"You're joking."
"You really didn't find anything?"
"No, he's not joking."
"We were there until six in the morning. I found a book called A History On Cybele. I found nothing on the Explicatrix but if Professor Binns ever gives us a paper to write on her, I'll get an A."
It was the next morning and Harry had tapped both Ron and Hermione on the shoulder and they snuck out of the Lodi Dining Hall down to the common room, out of Whitewonder Tower and into the Taconic Intersect, sitting on a three seat couch where no one would interrupt them.
"I don't believe it!" Hermione shrieked indignantly. "The --"
"If you're going to say the library here has never failed you, Hermione," Ron began slowly before she'd gotten another word out, "please don't, because I think I'll laugh very hard."
Harry was sniggering silently while Hermione tried to retain her dignity.
"I think we're going to have to look with you," she said. "Or maybe we can ask one of the teachers here? Maybe Professor Hayden knows something about it!"
"Maybe we can bring it up when he goes on in today's speech about what they know about the ancients?" suggested Ron.
"Where is that?" asked Harry at once. "That I want to see, seeing as how," he continued, his voice much quieter and feeling a certain emptiness, "you know, I'm an ancient and everything..."
Hermione seemed to have spotted that Harry's voice had slid into silence because no one seemed to know much about ancients except maybe, of course, Harry's parents because she said hastily, "He gave us a small taste of it -- they found this timeline of a few ancients' lives and it shows people dying and then showing up again some fifty years later. They think someone was playing with what had been written down to prevent someone down the line from finding Raides. You know, to set them on a wrong path so they'd be looking for her somewhere else. And it worked, didn't it? No one ever found her until --" But Hermione had broken off too. It was just as big a mystery to Professor Hayden, Harry surmised, as it was to Harry how he had found the Book of Memories.
"Tonight at three, halfway between lunch and dinner," Ron injected also quite hastily. "He's taking questions after the talk. It's on the second auditorium on the third floor of Torr Lounge. Take a left at that stone troll that reminds you of Goyle."
"That's probably what that book that Professor Dumbledore told me about was trying to do," Harry remembered suddenly. "Remember? It suggested Cybele came back to life?"
"Sounds like it," said Hermione pensievely. "They sure went through a whole lot of trouble to prevent anyone from finding her."
Harry chanced a glance at Raides. She was sitting nonchalant next to him, looking quite bored. He grinned at her.
"You must be capable of something really powerful, there, Raides," he said to her.
She grinned back.
In the time before Professor Hayden's speech in Torr Lounge, Harry wandered unseen around the library some more. He spotted the student who so closely resembled a vampire holding what looked horribly like a vial of blood. At lunch, he spotted Ron in the first floor of the library (probably looking for Harry) and poked him in the back and whispered, "Hungry?" They had lunch together in the Lodi Dining Hall with Hermione, carefully avoiding anyone else. Ginny was most upset when Ron told her to "clear off."
As three o'clock drew near, there was a large number of students gathering in the huge common room on the second floor of Torr Lounge. Dean Thomas was talking animatedly to Seamus Finnigan but Harry couldn't make a word out owing to the drawling voice of Malfoy blocking it.
"You know how all the ancients turned to Dark wizards," Harry heard him saying matter-of-factly ("You and the rest of the world," Harry thought bitterly). Hermione's head snapped in Malfoy's direction at these words, a cold look coming over her face. "It's that staff of his. Yeah, Granger?" he said, spotting Hermione giving him a look of deepest loathing. "Going to say something about Potter? Because he is a Dark wizard, turned into one just like the rest of his kind. And I don't care," he drawled on loudly and now blocking out Hermione's words which Harry strongly suspected were insults, "because that staff did it."
"Can I please just bite his leg off?" asked Raides pleadingly in Harry's head. "No one will ever know!"
