Chapter 4 -
He arrived in Gryffindor tower. Ron would try to avoid talking to Dumbuldore. He decided to take a walk. Of course he took the fire whiskey. He walked up to the seventh floor. Then he remembered the room of requirement. He knew he needed something but didn't know what it was. He walked back and forth three times. He couldn't put what he needed into real words, just a muddled feeling floating about in his skull. He sighed and sank back against the wall hopelessly. He sighed and hung his head before he remembered the glass bottle in his hand. He lifted his head and lifted the bottle. A mischievous smirk crossed his face. If only Fred and George could see him now. He ripped the top off the bottle and chucked it across the room. He took a deep breath and lifted the bottle to his mouth. He coughed the moment he felt the liquid burn his throat. He made a face and looked down at the bottle in his hand. He was a bit puzzled to find that drinking hurt, so after a couple of seconds of staring at the bottle, he took another swig. It didn't hurt quite so badly this time. As he kept drinking, he came to the realization that Firewhisky was really good! After he had drunken about three quarters of the bottle and was feeling a bit dizzy, he lowered the bottle and looked at it. Now he realized what he needed. What he needed was a release. Just then, in the wall across from him, a door appeared. He staggered to his feet and stepped inside. It was an empty pitch-black room ...
Then the light flicked on. It was a huge room. In one corner were tons of bottles of fire whiskey. Sweet Ron thought to himself. In the other corner was a desk. Ron walked over to it. There was a sign on it that said DESK RESERVED FOR RON WEASLEY. SONG WRITING ONLY. Song writing only? Well I guess that's cool, Ron thought to himself. In the middle of the room was a knife. What the helk do they want me to use this for? Ron asked himself.
He picked up the knife. Ron thought it was really heavy. It was so heavy that he dropped it. As the knife fell it sliced one of Ron's arms. Ron clutched his bleeding arm as he felt himself being pulled under. Oh, god, it hurt. He heard something as he hit the floor, so close, and yet so far. Like a nightmare that terrified you, and you swear happened, but your memories of it are so vague. It was a voice telling him something that he seemed to forget as he heard it. As pain clouded his senses and became more and more intense, it suddenly stopped. He suddenly realized he was on the floor. He was no longer in pain, but he felt weak. Finally he got up and decided to have a look at the stage...
Ron set the bottle of fire whiskey down. He climbed up the stage. There were five different microphones. Each of them had an instrument behind them. Where the lead singer should stand was a dark red guitar. It said Ron Weasley on it. Well it looks like I'm playing guitar then Ron thought. He went to go look at the other instruments. None of the other instruments had words on them except the drums. On the drum the words were PARANIOD IDIOTS. Paranoid Idiots Ron thought that is the name of my band. Ron got started writing. He realized it was sure hard to write a stupid song.
He arrived in Gryffindor tower. Ron would try to avoid talking to Dumbuldore. He decided to take a walk. Of course he took the fire whiskey. He walked up to the seventh floor. Then he remembered the room of requirement. He knew he needed something but didn't know what it was. He walked back and forth three times. He couldn't put what he needed into real words, just a muddled feeling floating about in his skull. He sighed and sank back against the wall hopelessly. He sighed and hung his head before he remembered the glass bottle in his hand. He lifted his head and lifted the bottle. A mischievous smirk crossed his face. If only Fred and George could see him now. He ripped the top off the bottle and chucked it across the room. He took a deep breath and lifted the bottle to his mouth. He coughed the moment he felt the liquid burn his throat. He made a face and looked down at the bottle in his hand. He was a bit puzzled to find that drinking hurt, so after a couple of seconds of staring at the bottle, he took another swig. It didn't hurt quite so badly this time. As he kept drinking, he came to the realization that Firewhisky was really good! After he had drunken about three quarters of the bottle and was feeling a bit dizzy, he lowered the bottle and looked at it. Now he realized what he needed. What he needed was a release. Just then, in the wall across from him, a door appeared. He staggered to his feet and stepped inside. It was an empty pitch-black room ...
Then the light flicked on. It was a huge room. In one corner were tons of bottles of fire whiskey. Sweet Ron thought to himself. In the other corner was a desk. Ron walked over to it. There was a sign on it that said DESK RESERVED FOR RON WEASLEY. SONG WRITING ONLY. Song writing only? Well I guess that's cool, Ron thought to himself. In the middle of the room was a knife. What the helk do they want me to use this for? Ron asked himself.
He picked up the knife. Ron thought it was really heavy. It was so heavy that he dropped it. As the knife fell it sliced one of Ron's arms. Ron clutched his bleeding arm as he felt himself being pulled under. Oh, god, it hurt. He heard something as he hit the floor, so close, and yet so far. Like a nightmare that terrified you, and you swear happened, but your memories of it are so vague. It was a voice telling him something that he seemed to forget as he heard it. As pain clouded his senses and became more and more intense, it suddenly stopped. He suddenly realized he was on the floor. He was no longer in pain, but he felt weak. Finally he got up and decided to have a look at the stage...
Ron set the bottle of fire whiskey down. He climbed up the stage. There were five different microphones. Each of them had an instrument behind them. Where the lead singer should stand was a dark red guitar. It said Ron Weasley on it. Well it looks like I'm playing guitar then Ron thought. He went to go look at the other instruments. None of the other instruments had words on them except the drums. On the drum the words were PARANIOD IDIOTS. Paranoid Idiots Ron thought that is the name of my band. Ron got started writing. He realized it was sure hard to write a stupid song.