Author's Notes: Ugh...considering I posted another story around 4:30 this morning, it's WAY too early (7:20 AM) on a Saturday to be posting. Still, if I do this maybe I can go back to sleep and grab a few more hours of sack time and wak up when the sun isn't just BARELY out of its own bed.

This chapter might seem a bit odd to you folks, as I ended Ch. 13 with something of a cliffhanger...at the very least, it ended mid-scene...and I begin this chapter having completely glossed over the rest of Ron's meeting with Dumbledore. Don't worry, you find out what happened. I just felt I should warn you before someone thinks that I've skipped a chapter or something.

Anyway, I've gotten much too little sleep to come up with a terribly interesting author's note, so I'm just going to shut up and let you read the chapter.

Thanks: Before I can shut completely up, I need to thank CutewithAcapital-Q for being my beta. So, there. I did it.

Disclaimer: And I still can't shut up cuz I need to tell you the HP stuff ain't mine, it belongs to JKR. There, that's done now, too. So...shutting up...go read, already!

Chapter 14
"Objects in Mirror are Further than they Appear"

MIRROR, MIRROR

Ron could feel his breakfast starting to disagree with him rather vehemently as he waited for the rest of the Gryffindor team to assemble on the Quidditch pitch. He still couldn't believe that he was the one Angelina Johnson had picked to be the new Keeper.

TWEEEEEEET!!

The sound of the captain's whistle drew everyone's attention and the team of Gryffindors quickly formed up around the black seventh year girl in a half-circle.

"Alright, listen up! Today's practice will be taking place without our team's Seeker," Angelina angrily informed the team, shooting a murderous glance at the team's Beaters, "Apparently, a couple of ruddy idiots bet McLaggen that he couldn't eat a pound of doxy eggs…needless to say, the dozy twit took the bet. With any luck, he'll be out of the hospital wing in time for our next practice."

Fred and George were unsuccessfully fighting to hold in their laughter as Angelina related the fate of the team's Seeker, Cormac McLaggen, to the rest of them. The captain obviously didn't find it as funny.

"Keep laughing and I'll find a new place for you two to store your Beaters' bats!" she snapped, glaring at the two of them.

The Weasley twins stopped laughing as soon as Angelina made her threat, paling slightly at the implications. Apparently Fred and George thought Angelina might just make good on her threat.

"McLaggen's Seeker skills can wait," Angelina continued, now that the laughter had been silenced, "We really need to concentrate on Ron's Keeping today."

Ron gulped loudly when he was mentioned by name. He needed a lot of work and he knew it. Angelina had said as much when she told him about her choice for Keeper.

It was nearly ten o'clock when Ron returned to the Gryffindor common room Friday night, with his Cleansweep slung over his shoulder and the newly-acquired invisibility cloak tucked safely inside his robes.

After leaving Dumbledore's office, Ron gave the invisibility cloak its maiden voyage, using it to sneak down to the kitchens for a late-night snack since he'd missed out on dinner. Sneaking through the castle under the cloak felt familiar…natural; it was something he'd done with Harry and Hermione dozens of times since their first year.

The journey back to Gryffindor tower felt freeing since he knew no one could see him, and he did something he…and countless other students…had been longing to do since he was a first year: he gave Mrs. Norris a good kick as he spotted the caretaker's cat prowling the halls.

He had removed the cloak around the corner before approaching the portrait of the Fat Lady and going through the portrait hole; as soon as he entered the common room, Angelina pounced on him.

"There you are, Weasley," she said in an annoyed voice, "I've been waiting around for you all night! Come with me."

She grabbed him by the collar of his robes and pulled him over into a quiet corner of the common room where it was just the two of them. Ron gave her a worried, quizzical look at her strange behavior.

"Listen, Ron," she said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I wanted to tell you this in person before I post the announcement in the morning. You need a lot of work, but I've picked you to be our new Keeper."

"You must be joking," Ron said, unable to believe his ears, "I was rubbish out there!"

