why should he be upset?
"Er..." Mr. Weasley began tentatively, "Ron?"
"WHAT!?" Ron accidentally shouted.
"Erm...would you like the salt?"
"I AM using the salt--"
He stared down at his omelete where he had been furiously shaking a pile of nutmeg. He blushed bright red, put down the nutmeg, and snatched the salt from his smiling father. He began shaking the salt on top, scowling angrily out the window. 'Stupid Harry...ha, I bet he thinks this is bothering me, doesn't he!?'
The Weasleys stared at Ron as he dumped the mustard, garlic powder, syrup and parmesan cheese onto the omelete, then absentmindedly began shoveling it into his mouth. ' Yeah right, I'm perfectly fine! If he doesn't want anything to do with me, then I don't want anything to do with--"
"Ron dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley asked suddenly as Ron was reaching for the soy sauce. Her voice had snapped him out of his reverie.
"I'm...FINE," he muttered sardonically, in a tone that decieved no one.
George smirked across the table. "I know whats bothering him..." He smiled coyly. "Harry hasn't written him back."
Ron gagged on a bit of his omelete disaster and his face visably reddened as he spoke. "No, I really don't care that he hasn't sent me anything."
"Yeah right," Fred muttered under his breath, and he and George held back a snigger.
"NO, really, I don't! It doesn't bother me..." Ron said, his grip around his fork tightening so much that his knuckles whitened, "If he's going to turn into a snob like this, then he's more than welcome to leave me alone! He can go off and die for all I care--!"
"RONALD WEASLEY, that is enough out of you!!"
Everyone stared shocked down the table at Mrs. Weasley. She was glaring at Ron with a stern expression. "I don't know whats gotten into you but--"
"Nothing! Just...leave me alone!"
"See? Told you it was bothering him or he wouldn't be acting like this."
"George, dont even--" Ron suddenly started choking on a humungous blob of omelete. Mr. Weasley quickly got up and whacked hum over the back with the palm of his hand.
"Ung..." Ron moaned, slumping down in his seat, now sedated. The rest of the family stared at him expectantly. Slowly, he rose his vision to them, and then back down to his plate where--
"UGH--!!" Ron uttered involuntarily as he caught sight of a half-eaten egg omelete covered in what looked like vomit and syrup.
George grinned again. "Yeah Ron, if you had been paying attention, you would have noticed that disgusting omelete you've been chowing down on!"
Ron twitched. That last comment wouldn't set off his trademark Weasley temper. He was still determind to conceal his anger. "W...what do you mean?" he began in a very non-convincing voice, "This is how I always like my eggs!"
"I thought you usually like them with ketchup--"
"Shut up, Dad."Ron muttered quickly and stuffed a mouthful of the ruined substance into his mouth, causing his eyes to water. "M...mmm....It's...goooood...." he managed, swallowing and straining a smile.
The rest of the table laughed.
"Ron dear, you're a horrible liar..."
Ron sighed in frustration and pushed the plate away. Mrs. Weasley kindly gave him a plate of blueberry waffles instead. "I think if you like syrup so much, it would be much better on these."
Ron blushed embarrassingly and accepted the kind offer. He sat in silence for much of the remaining breakfast eating his waffle, and as expected, the news headlines had caught Percy's eye, and he had gone on a tangent.
"This is an outrage!" Percy continued, after already ranting on for fifteen minutes, "These reporters have absolutely no concrete evidence against the Ministry, and i would like to see them ever get some!"
"Yes Percy, it is disgraceful that these reporters need to speak slander about the Department heads just to sell a paper when other headlines are scarce..." Mr. Weasley agreed calmly.
"Well, I think it's downright disgusting how they are always poking their noses in were they are not welcomed, and twisting the details to sell a paper...Ugh!! I can't stand it!" he said sanctimoniously, "If I ever got a hold of one of those--"
Percy's rant was rudely interupted by a loud squawk. Mrs. Weasley stood up from her seat. "Errol--??"
