1. Thanks a lot to romioneB for helping beta this chapter. I am sure it will be far better with that valuable advice. Also thanks to Ana-DaughterofHades who helped me years ago on the initial version of this.
2. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer.
3. I'm slow but I do move forward. I have upcoming updates for Ship of Wars, Uncrushed and a couple of new stories that need to tidy up before publishing, after that I get back to chap 14 here and then probably Son of the Legend, Gatekeeper Book and Halfblood Weasleys.
4. I have a twitter account (TimeTravelFFics).
5. I do read reviews and appreciate all of them. Can't answer Guest reviews, will get them here when I see some. There was one last chap about this deserving more reviews, thnx, we'll see... probably gets more once is completed *shrugs*.
The following days proved to be quite a challenge for Ron's resolve. Every night, after the lights went out, he would stare at the top of his four-poster uneasily, wondering where the blasted mirror was now. It was maddening. Ron didn't even know if the thing offered him a true vision of the future or nothing but a bloody illusion, although that didn't stop him from feeling daftly drawn to it.
I can't be going mental for some rubbish that might not even be real! That wicked mirror's just messing with my head... Hell! It might not be that much different from the bloody locket!
The Mirror of Erised was a completely different kind of magic and not evil in its nature. Still, it was hard not to compare it to the locket when the mirror made him feel like a failure just the same. Granted, the images it had shown to Ron weren't near as nightmarish, but the yearning they brought was straining his spirit. It was as if that rotten mirror had seen his heart as well and was somehow using it against him. If Ron let it take over his mind, it would bugger him senseless for sure, Dumbledore had been right on that part at least. Ron had to put a good deal of effort into reminding himself that what he had seen was only a reflection and that the real thing was left behind with the other mirror, the one who sent him back to the past.
That bloody mirror…
Ron had promised himself to focus on keeping the young Hermione safe from Quirrell, and he would be damned if that wasn't what he was going to do. However, with what he realized after Christmas, the time-travelling mirror had come back to his thoughts as well, and with it a hope he had considered lost of fixing things and returning to his own time.
Would that really be it? Could it be possible that whatever the American did to that shifty mirror wasn't much different from the way Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone?
Honestly, Ron wasn't sure, but it was the best lead he'd had in months and he might as well give it a check. It wasn't going to be as easy as a mirror-opening book falling onto his lap though, the chances of sneaking to the library were few without Harry's Quidditch practices and he couldn't just head to the teachers' table and ask Dumbledore casually about the spell he used. If the headmaster didn't find anything odd in Ron's behaviour the other night, that would certainly let the niffler out of the bag.
And so, the holidays passed without any new findings, mostly with Ron and Harry exploring the empty castle. Harry appreciated the distraction, as he was affected by the memory of the Mirror of Erised just the same as Ron. Even on the nights he didn't have a nightmare, Harry constantly wriggled and rustled in his bed, so Ron tried to help him and did his part in convincing his friend that he shouldn't go out and look for that mirror. Sometimes, it felt like Ron was also talking to himself when he did so.
The twins were definitely a highlight, as they were occasionally glad to have Ron and Harry tag along with them. In terms of his mission, those days weren't productive, but they made Ron remember those last holidays at the Burrow with Fred's presence. Seeing his brother in the flesh never stopped being amazing, especially now that Ron had seen what Fred's future self would look like in the mirror's reflection. In a way, he felt guilty being the one sent back to the past as he knew his parents or George would have given anything for one last look at Fred. Nevertheless, Ron had to remind himself that this was no pleasure trip and he had to get back to his task sooner rather than later.
It was so that the scarlet train piped back into the Hogsmeade station before he knew it, unloading tropes of returning students keen on sharing their holidays' adventures. To Ron's surprise, he didn't have to go out looking for Hermione, because the girl walked straight to him as soon as she met his gaze.
"Thanks," she said, without a hint of her previous cold tone. Harry, who was standing next to Ron when it happened, was also taken aback and turned to him questioningly. Hermione made her words clear before Ron had the chance to ask, "For the sweets on Christmas. It was a lovely gesture."
"Err, same," Ron managed to mumble.