"I'm not going to lie to you," Angelina sighed, "Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better than you tonight. However, Vicky's involved in all sorts of societies and she said if training clashed with Charms Club, she'd put Charms first; and Hooper's a real whiny tosser who's always moaning about something. Plus, you're a Weasley; I've played with three of your brothers, so I know what sort of potential you've got locked inside that scrawny ginger body of yours."

He wasn't Angelina's first choice; he wasn't even her second choice…but he was on the team.

TWEEEEEEET!!

The sound of Angelina's whistle blowing once again brought Ron out of his reminiscence of the night before. The rest of the team were mounting their brooms and taking to the air, so Ron quickly followed suit, flying up and taking his position in front of the three golden goal hoops.

Angelina was counting on him…the team was counting on him to become an exceptional Quidditch player like his brothers. As he shakily took his spot in front of the hoops, Ron realized there might be a problem living up to everyone's expectations, since he wasn't exactly like his brothers.

Charlie was so skilled as a Seeker that he had been offered a spot on the English national team during his final year at Hogwarts. Fred and George were so amazing as Beaters, they were sometimes referred to as human Bludgers. But there was a difference between his brothers and Ron.

Shorter and stockier in build, Charlie and the twins took after their mother's side of the family…the Prewetts. Ginny, too, was built like a Prewett, which meant she would probably be a fantastic Quidditch player as well. A part of Ron wondered if his mother might even be better at Quidditch than him.

Tall and skinny, Ron was every bit a Weasley, taking after his father…just like Bill and Percy. Bill, like his father, was a passable Quidditch player, but no all-star like Charlie and the twins. Percy, however, was awkward on a broom and rubbish at Quidditch…not that Percy'd ever given the game much of his time.

Ron knew he wasn't as bad as Percy, but at the same time, he knew he wasn't nearly as good as Charlie, Fred, and George. He just hoped he could pull himself together and play at least halfway decently.

"Ron…head's up!"

Ron was jarred out of his thoughts just in time to see the Quaffle heading for him. The team had been passing the scarlet ball back-and-forth as a warm-up exercise. Ron grabbed the ball out the air and bobbled it several seconds before dropping it.

"Sorry about that! I'll get it," Ron called as he dived towards the ground to watch the Quaffle before it landed. He pulled up from the dive sloppily, causing himself to nearly slip off his broom as he returned to his spot in front of the goals. He threw to ball to Alicia Spinnet as the sounds of laughter caught his attention.

Malfoy and several other Slytherins had taken up residence in the bleachers watching the Gryffindor team practice and as soon as Ron made his first nerves-induced mistake, they were loudly laughing and jeering at him, making him even more nervous.

Ron shot a dark look at the Slytherins as they drew enjoyment from his blunder. He knew they were intentionally having a go at him to make him perform even worse than he might ordinarily do, but just because he knew what they were up to didn't mean it was any less effective."

"Oy! Ron!!"

Ron looked back towards his teammates to once again see the Quaffle hurtling his way. He quickly lunged for the ball and missed it by inches.

"Come on now, Ron; pay attention!" Angelina shouted crossly.

Ron headed for the ground, once again chasing the Quaffle. His face was a deep shade of scarlet, almost a perfect match for the ball he was retrieving. Malfoy and the other Slytherins were howling with laughter as he made his way back up to the hoops.

Ron determinedly set his jaw and refused to let his eyes…or his mind…wander again. He needed to concentrate on the ball-passing drill. A large portion of his job as Keeper was to catch the ball and throw it accurately to one of his team's Chasers, so this drill was practically designed to help make him better.

The third time the Quaffle came his way, Ron caught it handily, breathing a sigh of relief. He smiled broadly and passed the ball enthusiastically to Katie Bell; unfortunately, he passed it too enthusiastically, and the ball went straight through Katie's hands and slammed her hard in the face.

"Shite! Sorry!" Ron called, grimacing at yet another bungle on his part. He flew away from his position in front of the goal rings to see if he'd injured his teammate, but received a quick reprimand from the team's frustrated captain.

"Get back in front of the rings!" Angelina shouted, "And next time you pass the bloody ball don't try to knock the Chasers off their brooms!"