Harry didn't respond, mostly because, while Hermione's words weren't getting her point across, her hand across Malfoy's face sure did. There was a hushed silence where everyone stared at the pair of them as Malfoy drew out his wand from inside his robes and said, "Come on, you filthy Mudblood!" He waved his wand threateningly at her. "What, is Potter here? Invisible?"
"No," said Hermione nervously and Harry saw Ron's eyes dart to where he knew Harry had been last but Harry had since moved.
Harry didn't have to say a word to Raides; she leapt lightly into the air and landed on soundlessly on Harry's outstretched hand as the great staff, just to be ready, just in case Malfoy actually tried to curse her. Though he had no idea what he'd be able to do that would not attract a lot of unwanted attention. What happened next left Harry feeling dazed.
"Avada Kedavra!" were the words Harry swore escaped Malfoy's mouth as a powerful burst of green light escaped Malfoy's wand.
At the same time, Harry had stupidly pointed Raides at Hermione just as she had pulled out her own wand to curse Malfoy. As a white light escaped the staff's tip, vanishing instantly, the same white light escaped Hermione's wand that didn't vanish. The light from her wand and the light from Malfoy's connected in midair and blew up, creating a huge burst of bright, green light. But that wasn't all. There was such a powerful explosion that everyone in the common room, including Harry and Raides, was thrown away from it so hard that they hit the wall behind them with a crack.
Hermione was staring at her wand with Ron while Harry was staring at Malfoy's broken one.
"A simple Banishment Charm connecting with a Deflector," Harry heard someone mutter as everyone got to their feet. "You'd think it'd just fizzle..."
People were rubbing their backs and making sure their wrists were still working as quite a few of them had used their hands to break their crash. But far removed from making sure his back hadn't broken from being slammed into a wall (it was stinging quite a bit), Harry was far more interested in what he had seen and heard. He knew, as much as Malfoy hated Hermione, he wouldn't try to kill her as that would quickly land him a cell in Azkaban for life.
Something of the sort had happened before when Voldemort had been attempting a permanent Imperius upon Harry from the Mark of Ancients. But how? Harry thought furiously, there is no Mark of Ancients to control this time! Harry had thought he had seen someone cast that same curse but the light had been red, not the proper color which was green. But now he had seen the proper color and heard the words... but still, would Malfoy... ?
Harry found that he didn't want any explanations. He simply wanted to put it out of his mind, vaguely recalling some advice he had once used when he found himself in a right rut. Part of him wanted to grab Ron and Hermione this second and tell them what had happened. It seemed that they thought Hermione had done that and knowing very well that Hermione might be capable of something of the sort, he might very well get away with it. Another part of him didn't want to but no sooner had he made up his mind then Professor McGonagall bursted in. She looked livid, as her eyes, presently narrowed into slits of rage, surveyed the scene. Students were still getting to their feet. More than one wand had broken as some took theirs out.
"Someone -- explain!" she demanded.
"Please, professor. My wand -- it did something funny," said Hermione and Harry felt very guilty for letting her go on -- but there was nothing he could do, Hermione might well give him away if he tried to hint to her it was him. She shot a nasty look at Malfoy then went on. "Malfoy called me a -- a -- and then he tried to curse me and I merely pulled my wand out to stop him..."
"It was a Banishment Charm and Granger had tried a Deflector Charm," explained the student who had spoken before.
"And, I dare ask, what was that extremely loud bang I heard?" asked Professor McGonagall, still furious. "How did that happen, Mr. Jayden, is it?"
"The two spells collided," Jayden said, "and created a huge explosion."
Professor McGonagall's rage now broke over Hermione.
"Miss Granger!" she bellowed like an angry dinosaur, her eyes roving over the broken lamps powered by candles whose flames were quickly extinguished by students, cracked chairs and paintings that had fallen off the walls. "I hardly expected this!"
"Professor --" Hermione tried to cut in, her own eyes casting a horrified look at a chair that had been nearly consumed in a fire.
