Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me! (Obviously) All Rowling's.
Summary: Ron has this odd dream that seems to be more of a "Harry-dream" than a regular dream. Don't be put off because it mentions Ron, it's not all from his point of view - just the first chapter or so in order to establish the rising incident. The rest is all from Harry and the occasional Draco. I've never come up with a full plot before! So please, please support me by reviewing! I'm craving for 'em!
"Ron? Ron? RON!"
Ron yelped and bolted upright in his seat - only to be flung backwards from the halting of the Hogwart's train. The wind was blasting outside and the rain was pelting off the windows with great gusto. Massaging his head - which had hit off against the window - he looked up to find a concerned but slightly humored Harry and an overly concerned Hermione peering down at him.
"Er..hello Harry, Hermione," Ron greeted, disoriented.
"Are you alright, mate?" asked Harry. "You were, uh…well…."
"You looked like you had a seizure, Ron," finished Hermione, firmly. "Are you alri…oh, we better get off the train first. Can you get up?" Neville who had hopped into their compartment during Ron's fit, attempting to get a hold of Trevor, now stood in the corner staring at Ron as though he was inflicted with the plague.
"Oh, yeah, of course," Ron answered, trying to cover up for himself. The three of them gathered up their belongings, scraps of rubbish and got off the train with Neville walking timidly beside them, who then after awhile, walked off at the sight of his other fellow roommates, Seamus and Dean. Ron could vaguely remember his dream; it wasn't pleasant in the slightest. He had woken up abruptly, irritated and slightly bewildered. But, no, it was barking mad - he didn't feel that way about him and was determined to push it out of his mind.
"Ron!" said Hermione, grabbing his arm. "What is wrong with you! The carriages are over here!" Ron realized that, while deeply attempting to figure out his feelings and disorientation, he had been walking toward the entrance to Hogsmeade. Harry shook his head in wonderment of what was ailing Ron's mind. The three, hunched up against the wind and rain, trudged up to the closest carriage and piled in.
"I'm starving," Ron announced.
"Oh, good. Glad to see you back to normal," smirked Harry. He did, however attempt to press on with the matter.
"What was troubling you?" he added.
"Nothing in particular," Ron responded, too quickly. Harry gave him the eyebrow. "Well…ok, I thought, well, I dreamt that Scabbers - well, or Pettigrew, whatever - was sleeping on…on my pillow again. That's all. Honest," he ended rather lamely and grinning, hoping that Harry wouldn't push further. Harry knew better than to continue interrogating Ron. He, himself, had had moments like that, where he didn't want to share his feelings or his troubles with anyone. Hermione pressed on,
"But, Ron! It looked so serious! I'm sure there's something - "
" - Hermione, drop it. I'm sure he can handle it. I mean, come on, he's starving," Harry cut in before Hermione could start listing off possibilities and remedies for Ron's recent jerking episode. Ron caught Harry's eye and gave a grateful smile.
"OI, WEASEL KING!" yelled Malfoy. Ron, Harry and Hermione spun around to face Malfoy shoving his way through the people between them. "Is it true, what Longbottom said, that you were spazzing over a dream? Was it that ecstatic? Were you dreaming about a bit of gold that you found in the bin? Oh wait, your house is a bin, isn't it? But figures, you probably couldn't find a knut in that dumpster, that's why you spazzed, right? Disappointed because it was too good to be true?" he sneered. Crabbe and Goyle Guffawed thickly on either side of him. Harry and Hermione, by instinct, instantly grabbed a hold on each of Ron's arms, less he should get into trouble before the term had started.
"Shut your gob, Malfoy, or you'll be ferreting your way up the stairs," Harry snapped. Malfoy flushed.
"You watch your attitude, Potter. You might not live long enough to walk around with that fat head of yours," he retorted, leaving them glaring at his back with his cronies trailing behind him.
"Come on, let's get into the Great Hall." Hermione suggested. Really, thought Ron, his dream seemed more of a big deal to everyone else, big enough at least for Malfoy to laugh at. But to him, it didn't seem to be that serious, or that much to laugh at. After all, it was just a dream; but why was he so heated up about Malfoy's comments? Perhaps more so about his reaction to the dream, but he constantly made those snide remarks about his home anyway!
"Yeah, let's go - I wonder if they have some of that ham and chicken pie stuff tonight? I've been craving for it since we got on the train." The trio walked into the Great Hall and sat through the torturous long-wait of the sorting. ("Come on, come on, come on!" Ron whined.) Finally, mouth watering, glorious food magically appeared on all four long tables and the Great Hall buzzed with excited conversations between friends trying to catch up on each others' lives and the clattering of cutlery. When the last of the food was cleaned up and Dumbledore had bid his goodnight to all, Ron, Harry and Hermione, full to bursting, slowly but eventually snailed back to their warm and inviting common room. After saying their goodnights ("Ni..ni…nigh' Hermione," yawned Ron - and Harry) the boys climbed up the staircase, changed into their pajamas and without further warning, collapsed on their beds, content, full and asleep.
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It was dark. A few natural-rustling sounds could be heard, but the air had a taste of foreboding silence. Ron wandered around the dark forest. "Where am I?" he thought to himself. It was requiring a lot of effort from himself not to panic and just blindly run around in hopes of finding his way out. He wasn't even aware of how he got there in the first place. Then, quite suddenly, a huge grey rat shot out from the undergrowth and bounded its way across the ground. Now that he had looked in that general direction that the rat had disappeared into, he noticed a soft light; by instinct, it seemed to be wand-lit. Heart pounding, he clambered up and crept towards the source, tripping once in awhile - did he have his wand with him? He reached a bush that was almost as tall as he was, peeped through the sparse growth and saw - no, it couldn't possibly be! - Wormtail, his former pet rat, ("gag") a couple of Death Eaters, and unmistakably, You-Know-Who. Ron muffled himself from screaming out loud.
"Well? Wormtail?" You-Know-Who asked, expectantly.
"M..Master, the Potters have made me their secret ke..keeper! If you would like…I could…I could tell you where they are!" Wormtail squeaked excitedly.
"Good work, Wormtail. Now, where are they?" You-Know-Who asked impatiently.
"They…they reside at Godric's hollow - " SNAP. In shock of what he was listening to, Ron had accidentally stepped backwards, crunching several twigs and leaves.
"Who is there!" Demanded You-Know-Who. A red beam shot from the left of You-Know-Who's direction. Ron stumbled and ran.
"Get him!" Screamed You-Know-Who. "Bring him back to me alive!" The Death Eaters were - well - fast. Ron kept running, he rummaged for his wand, but it wasn't anywhere! Panicking, he ran as fast as he could, where to? He didn't know. He turned from his original course and threw himself behind a huge tree, willing himself not to breathe loudly. The Death Eaters looked around, shooting stunning spells here and there. The footsteps were approaching torturously, slowly. Suddenly, a black hooded figure swooped around and - he snorted, waking slightly, rolled over and fell back to sleep, dreaming of soaring high on a broom better than Harry's.
A/N: twiddles thumbs So…what think ye?
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