Ron's head snapped up, suddenly very alert. Errol came plummeting through the open window above the kitchen sink, soaked with rain water, and managed to successfully crash land on Ron's left over omelete, then rolled off onto Ron's lap.
"Er..." he mumbled, staring down at the tired old owl, who hooted feebely. He suddenly noticed Errol was clutching letter in his claws, and it was addressed to him. Ron quickly grabbed the letter and stuffed it in his pocket before anyone else saw it.
Mrs. Weasley sighed and shook her head. "Who sent Errol out in this storm? Honestly...it's been raining for almost two days now, haven't you got any sense?" She glared around the table sternly, eyeing each one of the flaming haired Weasleys with suspicion. Ron sat there trying to look as innocent as possible...he had sent Errol to Harry yesterday during the thunderstorm.
"Er...that would be me, I guess." Percy spoke up, alot less pompous than usual, "I had to send an owl to the Ministry early yesterday morning and Hermes was already out...but I didn't think it would take Errol a whole day to get back! It should have only taken him an hour at most..."
"Well, we all know Errol isn't...isn't as young as he used to be." Mrs. Weasley replied, glancing quickly at the feeble creature on her son's lap.
Ron sighed in relief. He must have sent errol back off when he had returned from Percy's trip. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice. The owl clambored off Ron's lap, and fluttered disjointedly up and perched on the sink. Ron stared down a the syrup, feathers and eggs all over his pajama pants and made a disgusted face, then remembered the letter he had hidden in his pocket.
Glancing up briefly to make sure no one was looking at him, which they weren't; they had resumed their previous conversation. Ron slowly pulled the letter out of his pocket, holding it carefully just below the table. 'To Ron' was scrawled across it in Harry's handwriting. He seemed to have written it quickly; Ron noticed that his writing was alot messier than usual.
Then Ron noticed something that made his heart jump. Flecks of brown-red substance were spattered across the front of the letter, and the one corner seemed completely covered in it. It was blood. His heart began to pound extremely fast and he was unable to take his wide eyes away from the stain. With numb fingers, he stuffed the letter back into his pocket. He couldn't open it here...he would panick...
"Ron, are you ok?" Ginny questioned.
Ron was staring downward, his face was pale, and he looked as if he'd just seen a ghost. "May I...please be excused?" He quickly pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. The puzzled expressions that were suddenly shot at him told him that he would need an explanation. "I need to...wash this stuff off my pants." With poorly feigned calmness, he ascended the staircase with an erratic rhythm in his step.
"I honestly don't know what has gotten into that boy today..." Mrs. Weasley said, shaking her head.
Ginny lowered her gaze to the table. 'He must really be upset about Harry..." She pulled a photo from her pocket and unfolded it. It was of the entire Gryffindor house posing for their class photo, only a square in the middle of it was missing. "He even cut Harry's picture out of his photo..."
*****
Out of earshot, Ron raced into his room and locked the door. The slowly, he pulled the bloodstained letter from his pocket again and this time opened it to see what was written inside.
Ron gulped as he read the words.
'Dear Ron,
I'm Sorry--'
The end of his sentance was cut off in an erratic quill scratch. Ron had begun to breath very hard, trying with all his might to stay calm. What was that supposed to mean? 'I'm sorry'...??
Suddenly, he felt icy fingers clutch around his heart, and a wave of panick spread over him. Something had happened to Harry...and...
'...he's more than welcome to leave me alone! He can go off and die for all I care--!!'
His words echoed hollowly inside his head, and his eyes filled with bitter tears. "I didn't mean it...Oh God, I didn't mean it..." he choked. His body began to tremble and he leaned against his bed post for support, still clutching the letter in his hand in a death grip.
Slowly, he slid down onto his bed, lying uncomfortably on his side, a decision forming hastily in his mind. Tonight. He would wait until everyone else was in bed, and then take the newly fixed flying Ford to Harry's. He needed to know what had happened, and if it was something bad he would do everything in his power to help. He wouldn't let anything more happen to Harry...