Hermione smiled and then continued on her way towards the girls' staircase without another word, leaving Ron unsure if they were on good terms again or not. After their disagreement over Quirrell before the break, there was nothing Ron needed more.
At his side, Harry glanced at him with curiosity. He was about to say something when Seamus and Dean came by, a welcomed distraction.
The start of the new term was odd in a sense. Classes went on as normally as one could expect them to and no bloody disaster blew on Ron's face for a change. He remembered to thank Alice Tolipan for the Christmas Chocolate Frog she sent him some time at the end of the first week, and even when his words were short and formal the girl replied with a warm smile and a nod. Considering the fate that was awaiting her — the same as Roger Malone and so many others — avoiding her a second time around made Ron feel ashamed, but he stop disrupting the timeline if he wanted to have a shot at salvaging his future life.
Hermione was a different matter altogether since it was she who appeared to be avoiding Ron. Although she didn't show any signs of being mad at Ron, she didn't approach him either and was always the first one to hurry out of the classrooms when the lessons ended. If Ron knew her well — and he totally did — he would bet Hermione was waiting for an apology. Perhaps not a proper one, but at least an admission that her theories about Quirrell weren't entirely rubbish. Ron didn't know if he should do so, even when it was getting harder to find a compelling argument to deny the whole thing.
During the holidays, Ron had tried to deal with Quirrell's suspicions of Hermione, mostly through lying to Harry loudly about how the girl suspected Snape whenever Quirrell was in their proximity. Harry had his doubts about it, but as long as Voldemort bought it, Ron didn't bloody care.
Putting Hermione's suspicions back on Quirrell's rack now would be like making bollocks of all of his efforts. However, Ron couldn't leave things as they were, not knowing what Hermione was up to. He needed to find a way to solve things with her without admitting to Quirrell's involvement. Knowing her, there was a fat chance of that, but he was definitely going to try.
As the days passed, he became more eager for the first Quidditch practice to arrive so he could talk to Hermione in the library. An opportunity that was soon to be made possible thanks to Oliver Wood's impatient urge to get his team ready for a match that was almost two months away.
When that day came, Ron reached the library to find Hermione looking into Switching Spells. At first, she seemed polite enough, yet as soon as Ron mentioned the Quidditch game and Snape she snorted and turned back to her work, so Ron made another effort.
"Look," he said, speaking carefully. "It's not that I don't think that you could be right, because you're brilliant. You're smarter than me, actually," Hermione's eyes opened wide and Ron noticed her cheeks colour a bit. Even so, she forced her eyes to stay on her book, "The thing is, Harry and I are sure that it's Snape, so it can't be Quirrell. We have proof."
"What proof?" the girl asked as she promptly spun to him.
"Do you remember me talking about the third floor corridor?"
An instant frown came to Hermione, "I've told you that it's forbidden! You shouldn't have—"
"I know, and you're right," Ron was quick to cut her off, "We shouldn't have, but we did. The thing is, that we found something in there. If you want to know why in Merlin's pants we know it's Snape, then you'll have to hear me out."
Begrudgingly, Hermione listened to the story this time. Ron told her all about their trip and discovering Fluffy, who'd been standing over the trap door, even mentioning that Snape was limping afterwards. Not long after, the whole discussion then turned to Nicolas Flamel, a topic Hermione was visibly curious about. Nevertheless, the girl still had her attention on Quirrell and didn't consider Ron's tale to be strong enough proof to make Snape the only possible culprit. In the end, and against his initial plan, Ron had to admit that it could be either of them behind trying to get to the stone and the attack on Harry's broom. Even so, he insisted on Snape being the most likely candidate and told Hermione that they should be careful around both of them from now on. Thankfully, by the end of it, Ron noticed that Hermione was more curious about Nicolas Flamel than she was about Quirrell, which made him relax a bit.
All things considered, the start of the term felt more promising than what Ron had expected. He was still friends with the young Hermione, and Harry didn't look as irritated with her presence as he had a few months back. To make things even better, Dumbledore didn't appear to suspect Ron of anything shady, and there was also that good lead to follow regarding that time-travelling mirror. And lastly, to top it all off, Quirrell wasn't trying to kill anyone yet — that Ron knew of at least.