"And of all Gryffindors, you!" Professor McGonagall continued, drowning out Hermione's words, too (though Harry didn't think they were insults nor would she slap a teacher). "Detention, Miss Granger! You are also forbidden to go to the speech at three! And I shall be fetching Professor Snape to deal with you, Mr. Malfoy," she added scathingly to him and it looked like she wished him nothing but ill.
Harry stood there, dumbstruck, while Professor McGonagall cast one last dark look over Hermione, glass shards that had fallen from the once-extravagant chandelier overhead, and Malfoy. Hermione was looking violated to say the least; everyone was staring at her. And finally, Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and left, beckoning Hermione to follow her.
There was simply no question. Harry couldn't possibly let her think her wand had done that, though he had a pretty good feeling she knew that it wasn't just her wand. Ron, thankfully, seemed to know what Harry was thinking because he casually walked out after Professor McGonagall, looking pointedly around for Harry, who followed him. He headed straight for Lodi Hall, the top floor where Harry had been sleeping.
"Okay, Harry," he said flatly once they'd reached the quiet of the Lodi Guest Dormitory, waiting for an explanation, one impatient hand on each of his hips, "what happened."
"I just tried to stop Malfoy cursing her!" explained Harry indignantly, sitting on his usual bed and making a depression on it.
Ron immediately looked straight at him though he couldn't see him. He was spinning around nervously again like he had been doing when Harry broke the news that he could possess people, looking just as nervous. Truthfully, Harry had no idea what happened. And more truthfully, he didn't want to make Ron panic any more by telling him he had heard Malfoy saying the words to the Killing Curse, though he knew it wasn't real... It was just like... There was no need to, was there? This time around he knew it wasn't real so he didn't have to enter a panic that it was... right?
"It's like it's coming back," Harry muttered miserably to himself. "If it's not already back..."
"What's coming back?" Ron snapped, taking a hand off his hip and pressing two fingers hard to his forehead in frustration. "You blew up the common room, Harry! What happened!" Ron repeated loudly.
"But it -- it can't have," Harry went on talking to himself, ignoring Ron.
It couldn't be coming back, could it? Harry thought to himself.
"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Ron demanded.
"The Mark of Ancients --"
"Oh not the stupid Nota Vetustum again," Ron interrupted impatiently. "I thought we all agreed it was impossible?"
"We never actually agreed on anything," said Harry truthfully and quietly as if he didn't want Ron to hear.
"It's -- not!" said Ron very loudly as if there was nothing more to discuss. "Try to make your skin glitter or glow! We were there when Dumbledore and everyone removed it from you! There's just no chance!"
"Then explain the unnerving -- to say the very least -- vision I had when Lucius Malfoy died!" Harry shouted angrily. "That wasn't made by no Dark magic! And don't you dare ask me why they killed Lucius! But they did the world a favor, let me tell you, that's for sure --"
"Yes, one less Death Eater that's going to try to kill you, very good, Harry," said Ron in a flat tone that was dripping from every square inch with sarcasm. "It's no surprise that Malfoy thinks you killed his dad, is it? Hermione's got detention now because of you and she can't go to the speech. You're certainly not going to get all the questions you want answered without her there unless you can think of everything she has!"
"What're you yelling at me for?"
"Oh, this is nothing to what Hermione's probably going to say --" Ron let Harry know in a bossy voice.
"How was I supposed to know --"
"-- to you when she gets out of detention --"
"-- that was going to happen!"
"-- because she's been going on and on about it for days!"
They stopped yelling at each other for a bit which gave Harry an idea... however drastic...
"Maybe I could use Foresight," he suggested but Ron put his foot down -- right on Harry's who jumped up, knocking Ron down.
"Don't you think that Raides has done enough damage?" Ron declared while Harry grabbed Ron's hand to pull him up but Ron refused it. He got up by himself.