The Slytherins were enjoying the show, stamping their feet and hooting and hollering as Ron made one mistake after another. Ron scowled in their direction, unable to concentrate with them making so much noise.

Katie, meanwhile, was bleeding profusely from her nose, and doing her best to stay on her broom. Seeing the state one of her Chasers was in, Angelina blew her whistle to halt the practice while she flew over and took a look at her friend.

Ron wanted to go over and apologize…to find a way to make up for what he'd accidentally done…but he knew the moment he left the rings, he'd receive another stern talking-to from Angelina and send the Slytherins into another riotous fit of laughter.

Ron watched as Angelina ordered Katie to land her broom and then moments later the bloodied girl was being sent off towards the castle, no doubt making a trip to hospital wing for treatment. George had been ordered to accompany her, since Katie was keeping her head back to try and stop the bleeding and she couldn't see where she was going.

Ron frowned as he saw Angelina take to her broom and fly up in his direction. He knew he was in for it.

"This practice is turning into a disaster," Angelina snapped as she neared Ron, "No Seeker, one Beater, and only two Chasers."

"I'm really sorry," Ron said sincerely, "Is Katie --…"

"She'll be fine," Angelina said, cutting across him, "And don't be sorry…just be good. Merlin, are you a Weasley or not? I hope you're better at defending the rings than you are at passing the Quaffle."

Ron blushed as the captain flew off to the center of the pitch. Fred released one of the Bludgers and the two remaining Chasers were preparing to practice shooting goals, which meant it was time for him to do his best to prove that he wasn't a poor choice as the team's new Keeper.

The remainder of his first official practice as a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team went about as well as it had started. Ron kept getting distracted and drifting off to one side of the hoops or the other, leaving two rings completely undefended. He did a miserable job keeping the Chasers from scoring, and with every goal they scored, Ron's confidence plummeted.

"Look, Ron," Angelina said, once practice was over and the team was changing out of their practice robes in the changing tent, "This was your first practice and I know you were nervous…but you're going to have to learn to pay attention to what's happening in the match and not get distracted by noisy, obnoxious spectators."

"Sorry," Ron sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

"I told you, don't be sorry," Angelina reminded him.

"Yeah, just be good," Ron frowned.

"You're a Weasley…you've got talent; I believe in you," Angelina said, clapping him on the shoulder, "You just haven't tapped into that talent yet. The season doesn't kick off for another month, so you've got time to improve. Just be sure you do."

With practice over, Ran began the long trek back up to the castle. As he made the lonely journey, Ron spotted Malfoy and his Slytherin cohorts, fresh from haranguing the Gryffindor Quidditch team, going out of their way to harass and disrupt a group of Hufflepuff first years that appeared to be doing their homework out on the grounds.

Ron grimaced as he watched the fifth year Slytherins proudly terrorizing the younger students nearly to the point of tears. In just two days he would be undertaking a quest into the heart of the Slytherin dungeons in search of Tom Riddle's diary. The prospect had him even more nervous than he had been during his two disastrous Quidditch outings.

If not for the recent acquisition of James Potter's invisibility cloak, there was no way Ron would be able to undergo the first part in his plan to remove Harry Potter from You-Know-Who's possession.

His thoughts immediately turned to the previous night's meeting with Professor Dumbledore.

"What are you still doing with Harry's invisibility cloak?" Ron asked bluntly as he ran the familiar cloth back-and-forth through his fingers, remembering the many times he, Harry, and Hermione had taken refuge beneath it for their various late-night adventures around the school, "You were supposed to've given this to him for Christmas back in First Year."

Dumbledore's eyes widened at Ron's comment and his face flashed a sad smile. "That may well have been how events played out on your world, Ronald, but I'm afraid I couldn't, in good conscience, give this to Mr. Potter when I found myself questioning his character."

"So you're admitting that Slytherins are no good, yeah?" Ron asked, shooting the headmaster a curious look, "You didn't question his character when he was a Gryffindor."

"Keep in mind, Mr. Weasley, that your Mr. Potter is a different person…as is your Dumbledore. We may look alike, but as I've said during our first meeting, things are different on this world," Dumbledore replied, "Your Harry Potter is a hero with a strong desire to do what's right, whereas this world's Harry Potter attempts to avoid conflict."