If Ron was unusually lucky, he might even be able to convince Harry and Hermione to work together on Flamel's investigation. It wasn't a given that he could fix things up to this point, but he was the most hopeful he had felt since the Quidditch game disaster and Ron wasn't going to give up without a fight.
o0o0o
January passed in the blink of an eye, but unfortunately, Ron hadn't been that lucky in bringing Harry and Hermione together. His relationship with Hermione was doing well and the girl appeared to be glad that they were still friends, however, she and Harry were just as distant as before. Hermione still passed too much time in the library, and Harry wasn't keen on spending more time with her than was strictly necessary. Ron's one card to play, Nicolas Flamel, wasn't as convincing now as he had expected it to be either. Harry was currently more absorbed with the upcoming game against Hufflepuff than the stone investigation, even more so since he found out that Snape was going to referee the match. Perhaps after the game Ron could put the three of them back together.
The investigation about the time-travelling mirror was moving slower than expected as well. Ron was investing most of his library time with Hermione and there was no way in hell he could study a suspicious book without her noticing. He did spot a title or two that had spellwork on mirrors and which could be of use, but what little time he had to sneak a glance inside them told him that the more useful bits were advanced, and the theory on them was dead tedious. Ron had to pass his aversion to non-practical studying if he needed to get things done though.
The day of the match approached, and the Friday before the game the first years entered Snape's class whispering about it.
"The Forgetfulness Potion is so simple that even the... less talented of you should be able to get it right," said Snape once his class started. As usual, the dungeon's coldness was capable of dampening even the most spirited of moods almost as quickly as Snape's drawling voice. "Still, it can cause unpleasant consequences if it's handled with recklessness and sloppy hands." He had his deep black eyes set on Neville as he spoke.
"Nervous, Potter?" sneered Malfoy from behind their seats, "You should be. Wonder what the school will think when you lose to those fools in Hufflepuff."
"Drop it," Ron warned him.
Snape turned, but they all moved their attention back to their cauldrons just before the man noticed them.
"Malfoy's only being a git because you beat them the last game," Ron muttered to Harry later. "Or maybe being a git just comes naturally to him."
"Even so, I wish he would mind his own business," Harry whispered back.
Halfway through the class, they heard Malfoy's voice again. The prat was speaking to Goyle loud enough so Harry could hear, "He should be looking for Glue Potions instead. It could help keep his arse on that broom of his."
Ron turned around as soon as he heard them laughing, "He beat Slytherin in spite of that!. Hufflepuff will surely be tougher."
"What would you know about Quidditch, Weasel? I bet you can't even afford half a Quaffle."
"Shut up Malfoy!" said Harry, a tad too loud.
"Potter!" shouted Snape, "Have you finished? Because otherwise, I don't see why you're causing this uproar."
"No professor we—"
"We were helping Malfoy," interrupted Ron and caught the class' attention, "He's been having problems with his potion and asked for our help. We were just pointing out that he's holding Poison Ivy and this potion doesn't need it. I think what he needs is Valerian."
Malfoy, who had been sniggering since Snape had caught them, was now stunned in place holding a bunch of Poison Ivy in his hand. Snape narrowed his eyes. "Indeed, this potion has no need for Poison Ivy, but Mr Malfoy would have done better in bringing up his doubts to me. Either way, you two were causing an unacceptable amount of noise. Potter, Weasley, one point from each of you for this disorder."
It was surprising to feel so happy after losing points, but neither Ron nor Harry could stop smiling. Malfoy was fuming behind their backs.
"You'll pay for this."
"You're welcome, Malfoy," said Harry as Ron poured Lethe River water in his old cauldron.
Ron was still cheerful that afternoon when he reached the common room, but he got curious the moment he noticed Hermione fidgeting by the fireplace as she only did when she had discovered something. As Harry was currently at his last practice before the game, Ron didn't waste any time in reaching her.
"I think I found him," she whispered.
"Who? Flamel?"
"No, not him. Not yet. I found the one responsible for jinxing Harry's broom. Without a hint of doubt, it was Professor Quirrell."
