Harry Potter sat at the Gryffindor table, picking halfheartedly at his dinner. The Great Hall was not as chatty as it usually was; the Gryffindor table had an air of quiet wonder. Harry looked over, sullenly, at Hermione, who was making fork imprints in her mashed potatoes.
"Where do you think he is?" Hermione asked, setting aside her fork. Harry shrugged. The same question had been running through his mind for two months.
Ron Weasley, the youngest Weasley son, had disappeared without a trace over the summer, just a few days before school started. Ginny Weasley had refused to talk to anyone except for Harry and Hermione all year.
Harry himself was a nervous wreck. He'd been harboring a crush since fifth year, and now not even Dumbledore knew where Ron was, much less Harry.
The doors of the Great Hall burst open, an Harry looked up, instinctively. When he did so, his jaw dropped.
Ron was coming into the Great Hall.