"And whose fault is that?!" Ron snapped, "I've seen the memories…I know how this Harry was treated; maybe with a little help --…"

"The past is unchangeable, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore sighed, "I agree that mistakes were made. I am afraid that even I am not infallible. I'm sure that, in time, you will come to find that many people that you have come to revere as great men and women beyond reproach are, in reality, mortal human beings with flaws just like everybody else."

"If the past is unchangeable, then why are there Time-Turners?" Ron asked, glossing over Dumbledore's comment about great men with flaws, "Why give Hermione a Time-Turner and then tell her to go back in time with Harry to save Buckbeak and Sirius? Why not use a Time-Turner to go back to First Year and tell Harry, before he gets sorted, to choose not to be in Slytherin…just like he did on my world?"

"Firstly," Dumbledore sighed, as if he really didn't relish the turn their conversation had taken, "You must remember: Miss Granger and Mr. Potter made no such rescue attempt here. On this world, Hagrid's poor friend Buckbeak was, indeed, destroyed following his unfortunate attack on Mr. Potter, and Sirius Black was exonerated when Peter Pettigrew was brought to justice. While it is safe to speak of such things when we are alone, you must remember to keep those sorts of remembrances to yourself when interacting with others."

"I remember; believe me, I remember," Ron said grimly. It was one of the reasons he felt so alone here on this strange world; none of his memories were shared by the people he felt closest to.

Dumbledore nodded at Ron's reassurance. "Secondly, you must understand: time travel is dangerous. To go back in time as far as you suggested could have disastrous results. Yes, perhaps it would be possible to convince Mr. Potter to ask the Sorting Hat not to place him in Slytherin, but there is no guarantee that events would then play out as they did on your world. Bear in mind that this world has already diverged from the reality you know; each reality is unique. Attempting to force this one to replicate your own could be disastrous. Mr. Potter could still be sorted into a house other than Gryffindor…or, perhaps, if he was a Gryffindor, the two of you would fail to rescue Miss Granger from the troll…one or all of you might have died when trying to save the Philosopher's Stone…young Ginny might have died in the Chamber of Secrets…I could go on…"

"Don't bother," Ron replied, frowning, "I get it; changing the past is bad."

"To put it simply, yes," Dumbledore agreed, "Now, if we are quite done with this particular topic of discussion, perhaps we could get back to the matter at hand: recovering Tom Riddle's diary."

"Right, so, with the cloak I can just sneak in to the Slytherin dungeon and search the fifth year dorm for Harry's stuff. It's bound to be in there somewhere."

"And you know how to find the Slytherin dungeon?" Dumbledore asked, giving him a curious look.

"Yeah, I was there once before," Ron said, "Back in Second Year when we were trying to find out who the heir of Slytherin was. I'll need to know the password, though."

"I'm afraid I can't help you with that," Dumbledore said, frowning, "The passwords, as I'm sure you're aware, for the various houses are changed frequently by their prefects. I, myself, have no need of the password…one of the perks of being headmaster."

"Well, then, you could get Snape to tell me," Ron retorted impatiently, "He's the bloody head of Slytherin, surely he knows the password."

"Professor Snape," the headmaster said, giving Ron a withering look, "Professor Snape will no doubt wish to keep the password to the Slytherin dungeon a secret, in order to maintain his house's safety. But, perhaps there is another way."

"What…do you want me to follow a group of Slytherins around until they happen to go back to their dungeon so I can listen in on what the password is?" Ron was being sarcastic; he was growing more than a bit frustrated with Dumbledore and his temper was starting to fray. As a result, he made a biting comment that he thought was completely outside the realm of what the old wizard before him expected. However, the look from Dumbledore, with his twinkling eyes and knowing smile, told Ron that, yes, that was exactly what the headmaster wanted him to do. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"

"Bloody demented old wizard," Ron grumbled as he thought of Dumbledore's 'brilliant' idea for discovering the Slytherin password, "What good is trusting Snape if he won't give up his house's precious password…it's not like it couldn't be changed once I was done with it."