"Wait, what?! I thought we went over this already. We agreed on—"
"That it could be either one, yes I know, but it's really him!" she insisted, moving her eyes frantically in both directions to make sure no one was eavesdropping. In a way, it reminded Ron of their last trip to the Burrow and how nervous she had been of being overheard.
"B—But Snape, we have proof—"
"Weak," insisted Hermione, "Yesterday I heard Professor Quirrell talking to someone inside a classroom. I couldn't tell who it was, but Professor Quirrel appeared to be reporting to him and he sounded a little too afraid of doing so if you ask me. Professor Quirrell is helping someone else hurt Harry and getting through that trapdoor!"
"It can't be!" cried Ron. He couldn't believe it, all these weeks thinking Hermione had dropped that rubbish and suddenly she'd solved it. He was a fool for not watching her more closely.
"I know it's hard to believe, but I heard them. They were talking about Harry's broom and how we knew about it— Oh, and he said that Professor Snape is really close to uncovering him. Do you know what this means? Professor Snape did the counter-spell, he's been trying to protect Harry all along!"
"Maybe you misheard him."
"Of course not! I even asked Professor Quirrell about three-headed dogs the other day after class and he was nervous."
"You did what?! Hermione! That could be dangerous!" For the first time, Ron had to admit to her that Quirrell could be the one they were looking for, yet he didn't care. He couldn't believe he had been so relaxed the last few days and mostly going over Quidditch talk with Harry and the twins when his future wife was going after Voldemort.
"Well, we need to tell someone!"
Ron stared at her for a moment, jarred as he tried to think of a way out. There was none. In the end, he decided to nod. It would change the timeline incredibly, maybe for good, but it was better not to fight with her again and send her right after Quirrell. "Tomorrow, after the game."
"Tomorrow? If he's really as dangerous as you say, shouldn't we be doing this at once?"
"Better do it tomorrow, to not make Harry nervous with his game and all. 'Sides, Quirrell isn't going to go anywhere."
Ron also thought the extra day could help him find a way to minimize the damage to the timeline. Perhaps still save it? Was that even still possible now? He had to think fast.
Hermione ended up agreeing to wait, and Ron was left dead worried. He had no bloody way of stopping her from going to Dumbledore, but he wasn't going to let her out of his bleeding sight until Quirrell was no longer a danger.
o0o0o
The next morning, Harry woke up quite jittery. There was nothing to worry about regarding the game, after all, Harry had caught the snitch way too fast the previous time. However, Ron knew that the real problem was far from the pitch.
Ron kept his eyes on Hermione throughout breakfast, though everyone else's mind was on Quidditch.
"It's Hufflepuff, it'll be a stroll in the park," Lee Jordan said when he and the twins came by.
Harry asked for Ron's opinion, which he gave with a weak nod. "If we handled Slytherin, Hufflepuff has nothing on us, mate."
In front of them, Hermione appeared to be having a peaceful breakfast. However, Ron could tell by her discreet glances at him and the teachers' table that her mind was elsewhere.
"Ronnie is right, for once. Hufflepuff is the easiest game of the season this year, we've told you so," said George.
Harry didn't dismiss the opponents that easily, though he didn't look near as anxious as he had been before the previous game. "They must have some good players. Don't they?"
Fred shrugged casually. "Applebee's a decent chaser, but the rest of them have butter in their hands."
A laugh came out of Lee as George nodded beside him, "I've heard that Diggory — this bloke in our year — is showing promise as a seeker, though still a reserve."
Ron swiftly lowered his eyes, feeling somewhat guilty, as he did every time he thought about Cedric.
"Overconfidence will get you with talk like that. Losing the game may do you some good," Percy intervened across from Lee. Unlike Audrey, who was at the Hufflepuff table chatting lively with her friends, it was unusual for Percy to take part in Quidditch discussions.
"Oi! Sod off with that talk!" Lee said.
The twins jumped out of their seats just as scandalized, "Say George, was Percy sorted into Gryffindor? Because for a moment I thought my ears heard him wishing for Gryffindor to lose."
Percy rolled his eyes. "Those were not my words. I only said that it might be for the best if you keep this attitude."
