Disclaimer- If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be writing book seven so I could make millions of dollars, not writing online for free.
January 3rd
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"Come on Ron! We need to collect the herbs before sunrise, or they won't work!."
"Blimey 'Mione, why'd I have to come? Couldn't you have brought Harry or Neville or someone?"
Hermione and Ron trudged through the bleak Forbidden Forest, just before dawn on January third. Ron, having been dragged out of bed and threatened with the jaws of life, agreed to come with his girlfriends to gather herbs for a particularly difficult potion.
"Please Ron! It's only a little further!"
Ron stopped dead in his tracks. Major déjà vu.
"'Mione? This may sound weird, but Malfoy's not gonna come out from behind a tree and shoot me with a cross bow is he?"
For a moment, Hermione looked stunned at this odd question, the she regained her composure and replied.
"Of course not Ron, why would you think that?"
Ron stifled a laugh as he turned his attention back to the path in front of him. Hermione would never hire someone to do him in. Especially Malfoy. She loved him.
Behind him, Hermione glanced into a thicket, and, seeing the dark clad figure she had hope to see, gave him the "forget the plan" sign. The figure's eye's caught her own, and then turned suddenly and stalked back toward the castle.
Hermione turned back to see Ron staring at her inquisitively. She offered a small smile, hoping secretly that he wouldn't catch on. Now that the plan was foiled, she needed to find some herbs to collect. This definitely wasn't worth getting detention over. Now she just needed to find some bloody herbs and get the heck out of the forest. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted brightly colored leaves.
"Ron! It's the Mortmost!"
"But I thought that was just Dittany?"
"Oh, yes, of course. It looks so much like Mortmost."
A low rustling was heard somewhere further into the woods. It could have been any number of non-dangerous and completely harmless noises, but it caught Ron and Hermione's attention. The sound was heard again, somewhat louder. Now there was no doubting that whatever it was wasn't friendly or harmless.
The noise build from a small rustle to a steady rumbling, and continued to grow until the din was near deafening. Ron looked around, trying to find the source of the noise, and his eyes settled on a cloud of dust stirring in the distance. In front of the cloud, the form of a centaur could be made out. Now Ron was no expert on dust clouds, or centaurs, or anything else for that matter, but even he could figure out that one centaur couldn't make a cloud that big.
Hermione, sensing a way to execute her plan, ducked behind a tree, leaving poor Ron to fend for himself.
The centaurs came closer and closer, until Ron could see the pure rage in their eyes. In that instant, Ron's life flashed before him. It was a very inconvenient occurrence, seeing as how it distracted him just as a herd of angry centaurs came galloping through.
Hermione turned away. This wasn't how she envisioned the mission being put into action. It was supposed to be a quick, painless death. There should have been a body to take back to the castle, and much less blood. As the stampede cleared away, Hermione almost lost her breakfast.
Ron wasn't even recognizable. He had practically burst like a balloon from the initial impact of the herd. After that, his Hogwarts uniform was torn to bits, saturated in his own blood. It was not until a few moments later that the stench reached Hermione. She almost keeled over when the scent of blood filled her nostrils.
With one last look, she got up and fled. Running as fast as she could, she hardly noticed the blonde boy smirking from behind a tree.
'She should know not to back out of a plan, especially when I was so looking forward to it. No matter, the centaur were willing enough to cooperate. Now, she just needs someone to help her get over the emotional stress.'
Draco stole one last glance at the mess smeared on the floor of the forest before hurrying back to the castle.
The forest was silent. There was an ominous feeling of death in the air. The next week there would be a closed casket funeral for the boy-who-didn't-live. Hermione would come, cry, and go home.
No one ever needed to know about the true nature of the morning's expedition.
Thus ends the rather boring life of Ron Weasley…again.
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