Ron's bitterness towards his professors and his general dislike of the entire lot of Slytherins in the school had him hatching a plot to get a little revenge and teach the dungeon-dwellers a lesson at the same time.

He smirked to himself as he thought about what he'd need for his plan to unfold. He'd definitely need to use the invisibility cloak to aid him in gathering the materials for the plan, since he didn't want anyone within Gryffindor tower to see him sneaking into the seventh year dorm.

With thoughts of his plan bouncing around inside his head and a mischievous grin gracing his lips, Ron quickened his pace towards the castle. He passed the spot where Malfoy and his chums were antagonizing the ickle firsties, and he stopped short. The head boy was there now, and he was deducting points from the entire group of Slytherins and threatening to have Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson stripped of their prefects' badges.

The head boy was a Hufflepuff himself, and he wouldn't stand for the sort of shenanigans the Slytherins were partaking in. Ron smiled; not at the fact that Malfoy was getting a bit of payback for the misery he so enjoyed sowing wherever he went, but at the fact that the head boy was someone Ron would have never expected to see. Cedric Diggory was alive-and-well and had a chance to live up to his potential. He may have lost last year's Triwizard Tournament, but he kept his life, and Ron couldn't help…for just a second…thinking that, for all the bad that this world had to offer, there was some good as well.

Making his way into the castle and up to the Gryffindor common room, Ron managed to keep a smile on his face. His mission down in the Slytherin dungeon was potentially dangerous, but it was also going to be a bit of fun if everything worked according to plan.

Sitting in the Great Hall, eating supper, Ron was biding his time. He had the invisibility cloak tucked under his robes and he was just waiting for a group of Slytherins to finish their evening meal and make their way back down into the bowels of the castle.

He kept his eyes locked on the Slytherin table, biding his time as he wolfed down his roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. The dessert course came and Ron helped himself to a nice big portion of treacle tart. Any time now, a group of Slytherin students would finish eating and he'd be able to follow them down to their dungeon.

Just as he was finishing the last bite of his treacle tart, sure enough, a large group of Slytherins – first or second years, judging by their size – got up from their place at their house table and noisily made their way out of the Great Hall.

Ron waited for them to leave, not wanting it to look like he was following them, after all. Once he'd allowed the group of Slytherins a reasonable head-start, Ron got up and calmly made his own way out of the Great Hall. Malfoy and his goons shot him a sneering look, but other than that, it didn't seem as though anyone noticed his exit.

Except for Ron, the raucous group of Slytherins was the only ones in the entrance hall; this gave Ron the opportunity to slip behind a statue and don the invisibility cloak without being observed. He then followed the young group of Slytherins as they started down the spiral steps into the dungeons.

In a matter of minutes, Ron and the Slytherins were standing in front of a section of bare, damp stone wall that he recognized from his trip down here three years ago when he was secretly disguised as Vincent Crabbe.

He stood several feet away from the Slytherins, waiting to hear the password. He held his breath as he huddled under the invisibility cloak, not wanting to give away the slightest hint of his presence.

The Slytherins pushed and shoved each other, rough-housing a bit as they stood at the entrance to their common room. Soon enough, though, one of the young and rambunctious Slytherins called out the password, and Ron had to bite his tongue to keep in the angry retort that bubbled up inside him.

"Mudbloods must die!" the young Slytherin said to the blank stone wall.

Within a matter of second, a concealed stone door slid open and the group of rowdy youngsters all piled into their common room. Ron was tempted to follow them in and attempt to find the diary immediately, but he knew it would be too risky. Too many Slytherins would be milling about the common room and dormitory in a matter of minutes, and Ron knew he would need to be able to take his time and search thoroughly for the diary.

Casting one final look at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Ron retraced his steps up out of the dungeons and made his way up towards Gryffindor tower. He took off the cloak once he reached the seventh floor, and approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, muttering the password and entering the crowded common room.

He saw most of the Gryffindor Quidditch team sitting in a corner having a lively discussion interspersed with laughter resulting from one of the twins' jokes. Even if he wanted to join them, Ron had a pretty good suspicion that he would not be welcome within that group, both due to his dreadful performance at practice earlier and to the twins' obvious hatred of him.