"I just thought --"
"Don't -- think -- anything," said Ron coldly. "You blew apart the common room and act like nothing happened --"
"What d'you mean 'like nothing happened?' I just thought that --"
"Though what?" said Ron, his voice now icy. "Use Foresight, destroy Dumbledore's trust and --"
"WHAT THE HELL D'YOU WANT ME TO DO?" Harry bellowed.
"Nothing," said Ron simply and he walked out, leaving Harry to scratch his head in confusion, staring blankly where Ron had stepped on his foot.
Harry was feeling extremely irritable after that. He had caught up with Ron and convinced him to ask questions if Harry whispered them in his ear but it wasn't without some more angry voices and another sore foot. Hermione's detention was going to be to tend to the Murtlaps that were used for the Graduate students. Ron explained to Harry, very stiffly, that eating the growth on their backs that so closely resembled a sea anemone it gives a resistance to curses and jinxes. But Hermione had eaten too much in her own demonstration and had come to Torr Lounge just before the speech with hair in her ears that clashed horribly with the rest of herself -- it was purple.
Ron had told Harry this because Hermione flat out refused to speak to Harry, showing him her back and her folded arms.
"Oh come on, Hermione," said Harry desperately who had somehow convinced Ron and her to go up to a deserted floor of Torr Lounge. "Say something!"
Silence.
"Please?"
Still more silence.
"Fine. Forget it. And clip the disgusting hair out of your ears because it's really gross."
At once, Hermione seized Ron's hand, made a noise in the back of her throat and stormed downstairs, Ron nearly tripping on his robes as she pulled him. Harry didn't bother following. He had done something of the sort before without realizing it, making both Ron and Hermione distance themselves from him. Harry didn't like it then and he didn't like it now nor did he like the idea that now he had no one to talk to except a ten thousand year old ancient staff that was leaving him with a less than guiltless feeling every time he looked at her. He held out his hand, she leapt into it and at once, she fell lifeless.
Three o'clock had finally come. Hermione followed Professor McGonagall towards the Moonstone Complex to deal with the Murtlaps and Harry silently followed Ron though he had a small urge to step on his foot as he had done to Harry twice now.
The auditorium that Professor Hayden and the Graduate student, Mark Jayden (Harry thought it odd that their names were so similar), was absolutely tremendous. Harry thought it could fit one entire floor of Hogwarts from end to end. He supposed it had been enlarged by magic because none of the other floors were so grandeur in size.
Strangely, the speech seemed to put everyone to sleep. Neville had drooled on his robes, Dean Thomas was looking like he always did in Professor Binns' class and Harry felt like he was back in Divination when Professor Hayden had reached the bit about the ancients. Harry was glad no one could see his extremely red face and was finally able to sit down when a very bored-looking student from Slytherin got up and left.
When the proper time had come, he poked Ron harder than he needed to and hissed, "Ask him if he knows anything about the Explicatrix!"
Professor Hayden's face fell. He had just been talking about some of Cybele's lesser-known exploits.
"Mr. Weasley, is it?" he said, sizing Ron up and Harry was hoping he was going to try his best to answer, though it looked like he didn't have a clue. Ron nodded. "You're one of Harry's best friends, yes?" Ron's upper lip curled but Professor Hayden took this as a yes, choosing wisely, in Harry's opinion, to ignore the angry look on Ron's face. "The Explicatrix is a mystery to many of us. Just like the staff itself, no one seems to be able to figure out what it does. I believe it fell in the hands of your school's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore."
Harry crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping that he didn't somehow know that it was his Triwizard clue. Or that Dumbledore didn't care. In either case, Professor Hayden continued.
"We have strong reason to believe, with Dumbledore's help, that is what we call a shape-intention changer. That is, when someone holds it who is an ancient, it will change size and shape. The shape, we know, is according to what House the wielder would have been sorted into at your school. We also know that the same magic that went into your school's Sorting Hat -- which is another mystery, I assure you -- is the same magic that went into the Explicatrix, Raides and all of Cybele's other artifacts."
Other artifacts? thought Harry curiously. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to run into them.