"Rubbish! That's not how you support your team!" George complained, "You need to take some time to think things over and decide where your loyalties lie."
"Most certainly," Fred agreed solemnly.
After that, Lee and the twins parted towards their places among the third-years and Percy turned to another conversation as well. Before Ron could say anything else to Harry, their morning was made sour by the arrival of Malfoy. His cronies hadn't even waited to finish their breakfast to come and bugger them, as both Crabbe and Goyle were still chewing some bread and had their pumpkin juice glasses with them.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" asked Harry.
Malfoy sneered, "Not as much as your weasel here. He's only waiting for you to leave so he can pretend to like the library."
"Stop it," seethed Ron. He didn't have the mood nor the time for Malfoy right now. He moved his eyes to Hermione once more and the Slytherin didn't miss it.
"Don't tell me that you like that book-rat, even you could do better."
Ron stood up from his seat and faced Malfoy, his face feeling hotter. They pulled their wands out, sometimes it was easy to forget Malfoy was still a kid as Ron just wanted to hex his arse off. Before he even thought of a spell he could use though, Percy threatened the Slytherins with taking points and telling McGonagall, and they returned to their table sniggering. Back in his seat, Ron noticed Hermione staring oddly at him. He didn't know if she had heard what Malfoy had said.
They went on to finish their breakfast so they could hurry to get ready for the game, but after a while, Ron started to feel dizzy, and Harry didn't look that well either. When Ron turned to his glass he realized he couldn't remember if Malfoy and his bodyguards had left with their own glasses or not.
"That prick!" said Ron, trying to think of what they could have put in the drinks because his head was a foggy mess.
By then the Great Hall had almost emptied, "Harry come on, we have to go... to go... somewhere... The Hospital Wing! That's it!"
Harry followed him doubtfully out of the Hall. Ron could hear Malfoy laughing not far away, yet he didn't have time right now for that git, he would handle him later. Against everything he had decided before, he ended up leaving Hermione behind, but he had no other choice. He couldn't look after her, feeling like he was. Unfortunately, Ron and Harry weren't even halfway to the Hospital Wing when they got confused again and forgot where they were heading.
Harry stopped, "You— who-? What's your name?"
Ron was caught off guard by the silly question, but surprisingly the answer didn't come easily, "I'm... Ron, who are you? Where are we going?"
"I'm Harry, I think," Harry said, moving his dazed eyes to the sides.
"Harry? Are you sure? Where's Ginny?" asked Ron.
"Who's Ginny?"
"You don't remember her? She's your— Wait no, you're just a kid. You can't be Harry." Even so, Ron stared at the scar on the boy's forehead.
"You're a kid too."
"I'm not, I'm— Blimey! I don't know what I am, but I'm not a kid. Something is wrong with us. We need help."
Harry nodded and they ran through corridors and moving staircases. Soon they stopped again.
"Where are we going?" asked Harry.
"To get help," insisted Ron, as if that was the most obvious answer.
"Where?"
Ron was stunned, he didn't know how to answer. He saw through the window next to him and found the lake extending in the distance. He couldn't even remember where he was. "We should ask someone."
"Who?"
"Anyone!"
They went on for a while, asking for help without even knowing what they needed help with. A boy looked at them as if they were crazy, and unfortunately he left them there without even trying to understand what was wrong. Two corridors away they found a blond girl wearing a green scarf, she seemed to be in a hurry but at least gave them the directions to the Hospital Wing. The bad part was that they forgot where they were going a few steps later.
Ron and Harry wandered around the castle for a long time, tired and a tad hungry as well. A couple of times they passed in front of the Hospital Wing without realizing it. Soon, they found themselves outside where a tree almost knocked them to the ground when they got too close to it.
"Harry? Ron?" asked a huge bearded man. Ron and Harry exchanged bemused looks.
"Do you know us?" asked Harry.
The big man seemed taken aback, "O' course I know yeh. Wha' d'you think yeh're doin' here? 's almost time fer the game."
"What game? Who are you?"
At this, the man appeared to be dumbstruck, "Follo' meh, we better get yeh checked."