A hot tear rolled down his cheek as he opened his eyes again, his tremultuous gaze landing firmly on the top drawer of is nightstand. Reaching over, he pulled it open, and removed a small, neatly framed photograph. It was a piece obviously cut from a larger group photo. It was of Ron and Harry, standing closely beside each other, Harry's right hand protectively enclosed in Ron's left, and they were both smiling happily.
Ron hugged the picture dearly to his chest. "Harry...I'm sorry I ever doubted you... I'm so sorry Harry..."
Taking another deep breath to try and keep calm, he prayed with all his might that the knot in the pit of his stomach was not reserved for Harry, and set his alarm for 12 midnight, when we would awaken to set out on his mission.
~*Continued in Chapter 4*~
Chapter 3: I'm Sorry
Author: Chibi Ron Weasley
Rating: PG
Memorandum: I'M SORRY! It is hell week at tech crew, and I am away from 6 in the morning to about 11 at night everyday. BE PATIENT!! ^__^ *is dead*
Yes....I got some nice reviews from people! Thank you very much! I like to try and do realistic scenes. I just put myself in Harry's or Ron's place, and write how I would feel or what I would do. P.S...I have a sprained middle finger, so it is very hard to type and flip people off now. So if I made alot of spelling errors or something please let me know. Sorry! :( (Blasts Tales of Destiny music in background....Weeee!!!)
I dont own Harry or the Weasleys, although I would love to dye my hair red and join their family!! ^___^
***********************************************************************
~I'm Sorry~
"Breakfast!" Mrs.Weasley screeched up the crooked stairway, "Breakfast!!" She took out her trusty sauce pan and began beating it with her wooden spoon as if it were a gong.
Ginny walked groggily into the kitchen, rubbing at her eyes. "Mmm...good morning, Mum, what did you make for--"
"BACON!!" screamed Fred. He and George came barreling down the stairs, crashing into each other and walls along the way, and nearly toppled Ginny over as they rounded into the kitchen.
"Wrong," said Mrs. Weasley matter of factly, "Ham and egg omelets. Honestly, can't you two contain yourselves? You act like a pair of loose cannons. I'd be suprised if Percy and Ron aren't awake by now." She glowered disapprovingly at the twins, her arms crossed, then walked back over to the table muttering something about loose cannons. Fred and George were still standing in the stairway grinning absentmindedly.
"Well go on now, take your seats!" Mrs. Weasley ordered.
Ginny sat in her seat politely on the other side of Mr. Weasley, who was staring with a furrowed brow at that mornings copy of The Daily Prophet.
"Ung...There they go again...lax security at the Ministry... lazy workers...honestly, if it's not Rita Skeeter, then it's someone else."
Fred and George came over and took their seats next to each other. "What's amatter, Dad? They're not busting on your department, are they?"
Mr. Weasley let out a disgruntled sigh. "Well, no, but still...I swear those people have got it in for us... Percy is going to have a fit when he sees this." He glanced up at the occupants of the table. "Where are Ron and Percy?"
"Beath meh!" George spluttered through a mouthful of eggs, accidentally spitting some in Ginny's face.
Mrs. Weasley tapped her spoon annoyedly on the counter top and sighed aggitatedly. Fred turned around and grinned at her as she went stomping up the stairs mumbling about lazy redhairs children.
She banged on the locked room of the door Percy was staying in for the weekend. "Percy!"
Immediately, a frowning redhaired head popped out of the door, looking harassed. "Honestly mother, I'll be down in a minute. I'm working on something very important for the Ministry." The hall light glinted importantly on his horn-rimmed glasses, and he popped back into his room, shutting his door.
"Oh, the nerve of that boy!" Mrs. Weasley huffed angrily, already starting toward her next destination. Ron's bedroom door was hanging half open. Mrs. Weasley bustled into his room. The bed was empty, and she spotted a mass of tangled orange bedsheets on the floor. Raising her eyebrow, she walked over, and whacked her wooden spoon smartly over it. "Ronald Weasley! Get up, you lazy thing!"