"She wanted to keep tabs on who used her things. Very protective of anything she'd invented, she was. What with the magic Raides is capable of being the reason she was lost for ten thousand odd years, it's no surprise," Professor Hayden commented grimly, pacing across the stage. "The Explicatrix looks like a crystal ball. A light blue transparent one with silver smoke inside of it. Dumbledore, and a few of my contacts at the West World of Warlocks Wizarding Foundation believe one of Cybele's other creations, the Book of Memories --" Harry's jaw dropped "-- has something to say on the subject."
So the book was one of Cybele's creations, Harry thought, his mouth slowly closing. So then, was it made as a guide to all of her inventions? What else could it tell him? Why had Peter Pettigrew been walking around with it so much last year (before his untimely death)? Why did it cause Harry to experience... that.
"The only possible hint," Professor Hayden continued, "as to what it does is this. The name, Explicatrix, is Latin. It means 'explanation.' The inscription on the Book, Libri Intus Memoriae, means simply 'Book of Memories.' While we're not quite sure why she named the book that, we believe the Explicatrix to be some sort of ancient, highly advanced crystal ball but we're no closer to figuring out what it does as we are of killing You-Know-Who."
That was the last sensible piece of information Professor Hayden managed to get out and even that did not help much. Harry had treated the Explicatrix like a crystal ball that very night to no avail. He tried to get Hermione's help but she flat out refused to even acknowledge someone poking her on the shoulder.
"The wind must be very strong!" she said in a strange voice the fourth time Harry tried to get her attention and just like every other time, she grabbed Ron's hand and stalked off. Harry was not pleased to see that Ron made no attempt to stop her.
Harry ate dinner alone that night for Ron and Hermione, as he expected (though he hoped it wasn't going to be), didn't want to talk with him then, either. Bored, his heart sinking over worry about the Explicatrix being an impossible puzzle to solve (if Dumbledore can't crack it, what in the world makes them think I can, he thought irritably), he resigned to the worst: he would spend every night in the Camden Library until he found something.
The vampire-like student was back that very night, a bag full of books slung over his shoulder much like how Harry was used to seeing Hermione. It wasn't the presence of the student that scared Harry that night. For a few minutes, he wanted to come right out and say he was at Laurence Patrick Hayden's. And that no one had died. And that no one was any worse off with him there.
The thought of what Malfoy would say stopped him. Harry pictured the look of savage triumph all over his pale, pointed face, thinking that Harry had snuck out of Hogwarts to kill someone else. Harry felt he could just point out that, in fact, no one had died yet but knew it wouldn't be enough.
Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to him, he couldn't talk to anyone but Raides and he didn't feel like going back to Hogwarts. Add in the knowledge that half of the wizarding world considered him a murderer... But then he stopped dead in his thoughts because he heard a voice say "Hello?"
At first, Harry acted like he hadn't heard anything.
"Harry, you aren't deaf, are you?" the voice said, sounding like it was coming from a ninety year old man rather than someone that looked no older than thirteen -- despite his ghostly white face.
Harry turned slowly around.
"You can -- can see me?" he said slowly, thinking he should just use a Memory Charm now and Disapparate to Hogwarts.
"I'm not going to tell anyone," the student replied, closing his eyes lazily and shaking his head, a smile crossing his face in a fashion that made Harry uncomfortable. "I've known you were here since you arrived. And stop looking at me like I'm going to suck your blood. I may be a vampire, but... Anyway, I just wanted to know if you knew anything about these damned Blast-Ended Skrewts?" he asked, pointing at a sheet of paper in his hands which had some long fingernails.
Harry enjoyed a fifteen minute conversation going over all of the finer points of how to avoid getting stung, bitten or scorched while handling them. When the conversation had finished, Liam, Harry learned his name was, had some advice to offer on making Ron and Hermione speak to him again.
"For Christ's sake, Harry," he had said as if it was painfully obvious while Harry nervously eyed the two fangs, "apologize."