Half an hour later, Ron started feeling normal again. He was on a comfy bed feeling as if his whole head was spinning, while next to him Harry looked pretty shaken up as well. There was also a boy with a bandaged leg a few beds away, but aside from him, they were the only other patients around.
"... nothing to worry about. A simple Forgetfulness Potion. It would have faded eventually."
"That would have been too late!" said a Gryffindor boy not far away. He was holding a big banner, and his face was painted in red and gold.
"He can play, right?" asked another one, who Ron now recognized as Seamus. "The game's about to start!" The Hospital Wing doors were opened and the entrance was packed with more people wearing red.
"It is?!" Harry almost jolted out of his bed, "It wasn't until this afternoon."
"What time do you think it is? You have been affected by the potion for most of the day, child," said the matron.
Ron's eyes sprung open wide. Everything was still kind of blurry but he could remember enough to know that he was going to kill Malfoy later.
"So they're all right'?" asked Hagrid from the back.
"Physically fine, nothing to worry about. They didn't eat at all during the day though, and Mr Potter might be too dizzy to get on a broom," said Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm all right. I'll grab something on the way," said Harry as they headed towards the door, only waiting for the healer's answer.
Pomfrey stared at Harry pondering if he could fall from his broom if she let him play. In the end though, she sighed in defeat and nodded. The whole pack of Gryffindor students then stormed downstairs with cheers.
That prat Malfoy had planned this precisely today to mess with the game, and Ron was already thinking of ways to get back at him.
Everybody must have been at the pitch already since the corridors were empty, which wasn't a good sign at all. Ron asked Hagrid about Hermione, as he had been planning on doing a banner for the game with her that day. He had no idea if she was worried or mad at his absence. Unfortunately, Hagrid said he hadn't seen her, which made Ron feel uneasy.
"Where were you?! Are you trying to kill me?!" Ron heard Oliver Wood yell at Harry in the distance as he made his way towards the stands. The whole school was there already, even Snape was in the middle of the pitch looking impatient.
Once in the stands, Ron felt his stomach growling but he had to settle with only the casual snacks that Dean was passing around.
"We thought you weren't coming. What were you doing the whole day?" asked Neville.
"Long story."
The crowd roared as the players started coming in. Ron turned from one side to the other in search of Hermione, but he couldn't find her. The stands were big, she could be anywhere, or maybe she decided to skip it altogether. Yet, that didn't reassure Ron.
"Ronald, are you all right? I heard you were at the Hospital Wing," said Percy as he approached him.
The game started just then, with one eye in the air and the other on the stands looking for Hermione, Ron tried his best to explain the events of the day to Percy. His brother thought Malfoy must be the one to blame as well and promised to talk it over with Professor McGonagall. Hagrid, who was still next to Ron, didn't look at all happy about Malfoy's involvement, but Ron knew there was little chance to prove anything against that prick.
Percy cleared his throat, "About earlier, I hope you don't think I'm against Gryffindor. What I wanted to point out is that Quidditch is a game and it doesn't take a lot to lose, even if the odds are indeed in your favour, as you presume," he said, giving a look at the air where Angelina just missed a goal.
It was then that Ron noticed something in the lineup that shocked him, "Cedric is playing."
After following his eyes, Percy didn't look surprised, "Oh, yes, I've heard that their main seeker had an accident and is in the Hospital Wing recovering from a broken leg."
Hagrid nodded, "Heard the same thing. David Croaker's the lad's name."
The name felt eerily familiar to Ron, though the reason for that didn't come to him that easily. "Who?"
Percy answered, "Ehm, David Croaker. I have Transfiguration with him. He's quite loud and should focus more on his schoolwork if you ask me. Do you know him?"
"Err, dunno. I don't think so. It's just... the name sounded familiar," Ron answered doubtfully, the gears of his memory trying to pinpoint where he heard the name.
"You might have heard it from Dad. David has an uncle who works at the Ministry," Percy guessed and soon after he went back to his seat with the other fifth-years.
Ron was left unsettled though, not only because of the name he couldn't place but because he spotted Quirrell on the stands across from them and he still hadn't seen Hermione yet.
Where the hell is she?
Up in the air, Harry didn't seem to be having a good day as his movements seemed slower and more erratic. George then hit a good bludger but Ron's thoughts couldn't stay focused on the game. He decided to ask about it.