She was answered with an aggrivated groan as a disheveled shape emerged from the blazing orange blob. "Wha time s'it?" he mumbled, failing to stifle a huge yawn.
He scrathed his head as Mrs. Weasley told him, "It's time for breakfast. Yours is probably cold by now!" She bustled back out of the room and disappeared down the narrow stairway.
Ron blinked sleepily, getting up from the tangled mass of bedsheets on the floor and stretched, staring out the window at the Errol-and-Hedwig-free sky.
"Figures..." Ron scoffed to himself. He had sent Harry another letter the previous day, and Harry hadn't even bothered to send one back. Ron kicked his tangled bedsheets back onto his bed. He had been worried about about Harry. He was the one still trying to keep in contact with Harry, always checking the skies vigilantly every morning, and for what? This was a one-sided relationship, Ron thought, upset as he pulled on a shirt and headed for the door. The thought had briefly entered his mind that this may be another Dobby incedent...but Dobby was free now, it vouldn't possibly be that...
Pigwidgeon was hooting gleefully, zooming in laps around his cage. Ron picked up an owl treat, threw it angrily into the cage, stormed out of his bedroom door, and crashed face first into Percy.
"Watch where you're going, Ronald!" snapped Percy curtly. He took a brisk step backward and disapparated, leaving Ron stewing in the hallway, adding to his already bad mood. This was not starting out to be a very good day...
Percy apparated into the kitchen with an impressive pop. "Good morning everyone, sorry I'm late," he announced loudly, "but I was working on a VERY important report for the Ministry--"
"About how using cedar wands have been giving old wizards diarrhea," Fred interrupted, and Ginny and George bursted out with fits of poorly concealed giggles.
Percy went pink in the ears. "For your information, it most certainly was NOT." He pompously strode over to the table and took his seat.
Mr. Weasley lowered his morning paper. "Hello Percy. Where is Ron?"
Percy took a sip of coffee. "Stil upstairs, crashing around the hallway, I suppose. Had no right to take his bad mood out on me though--"
Loud stomps sounded from the staircase, followed by a yelp, and a procession of thuds, and Ron came tumbling down the staircase, landing flat on his face in the kitchen entrance.
"Let the trumpets sound! Ronald Weasley has made his grand entrance!" Fred smirked.
"Quite elegant Ron, really." George piped in.
"Oh, Shut up." Ron lifted his hand and made a very rude sign indeed at George. He then lifted himself up painfully with his elbows, and he trudged over to the breakfast table and threw himself into his chair violently, causing the rest of the table to stare at him.
"What?" he snapped. Everyone quickly looked away except for Mrs. Weasley. She noticed Ron was just sitting there glowering angrily at his plate.
"Something wrong with your breakfast dear?"
Ron blinked quickly, not even noticing he had been scowling at his plate. "No, it's fine." He scooped up a blob of it and shoveled it into his mouth. He didn't feel much like eating...he was still thinking about how Harry had been ignoring him...that jerk. Why should he be upset?
"Er..." Mr. Weasley began tentatively, "Ron?"
"WHAT!?" Ron accidentally shouted.
"Erm...would you like the salt?"
"I AM using the salt--"
He stared down at his omelete where he had been furiously shaking a pile of nutmeg. He blushed bright red, put down the nutmeg, and snatched the salt from his smiling father. He began shaking the salt on top, scowling angrily out the window. 'Stupid Harry...ha, I bet he thinks this is bothering me, doesn't he!?'
The Weasleys stared at Ron as he dumped the mustard, garlic powder, syrup and parmesan cheese onto the omelete, then absentmindedly began shoveling it into his mouth. ' Yeah right, I'm perfectly fine! If he doesn't want anything to do with me, then I don't want anything to do with--"
"Ron dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley asked suddenly as Ron was reaching for the soy sauce. Her voice had snapped him out of his reverie.
