As Ron handed in his assignment to Professor McGonagall, who gave him a stern but impressed stare, he noticed that the feeling of nothingness in his stomach had not left. Sure, he had handed in his assignment and at the very least, passed it, but now he had that seven point contract to fulfil.
Oh God, the contract.
Ron had only managed to glimpse the first points but what he had already seen did not seem promising. Hell, he didn't even know what purpose these objectives were serving. It was most likely part of Fred and George's way of entertaining themselves. He suddenly wondered if anyone else had ever been offered this opportunity before…
'Point 1/7– The obligated, one Ronald Bilious Weasley, is under Unbreakable Vow to complete the following to the very best of his ability. Mr Weasley must kidnap the beloved pet and accomplice of one Mr Argus Filch, the dreaded cat Mrs Norris, and conceal the creature for the duration of one week. If she is returned to Mr Filch in this time frame, this will result in Mr Weasley's death.'
Ron couldn't help but feel that this was one of the easier tasks. He had the perfect place in mind to stash Mrs Norris, the Room of Requirement. Once he had the cat, he could conjure a room ideal for concealing a cat for the duration of a week. It was simple. There was only one catch. He had to catch Mrs Norris.
However with a shrewd and cunning plan, Ron thought he had this under control. He could just summon Mrs Norris to him and then toss her right into the Room of Requirement. Three simple words and the first point was fulfilled. Well, almost.
With a guilty look aside, Ron pulled out his wand and whispered, "Accio Mrs Norris."
With a howling and a shriek, the cat came spinning into the hallway and right at Ron. Ron opened his cloak and stuffed the cat inside. Predictably, she snarled and bit him.
"Bloody hell!" gasped Ron as Mrs Norris began crosshatching into his stomach, "you rotten little-"
He reached under and grasped the cat by the scruff of the neck, as she scratched wildly into the air, swatting at his wrist with her claws. Ron swore furiously and ran to the wall, thinking with all his might.
'I need somewhere to stash a cat for a week,' he thought, trying to ignore the constant presence of cat claw on his wrist. A door materialised and Ron flung it open. Slamming the door behind him, he flung Mrs Norris across the room. She spun wildly before smacking against a scratching post and landing in a litter box.
"I'll let you out later, when you're feline friendlier," quipped Ron rather cleverly before pushing the door shut. He turned around and blanked his mind, the door vanishing as he did so.
He sighed; it had been easier than he thought. He looked down at his wrists, which were dripping with red. He swore under his breath, now he had wounds that would be difficult to explain. If only he knew a spell to stitch up wounds. Alas, he had always relied on Hermione for that sort of thing, what with her being the brightest witch of her age, even if she couldn't realise that a blue cat was the most hilarious-
Wait a minute, thought Ron to himself. Crookshanks. He could blame the scratches on Crookshanks. That way Hermione would feel guilty for her pet's supposed attack and Ron had an excuse for why his wrists were bleeding more heavily than an emo's on a Saturday night.
The perfect crime.
Ron smiled. He had everything figured out. There would be no backlash from this at all.
He was brilliant.
"Like hell Crookshanks did that," scoffed Hermione with a scowl, "I trimmed his nails last night. Are you suggesting he bludgeoned your wrists open with the stumpy nails he had now? Or maybe you just cut them open yourself as part of a ploy to make me feel guilty."
"Well-"began Ron, wildly thinking of an excuse out of the situation, "now that you mention it, it might have been the other Crookshanks. You know… the Hufflepuff one? Yeah, the Hufflepuff one."
"The 'Hufflepuff one'? What does that even-"began Hermione before Ron laid a finger on her lips and shushed her.
"It's okay Hermione. I accept that I was wrong, it wasn't your Gryffindor Crookshanks, it was the Hufflepuff Crookshanks. I'm sorry I falsely accused it of slitting my wrists and I'm sorry you were offended when I coloured your cat blue. I hope when we can still be friends."
Hermione pursed her lips but looked mollified. She always loved it when Ron apologised.
"It's okay Ron, I forgive you," she said, having apparently been distracted enough by his apology to forget his bizarre claim of an alternate Crookshanks, "I guess it was kind of funny."
They briefly hugged before Fred, George and Harry burst into the room, roaring with laughter.
"Hey Ron did you hear about Mrs Norris?" chuckled Harry, wiping a tear from his eye, "apparently Mr Filch claims he was petting her in his room when she suddenly floated out and away from the room! He's claiming she was kidnapped can you believe that nutter? She was probably just sick of Filch's heavy petting am I right?"
"So true," laughed Fred (or was it George?) with a meaningful stare at Ron, "What kind of deranged lunatic would kidnap Filch's cat anyway? Who knows where it's been!"
Hermione's arms crossed themselves and Ron saw her pout in that oh-so-familiar way.
"Guys, I know that Filch is a crotchety old pain in the neck but kidnap is wrong. You wouldn't happen have had anything to do with it would you Fred? Or are you George?"
Fred and George traded knowing looks and smiled in a sickeningly sweet and innocent way at Hermione, it made Ron's stomach turn.
"Oh Hermione, I can assure you, we haven't touched a hair on that poor cat's head," said Fred truthfully.
"We never touched her Miss, I swear!" whimpered George in a mockingly Oliver Twist-like voice.
The pair laughed, throwing their head backs and rocking their shoulders. Hermione's frown became firmer, and Ron swore it seemed somehow more solid than earlier.
"You two are so callous. You might think it's funny, but I think it's horrible. In fact, I'm going to track down Mrs Norris myself and return her home."
Ron could have punched the twins.
"I'll help you Hermione. I know a few things about catching cats."
"We bet you do," smiled Fred and George darkly and Ron broke into a sweat. Surely they wouldn't say anything? If Hermione found out about this, she'd hate Ron forever…
"Good luck you two, just don't take up too much time in your search. Wouldn't want you to fall behind in your workload. Don't forget your… deadlines."
As Ron and Hermione left the room, he looked at the twins and remembered one of his least favourite lines on the contract he had signed just hours earlier.
If she [Mrs Norris] is returned to Mr Filch in this time frame, this will result in Mr Weasley's death.
A shiver was sent down Ron's spine. Suddenly, he realised that there was much more on the line than temporary embarrassment. If Hermione was able to sleuth out Mrs Norris' location…
The door slammed loudly behind Ron and he quickly leapt to Hermione's side, keen to divert her location as far as possible from the Room of Requirement.
To Be Continued…