"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked around.
Dean shrugged.
"Haven't seen her all day," someone said.
"She's not in the Gryffindor tower, we just came from there," said Lavender a couple of rows back. Parvati Patil was nodding, confused. Alice and Sally-Anne watched with attention.
"Maybe she forgot about the game, she doesn't like Quidditch... I think," Sally-Anne said.
"She's probably at the library," said Seamus.
Neville shook his head, "I was there the whole day and I didn't see her."
Bloody brilliant, now what?
Hagrid looked puzzled as he scratched his head, but the mystery was unnerving Ron. He had an awful feeling about Hermione and that David Croaker name kept bothering him for whatever reason. He didn't even mind that much about the new change to the timeline that allowed Cedric to play.
Hermione… Croaker… Hermione… Croaker! Bloody hell!
All of a sudden, everything clicked on Ron's head. He was sure as hell where he had heard that name now. Hermione had worked with a Saul Croaker before. On a time window. Most likely the same that got Ron sent to the past.
This was the biggest thing ever, maybe the key to getting back to his time, to his Hermione. This Saul Croaker could have a prototype of his mirror already, perhaps he could even send him back. It was all he had hoped for ever since arrived. He just had to look for Percy and ask more about this Croaker bloke… and… still… the young Hermione was missing.
Ron saw Percy among the crowd, not far away, then he looked up and noticed Harry desperately searching for that snitch. At last, he turned back to the castle and made up his mind.
Oh, Fuck this!
As fast as he could, Ron stormed out of the stands. Hagrid yelled at him asking where he was going, but he didn't have time to answer. The prick Malfoy had taken all the time he had from him.
Ron raced across the most common places in the castle where she could be, still, there was no trace of her. He only found Peeves singing about the memory-less boys from first year. By then, Ron's search had gone desperate. He used all the short-cuts he knew, looked at as many parts of the castle as possible, however, it was all useless. If something happened to her he was never going to forgive himself. He was an Auror, he couldn't fall for cheap tricks from Malfoy.
Out of nowhere, an idea came to him and he stormed upstairs as fast as a Nimbus 2000. He spat the password from far away and thundered into the Gryffindor tower and up to the boys' staircases.
Fred's trunk had some protective spells — joking spells mostly — but Ron was able to go through most of them quickly. He ended up with some blisters on his hands, which he didn't care about. When he found the old piece of paper, he took out his wand.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Ron hurried to say, and the map started filling up with names.
It was unbelievably easy to find her. Most of the people were at the pitch, so aside from Madam Pomfrey and Filch, the castle was practically deserted. The tag 'Hermione Granger' was there in an empty classroom, half-mocking him, half-filling him with joy.
Ron raced downstairs telling himself that if her name appeared that meant that she was fine, he was on time, nothing bad had happened to her yet. Then the doubts crept. What in Merlin's saggy bollocks was she doing in that place? It was an abandoned room, with no use whatsoever.
He tried to be hopeful. Surely she was studying in private and had forgotten about the match. Ron only needed to check on her and return the map. Then, he would focus on Croaker.
Saul Croaker, how did I fucking miss that? I could have reached him months ago!
After what seemed like an eternity later, he reached the door and all thoughts of Croaker rushed to the back of his mind. He glimpsed back at the Marauder's Map, to double-check. She was in there, there was no doubt. Ron took a deep breath.
"Mischief managed," he said, tapping his wand to the map before putting it away. Then he knocked.
No answer.
She was there, the map couldn't be fooled. He knocked again. "Hermione?"
Nothing.
Fear overcame Ron. What if something had happened to her? He didn't have time to lose.
"I'm coming in!" he shouted, trying to open the door.
Locked.
Ron was getting the worst of feelings. He raised his wand.
"Alohomora!"
The door swung open and, after he crashed inside, Ron stopped in the doorway as if frozen. The classroom looked indeed abandoned, as it surely had looked for some time now. There were cobwebs, dusty chairs and — in the middle of it all — a fallen cauldron with its contents spilt all over the floor. Next to it and lying motionless on the cold stones, there was a bushy-haired girl.