"I'm...FINE," he muttered sardonically, in a tone that decieved no one.
George smirked across the table. "I know whats bothering him..." He smiled coyly. "Harry hasn't written him back."
Ron gagged on a bit of his omelete disaster and his face visably reddened as he spoke. "No, I really don't care that he hasn't sent me anything."
"Yeah right," Fred muttered under his breath, and he and George held back a snigger.
"NO, really, I don't! It doesn't bother me..." Ron said, his grip around his fork tightening so much that his knuckles whitened, "If he's going to turn into a snob like this, then he's more than welcome to leave me alone! He can go off and die for all I care--!"
"RONALD WEASLEY, that is enough out of you!!"
Everyone stared shocked down the table at Mrs. Weasley. She was glaring at Ron with a stern expression. "I don't know whats gotten into you but--"
"Nothing! Just...leave me alone!"
"See? Told you it was bothering him or he wouldn't be acting like this."
"George, dont even--" Ron suddenly started choking on a humungous blob of omelete. Mr. Weasley quickly got up and whacked hum over the back with the palm of his hand.
"Ung..." Ron moaned, slumping down in his seat, now sedated. The rest of the family stared at him expectantly. Slowly, he rose his vision to them, and then back down to his plate where--
"UGH--!!" Ron uttered involuntarily as he caught sight of a half-eaten egg omelete covered in what looked like vomit and syrup.
George grinned again. "Yeah Ron, if you had been paying attention, you would have noticed that disgusting omelete you've been chowing down on!"
Ron twitched. That last comment wouldn't set off his trademark Weasley temper. He was still determind to conceal his anger. "W...what do you mean?" he began in a very non-convincing voice, "This is how I always like my eggs!"
"I thought you usually like them with ketchup--"
"Shut up, Dad."Ron muttered quickly and stuffed a mouthful of the ruined substance into his mouth, causing his eyes to water. "M...mmm....It's...goooood...." he managed, swallowing and straining a smile.
The rest of the table laughed.
"Ron dear, you're a horrible liar..."
Ron sighed in frustration and pushed the plate away. Mrs. Weasley kindly gave him a plate of blueberry waffles instead. "I think if you like syrup so much, it would be much better on these."
Ron blushed embarrassingly and accepted the kind offer. He sat in silence for much of the remaining breakfast eating his waffle, and as expected, the news headlines had caught Percy's eye, and he had gone on a tangent.
"This is an outrage!" Percy continued, after already ranting on for fifteen minutes, "These reporters have absolutely no concrete evidence against the Ministry, and i would like to see them ever get some!"
"Yes Percy, it is disgraceful that these reporters need to speak slander about the Department heads just to sell a paper when other headlines are scarce..." Mr. Weasley agreed calmly.
"Well, I think it's downright disgusting how they are always poking their noses in were they are not welcomed, and twisting the details to sell a paper...Ugh!! I can't stand it!" he said sanctimoniously, "If I ever got a hold of one of those--"
Percy's rant was rudely interupted by a loud squawk. Mrs. Weasley stood up from her seat. "Errol--??"
Ron's head snapped up, suddenly very alert. Errol came plummeting through the open window above the kitchen sink, soaked with rain water, and managed to successfully crash land on Ron's left over omelete, then rolled off onto Ron's lap.
"Er..." he mumbled, staring down at the tired old owl, who hooted feebely. He suddenly noticed Errol was clutching letter in his claws, and it was addressed to him. Ron quickly grabbed the letter and stuffed it in his pocket before anyone else saw it.
Mrs. Weasley sighed and shook her head. "Who sent Errol out in this storm? Honestly...it's been raining for almost two days now, haven't you got any sense?" She glared around the table sternly, eyeing each one of the flaming haired Weasleys with suspicion. Ron sat there trying to look as innocent as possible...he had sent Errol to Harry yesterday during the thunderstorm.
