Chapter 8

"He's doing paperwork. How boring," Ron muttered. They'd been watching Bill Weasley fill out parchment after parchment for fifteen minutes. "I thought he'd be doing something more exciting."

"It must be a slow day for him," Miss Nothing said lifting up a quill. Ron's eyes widened.

"How did you do that?"

"You mean lift the quill?" Ron nodded. "Lesson three, Nothing can touch objects, but only for a short time." As she spoke, the battered quill slipped through her fingers and clattered to the desk. Bill jerked. Looking up he noticed it and with a curious expression replaced it back in the inkwell.

"So we can touch objects?" Ron asked feeling a sudden surge of hope. Maybe he could write a note to Bill and tell him what had happened.

"You have to concentrate on the object really hard. It's not as if you can actually pick it up, but more like the force of your mind moves it." She explained demonstrating once more while Bill was looking away. "You want to try?"

"You bet!" Ron said eagerly as his brother got up and stretched out his shoulders. Bill headed for the door, but paused. His ears straining, he could've sworn he heard a noise. Shrugging his shoulders, he left.

Pondering what object Ron should try for, Miss Nothing scanned the desk quickly. Eyes lighting on a rubber stamp, she smiled. "This is small and easy to move." She said pointing to the stamp. "Best to start with an object more solid than a quill or a piece of parchment." He nodded.

"Okay, concentrate on picking up the stamp there." She pointed to the one and Ron moved past her to stand in front of it. Reaching across the desk he made to grab it, but his hand passed through. Frowning, he tried again with the same result.

"No, you need to focus on it. Imagine your hand picking it up. Picture it in your mind for a minute before trying again." Miss Nothing advised watching him grow frustrated as he missed it again.

Taking a deep breath, Ron did as he was told. Closing his eyes, he envisioned himself touching and lifting the stamp. After a few moments he opened them and once more reached for it. This time he managed to clamp a hold of the wooden object. Lifting it up he grinned.

"I did it!" He exclaimed just before it slipped and smacked onto the desk. "Oops."

"Don't worry. It was your first time. You'll get better with practice." She assured him as he picked up the stamp once more.

Abruptly Bill came back, forcing Ron to quickly set it down. Stepping out of the way so his brother didn't walk through him, he waited as Bill situated himself at the desk.

They watched him for a while longer, but realized that he wasn't going to do anything exciting.

Well, this is boring, Ron thought as his older brother scribbled out a few lines of print. Here I thought this would at least be interesting. He's not even talking to himself!

"Maybe we should go?" He suggested, coming to stand next to Miss Nothing. She silently agreed and the two vanished.

Reaching for another piece of parchment, Bill's elbow collided with the stamp, knocking off the table. It hit the stone floor with a solid 'thunk'.

"I could've sworn that was over by my Hieroglyphs book." He mumbled, snatching it up. He stared at it a moment before returning it to its place. "I must be going senile."

Later that day he received an owl from his mother telling of Ron's disappearance. For a moment he wondered if his little brother had found a way to Egypt. Had he somehow moved the quill and stamp as a way to get his attention or to say good-bye? Or maybe it was nothing at all? Just his imagination making connections where there weren't any.

----------------------------------------

The sun set on Ron's second day as Nothing and Harry couldn't sleep. He'd spent all day hoping that he'd turn a corner and find Ron standing there with an apologetic smile. Now he lay in bed wondering if he was ever going to see him again. Didn't Ron know that he was loved? Mrs. Weasley had certainly made it clear what she felt when she'd appeared with her husband that evening. They'd joined in the search, but hope was beginning to fade. Even with Molly's determination and Arthur's tenacity, Gryffindor was becoming an increasingly solemn place.

Dumbledore seemed especially anxious, even going as far as canceling classes the next day so the entire school could search. It was extremely important to him that Ron be found quickly. Having a student become Nothing looked bad for everyone. People would ask why the teachers hadn't seen this coming or why hadn't someone reached out to him.

"But it's not their fault," Harry whispered to the dark. "Ron, why did you have to do this? Can't you see what it's doing to your family and friends?" There was no one to answer him.

Rolling over, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he couldn't. After another twenty minutes he gave up and got up. Finding his invisibility cloak Harry went downstairs. Pulling the material over him, he slipped out past the Fat Lady and began to wander the halls. His feet eventually lead him to the library figuring that maybe Hermione had overlooked something.

Slipping inside, Harry kept his lantern low so he could douse it quickly if Filch or Mrs. Norris came around. Moving towards the history section, he tried to remember what books Hermione had said she'd looked in. Maybe for once he'd spot something she's missed.

For several minutes he thought he was alone, but then he noticed the soft glow of a lantern down one row and coming towards him. In a heartbeat he smothered his light and pressed himself into the bookcase.

"I can't believe this happened." Professor Flitwick said quietly to McGonagall as they moved slowly up the row.

"It's a tragedy," she agreed shaking her head. "I never would have thought he'd be one to give in."

"Dumbledore must be taking this hard. This is the second time this has happened while he's been here." Flitwick reflected, his voice somber. "But Mr. Weasley has a better chance of coming back."

"He does and hopefully will soon," McGonagall paused and looked up at the darkened ceiling. "Unlike the other poor soul. She'll probably never return to us." Flitwick bobbed his head as both he and McGonagall walked past Harry. He waited until he heard the door close before lighting his lantern.

Unlike the other poor soul, Harry repeated exiting the library. This happened before, to another student. That's why Dumbledore was so worried; he failed the last time. Harry carefully made his way back to Gryffindor. His head was spinning. The girl, they had said she, must've become Nothing before his first year or he would've heard of it. Maybe Fred or George knew something about it; he'd have to ask them in the morning.

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open and he hurried back to bed. No one had noticed his disappearance, which was good. Hiding his cloak once more, Harry knew he couldn't keep this information to himself. He'd have to tell Hermione about the other Nothing. Maybe if they could find her, they could locate Ron.