Harry wanted them to apologize, not the other way around.
All in all, he supposed he could trust Liam. Liam certainly hadn't done anything to cause any alarm. After all, he had known Harry was there since he first got there...
Harry walked off and Liam went back to doing whatever he was doing. There was no ignoring the increased guilt he had that night as an irritable Ron brought up him to the Lodi Guest Dormitory. Not a word was spoken between them and it was perhaps this that made a sizeable amount dead weight seem to Apparate inside of Harry's stomach over worry, worry about getting Ron to talk to him again, getting Hermione to even look at him and the unsolvable clue that was the Explicatrix.
"Thanks," said Harry once they had reached the top of the tower.
Ron merely grunted to show he had heard -- though Harry had the distinct impression he didn't care for the thanks -- and shuffled off. Probably wanting to get back to Hermione as quickly as possible, thought Harry. They've been paying much more attention to each other and have sort of ignored me...
It was true. Indeed, many opportunities had been passed up by Ron and Hermione to safely speak to Harry. Should I be paying more attention to Cho? he thought quickly, the feeling exacerbated by the heavy dead weight swirling inside of him. It swirled and swirled, making him feel slightly nauseous but, at least, he never exactly recalled Cho giving any signs of him having neglected her. Slightly uplifting was knowing that his clone at Hogwarts was doing exactly what he would do which would probably be sending Cho a letter right about now.
Now was the time to shelve his pride and face -- or at least try to use a Reduction Charm on -- the weight and... apologize.
The next morning was a very irritable one for Harry. He kept walking up to Ron and Hermione, opening his mouth to apologize, felt something blocking his throat and walked away, glad they couldn't see his repeated failed attempts. Prodding them in the back proved to have no effect either.
"Did you feel something?" said Hermione in a fakely curious voice the third time Harry tried this. She grabbed Ron's hand and walked away.
At long last, the time seemed to come when Ginny and Parvati had left their table in the Lodi Dining Hall for lunch.
"See you later," said Ginny. "Oh and Mom's going to go with me to North Palisades Tower. Tomorrow, too."
"What for?" asked Ron, putting his cup up to his lips to drink the water. "Dad's going to the Bayonne Complex with me, today and tomorrow, too."
Before Ginny could answer, Mrs. Weasley appeared, took her daughter gingerly by the hand, waved at Hermione and, looking thoroughly excited about something, left.
"Let's just hope they don't run into Liam!" said Hermione which made Ron laugh, some water dribbling down his mouth. He hastily put it down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Honestly, why would they let a vampire in, though? How old is he, fourteen?"
"Fourteen hundred, more like," Ron chuckled.
Now was the time to do it; they both had food in their mouth.
"Ron, Hermione --" Harry began sulkily, a dull expression on his face while standing behind Ron, but --
"What?" Hermione snapped hotly.
Ron looked up from his plate, again forgetting that he couldn't see Harry as his head swiveled around. This time, Harry had the distinct impression Ron was interested in what Harry had to say for himself. In Hermione's case, from the narrowed eyes under Hermione's hastily combed bushy brown hair, she didn't -- though it seemed like she had been thinking about it a lot.
"I'm sorry," said Harry simply.
What Hermione said next caught Ron by surprise.
"'I'm sorry.' And that's supposed to make everything all right again, Harry, is it? Go ahead already and get caught by the Ministry of Magic here and sent to Azkaban," she said savagely and stormed off.
Harry stared uncertainly after her until he could no longer see her. Ron spoke next.
"She's really upset by this entire thing. Hermione's been talking and talking and she still thinks you're a nutter for even having done what you did, coming here and everything. She was so upset last night at you that she didn't even want to mention your name. And you're not helping any, Harry. So just -- just leave us alone."
He said all this very fast. Ron then stood up very abruptly and he, too, left.
