"He's just shocked, that's all. He didn't expect it," Ron mumbled to himself on the way downstairs, "I knew he would be. I knew he wouldn't take it well. Once Harry calms down, he'll be happy for me. He just needs time. Maybe he'll go through training with me. Even if I don't get in, he will."
Ron opened the door to the outside world. It was March, but still freezing. He shivered a little, and regretted not taking a jacket of some sort. He leaned against the outer wall of the building. He fumbled in his pants pocket for a moment and produced a cigarette and a lighter. It was a bit of a Muggle habit to use a lighter but Ron had been taught to smoke by Dean Thomas, a muggleborn, and he preferred the muggle way. He found it calmed his nerves.
"Have any extra?" asked someone on the wall nearby him.
Ron turned to his right and found none other than Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall next to him. Malfoy was wearing muggle clothes; jeans and a shirt. He, apparently, did not find the early spring chill an obstacle, seeing as he was only wearing along-sleeve, black shirt. Ron pulled back, and quickly whipped out his wand, mostly out of fright, but also immense curiosity. What was Draco doing here? Wasn't he supposed to be in Azkaban or dead, like all the other death eaters?
"You're wondering why I'm here. Before you ask I'll answer. Then you'll give me a cig. I haven't had a smoke in a while, it's killing me," Malfoy smirked. Ron stood still, wand still pointed and he continued, "I killed Crabbe. Got thrown out of the ranks. I was put in prison with Granger. She managed to escape and took me with her to the hospital. I was there at the same time as you. I met Lupin. He advised me to come here. I'll be staying in Neville's room."
Ron reached for his pocket and took out a second cigarette. He didn't feel the need to obtain authentication of the story. He knew it was true. They smoked in silence. Both boys staring straight ahead into the clouded emptiness of the darkening street.
Darkening street? It was only three in the afternoon! Why should the street be getting dark? Ron looked at Malfoy. He didn't seem to notice anything odd. He was just leaning, staring, off into the space in front of him, completely contained in his own world. The street disappeared altogether instantaneously. Something was in front of Ron's eyes. Someone was tying a string behind his head, blind folding him. His arms were being held behind his back.
"Malfoy! Anyone! Help!" he tried to scream. As he opened his mouth, cloth was shoved in almost gagging him. The fabric was wet, soaked in some liquid. It felt too smooth to be water. Ron was unable to formulate the thought poison before he passed out from an unprecedented level of absolute exhaustion