Author's Note: It took me a while to get back the inspiration for this, and I'm thinking that it feels strained because I had to fight with it every step of the way. (it was not posted as it was written—I wrote the first two chapters months ago, and only posted them a little while ago….)

Warnings: Same.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do, however, own the 'cruentus conspicio' incantation and all related rituals and effects.

The Next Morning

I yawned widely, squinching my eyes against the sunlight and wished my ears could do the same against Neville's snoring. A few moments later, I chucked my pillow at him, though that only shut him up for a minute or so; then he started yelling at me for waking him up. Thus began another wonderful day in Gryffindor tower. It only got worse when I realized that Harry hadn't come back yet.

"Where's Harry?" Neville murmured right on cue, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and unconsciously echoing my thoughts.

"Dunno," I muttered, going a little red under the tired scrutiny of the three other boys. Somehow, they made me feel like I had something to hide. "He went down to the Quidditch pitch last night. I haven't seen him since." I added helpfully.

While the rest of them were pondering, I slipped down the staircase to the Common Room, wondering if Harry had simply gotten up early. However, when I got there, he was nowhere to be found.

Harry didn't show up at all that day. Due to the lack of his presence, Hermione continued to avoid me, making the day drag by.

I finished dinner early, and immediately hurried back to Gryffindor, wondering if Harry had returned from wherever he'd gone and had simply decided to take a nap. However, he wasn't in our dorm, and the only students in the Common Room were a handful of anorexic-looking fifth- and sixth-year girls chattering in a corner, and some confused-looking fourth-years puzzling over a piece of parchment. Feeling rather vindictive, I asked to see the note. Looking worried, they handed it over, most likely wondering if they were about to get into trouble.

When they showed it to me, a cold weight settled into my stomach, though I didn't know why. "Cruentus conspicio," I began to read. Though I stumbled a little over the unfamiliar pronunciation, a chill of power shivered up my spine at the sound. "I'll be waiting. Guess Who." I finished half to myself.

I turned the note over, looking for any sign of identification. "When did you find this?" I asked the three, glancing at them almost suspiciously.

"Early this morning, about six-thirty. On that table," a boy with a pale face and dark hair supplied, pointing at the table where some of my homework had been sprawled the night before.

"Lying on top of one of the open books," added a thin-faced, nervous-looking boy.

The third part of their little group, a girl with a thick blonde braid and glasses, fidgeted a little, looking out the window. I followed her gaze, but I didn't see anything. I eyed her, wondering if there was anything to see. A moment later, she spoke hesitantly, though without my encouragement. "It sounds like a spell," she murmured, pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

"I think I'll keep this for now." I muttered, folding the parchment carefully and stuffing it into the pocket of my robes while pondering what to do next. After a few moments, I decided that the best course of action would be to find Hermione, no matter how angry she was with me.

When I arrived at the Great Hall, dinner was over. I paused a moment, then hurried toward the library, hoping that we weren't going to play cat and mouse all night. I had no doubt that she would win.

Fortunately, I spotted her only five minutes later, at a table in a particularly musty corner of the library. Gingerly, I crept toward her, hoping she wouldn't disappear when she saw me. In my mind, I tried to compose an apology, but ended up going over the words of the note again instead.

As I approached, she looked up and glared at me, then looked back to her books, obviously ready to ignore me. Gulping, I pasted on what I hoped was a charming smile and closed the last few feet between us.

"What do you want, Ron?" she snapped before I even opened my mouth, though her eyes remained on the pages in front of her.

"Well," I began sheepishly, "I know you prob'ly don't want to talk to me right now, but—"

"Get to the point," she spat, fidgeting with her wand very pointedly.

"Look, Hermione," I sighed, hoping the defeated attitude would work with her. "I'm really, really sorry about what happened last night, but I really, really need your help."

"If you've put off your homework again—" Here she finally looked up, which was better than I'd expected, even if she was still glaring.

"It isn't that!" I promised quickly, holding my hands in front of me protectively.

"Well, then what is it?" she asked, calming down a little.

I looked around, not wanting to be overheard. The closest possible observers were a couple at the opposite end of the long bookshelf, and though they looked very busy to me, I leaned closer to Hermione, lowering my voice. "Harry's missing."

"He's what?" she hissed sharply, raising her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I haven't seen him all day. He didn't come up to bed last night, and he wasn't there this morning. I was just up there to check again, and he isn't in the dorms or the Common Room. It isn't likely he's in the infirmary, we'd have heard about it by now."

Hermione looked skeptical. "Ron, are you sure you're not overreacting?" she asked. "That spell you used was pretty strong, it's known to cause temporary paranoia and hallucinations if cast incorrectly…"

"It's not a hallucination!" I whispered fiercely. "I'm not seeing things! What I didn't see was Harry, and that's what's bothering me!" I remembered the note and dug it out of my pocket. "Besides, some fourth-years found this on my books this morning, and it could be a clue!" Triumphantly, I passed her the crumpled scrap of parchment and waited to see what she made of it.

"'I'll be waiting, guess who'? No novelist, that's for sure," Hermione replied lightly. I stared at her.

"Why aren't you taking this seriously?" I asked in a strangled voice, wanting to shout.

"Because it's only been one day, and we don't even know if this note is related."

"But we have to do something!"

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "You go check the Hospital Wing, to make sure he isn't there, and I'll try to figure out what the first line of this note means. We'll go from there," she ordered matter-of-factly, sliding out her chair and going to consult the library's catalogue system. I stared after her for a moment, then hurried toward the Hospital Wing, eager to prove that I wasn't being paranoid.