Feeling twice as stupid and confused, Harry sat heavily in Ron's empty seat. Liam entered the Dining Hall. To avoid him, Harry ducked under the table. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling Liam would be asking him questions as he was sure Ron and Hermione had been looking sulky on the way out. His suspicion was confirmed when Liam casually swiveled his head like Ron had done. Checking between chair legs, Harry only came out when he was sure Liam couldn't see him.
The trek back to the Lodi Guest Dormitory was uninviting so Harry decided instead to see what Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were up to in North Palisades Tower. It was nothing very fascinating; one of the teachers was holding a wizarding fashion show. Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and Ginny were all very giggly. Not feeling very happy nor wanting to smile or laugh, Harry found Ron and was going to retrieve the Explicatrix from the top of Lodi Hall. Ron, however, flat out refused to escort Harry, even disacknolwedging his existence after Harry said please. Consequently, Harry then spent a good few more hours in the library, poring over book after book.
The next book, he kept saying to himself, vaguely remembering saying something much the same during the last Triwizard Tournament, it'll be in the next one...
When he had depleted a stack of thirty or so books, he decided to give up and head back. If he couldn't find Ron, he resolved to take Raides and Disapparate to Hogwarts. Then he remembered that Raides, too, was at the top of Lodi Hall. He'd have to sleep somewhere but where, he didn't know...
Liam hadn't come by at all, probably having finished his research on the terrible Blast-Ended Skrewts, thought Harry. He looked at the golden watch on his wrist. It was four in the morning. Then he took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes as an uncontrollable urge to grab the Order of Merlin plaque came sweeping over him. There was no way around it, he would either have to find Ron or Hermione and plead with them to bring him up to bed or find a soft, comfy part of the hard, marble floor to curl up on, trying to conjure a feeble blanket with his fingertips. Although the wooden and metal walls were thick, that didn't stop the snow outside from making it feel cold.
Feeling thoroughly miserable now, Harry put his glasses back on, wrapped his cloak as tight around himself as possible and stood up, heaving a great sigh. He knew it, he knew Ron wasn't going to bring him back up; he had already refused Harry once and there was just no chance Hermione was going to do it. He wasn't even sure they were still in the Lodi Hall common room for him like they had been doing. Though he now wished he hadn't ever asked them to do that for him; it had been stupid and insensitive of him to ask them to stay up in the wee hours of the morning just so he could get to bed.
Closing his eyes sharply, a feeling of self-disgust on his face as he took a deep breath and exhaled then letting his eyes slowly open, Harry set off towards the Greenhouse Complex. Vaguely remembering Lavender Brown saying something about no one ever going up to the top floor where the deadliest man eating plants were, he figured he'd have the best chance of not getting caught up there. A Summoning Charm wouldn't work; Hermione had read in A History of Hayden's that, somehow, they figured out how to block spells by a tricky set of powerful, ancient charms.
Just to make sure, just to see, he walked all the way towards Lodi Hall. As he expected, there was no one sitting there, no one left to take him upstairs. When Harry was crossing the grandly echoing Whitewonder Tower, he heard hurried footsteps coming up behind him. Someone was panting heavily.
He turned around and saw Ron hurtling towards him. It wasn't the expression of utmost terror on his face that gave away what had happened, nearly making Harry's heart stop, it was the state of his usual tattered, second-hand robes and what he was carrying.
"Ron," said Harry weakly, dropping all pretense that he wasn't going to speak to him.
Ron, who was about to crash right into Harry, skidded to a halt and began sputtering incoherently, the expression of utmost terror not dying in the slightest. Harry shook him and felt his hands. They were as cold as the snow outside, which was quite the same color as Ron's face.
Harry tried to tell Ron to get a hold of himself but didn't think it would do any good. After some few moments of Harry staring into the dead-looking eyes of Ron, Ron managed to string a few words together that made some sense.
"I -- I don't know what made me do it," Ron sputtered, blood all over his robes and a knife just as bloody clutched in his hand. "He -- he attacked me!"