"Er...that would be me, I guess." Percy spoke up, alot less pompous than usual, "I had to send an owl to the Ministry early yesterday morning and Hermes was already out...but I didn't think it would take Errol a whole day to get back! It should have only taken him an hour at most..."
"Well, we all know Errol isn't...isn't as young as he used to be." Mrs. Weasley replied, glancing quickly at the feeble creature on her son's lap.
Ron sighed in relief. He must have sent errol back off when he had returned from Percy's trip. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice. The owl clambored off Ron's lap, and fluttered disjointedly up and perched on the sink. Ron stared down a the syrup, feathers and eggs all over his pajama pants and made a disgusted face, then remembered the letter he had hidden in his pocket.
Glancing up briefly to make sure no one was looking at him, which they weren't; they had resumed their previous conversation. Ron slowly pulled the letter out of his pocket, holding it carefully just below the table. 'To Ron' was scrawled across it in Harry's handwriting. He seemed to have written it quickly; Ron noticed that his writing was alot messier than usual.
Then Ron noticed something that made his heart jump. Flecks of brown-red substance were spattered across the front of the letter, and the one corner seemed completely covered in it. It was blood. His heart began to pound extremely fast and he was unable to take his wide eyes away from the stain. With numb fingers, he stuffed the letter back into his pocket. He couldn't open it here...he would panick...
"Ron, are you ok?" Ginny questioned.
Ron was staring downward, his face was pale, and he looked as if he'd just seen a ghost. "May I...please be excused?" He quickly pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. The puzzled expressions that were suddenly shot at him told him that he would need an explanation. "I need to...wash this stuff off my pants." With poorly feigned calmness, he ascended the staircase with an erratic rhythm in his step.
"I honestly don't know what has gotten into that boy today..." Mrs. Weasley said, shaking her head.
Ginny lowered her gaze to the table. 'He must really be upset about Harry..." She pulled a photo from her pocket and unfolded it. It was of the entire Gryffindor house posing for their class photo, only a square in the middle of it was missing. "He even cut Harry's picture out of his photo..."
*****
Out of earshot, Ron raced into his room and locked the door. The slowly, he pulled the bloodstained letter from his pocket again and this time opened it to see what was written inside.
Ron gulped as he read the words.
'Dear Ron,
I'm Sorry--'
The end of his sentance was cut off in an erratic quill scratch. Ron had begun to breath very hard, trying with all his might to stay calm. What was that supposed to mean? 'I'm sorry'...??
Suddenly, he felt icy fingers clutch around his heart, and a wave of panick spread over him. Something had happened to Harry...and...
'...he's more than welcome to leave me alone! He can go off and die for all I care--!!'
His words echoed hollowly inside his head, and his eyes filled with bitter tears. "I didn't mean it...Oh God, I didn't mean it..." he choked. His body began to tremble and he leaned against his bed post for support, still clutching the letter in his hand in a death grip.
Slowly, he slid down onto his bed, lying uncomfortably on his side, a decision forming hastily in his mind. Tonight. He would wait until everyone else was in bed, and then take the newly fixed flying Ford to Harry's. He needed to know what had happened, and if it was something bad he would do everything in his power to help. He wouldn't let anything more happen to Harry...
A hot tear rolled down his cheek as he opened his eyes again, his tremultuous gaze landing firmly on the top drawer of is nightstand. Reaching over, he pulled it open, and removed a small, neatly framed photograph. It was a piece obviously cut from a larger group photo. It was of Ron and Harry, standing closely beside each other, Harry's right hand protectively enclosed in Ron's left, and they were both smiling happily.
Ron hugged the picture dearly to his chest. "Harry...I'm sorry I ever doubted you... I'm so sorry Harry..."
Taking another deep breath to try and keep calm, he prayed with all his might that the knot in the pit of his stomach was not reserved for Harry, and set his alarm for 12 midnight, when we would awaken to set out on his mission.
~*Continued in Chapter 4*~