Ron headed for the stairs leading up to the boys' dormitory. He spied Neville, Ginny, and Hermione sitting at a table where Neville and Ginny were playing chess while Hermione leisurely read a thick book. Again, he knew he wouldn't be welcome. He'd burned bridges with Neville and Hermione and Ginny couldn't bear to look at him.

Ron bit back a mournful sigh and started climbing the steps to his dorm. Yes, he was alone. Yes, he was lonely. But soon enough he'd have his hands wrapped around Riddle's diary, plunging a knife or some other sharp object into it and Harry would be a normal bloke again and he, Ron, could go home. All he had to do was wait until Monday.

"The waiting is the hardest part."

Ron's brother Bill had said that to him once. Bill had told him that he'd gotten that notion from a Muggle song he'd once heard while working in Egypt with a Muggle-born wizard from America.

At the time, Bill had been talking about waiting for a tray of biscuits their mother was baking to be finished, but as Ron waited for Monday to come, he realized that the adage could really be applied to any situation.

Waiting was the hardest part. With waiting came anxiety and nervousness and second-guessing and doubt that he would be capable of pulling off the delicate task that had been set in front of him.

Following his return from the Slytherin dungeon, Ron had holed up in his dorm, sitting on his bed planning out what he was going to do on Monday. He also managed to keep an eye on the Marauders' Map, and noticed that Harry was absent from the castle until nearly eleven that night when he suddenly appeared in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Ron had no idea what Harry was doing down in the Chamber of Secrets all the time, but he was confident that his trips down there would stop once the diary was destroyed.

When he awoke Sunday, Ron realized that he'd neglected his homework and despite the nerves that had cropped up as Monday crept slowly closer, he was forced to do his work in order to keep up appearances that he was, indeed, this world's Ron Weasley and not a doppelganger from another universe.

Monday arrived soon enough, and Ron made a point to lag behind his dorm-mates. He'd made a point of oversleeping and taking his time getting ready in the mornings all the previous week, so he thought it would look suspicious if he was suddenly up bright-and-early on a day when he would be missing from class.

Once Neville, Dean, and Seamus had vacated the dorm, Ron got ready. Checking the Marauders' Map, he saw that the seventh year boys' dorm was empty, and more specifically, his brothers were already on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Slipping on the invisibility cloak, Ron left the fifth year dorm and crept up the boys' staircase to the seventh year dormitory where his first objective for the day lay, tucked away in one of the twins' trunks.

Once inside the dorm he headed for Fred's trunk first, and inside he found what he was looking for: dungbombs; dozens upon dozens of dungbombs. Ron grinned a devilish grin worthy of Fred and George themselves; his plan was starting to come together.

Quietly exiting the seventh year dorm and returning to his own, Ron tucked the Marauders' Map into his bag and made his way down into the common room. The room was empty, as he had expected, with everyone no doubt already down in the Great Hall enjoying breakfast.

Ron would have to skip breakfast if he was going to use oversleeping as an alibi. He stomach gave a disgruntled gurgle at the prospect, but Ron just ignored it. Still under the cover of the invisibility cloak, Ron left Gryffindor tower.

When no one appeared to have exited the portrait hole, the Fat Lady began griping about students bothering to open her up and then not having the common courtesy to actually leave the tower. Ron moved as quietly as he could, years of creeping around at night under the invisibility cloak had him well-practiced at sneaking.

Soon enough, Ron was back in the dungeons, standing behind a rather hideous-looking statue of some witch named Hagrella of Hamlin, waiting for the Slytherin dungeon to clear out. Ron studied the Marauders' Map from the concealment of the invisibility cloak. Only about five students remained in the dungeon. Very soon he would be able to start his search.

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of a bell ringing throughout the school could be heard. It was the warning bell, alerting students that first period would begin in five minutes. Ron checked the map again, watching as the names of his fellow fifth year Gryffindors began filing out of the Great Hall and making their way towards History of Magic.

Binns' class seemed to be the most logical one to miss, in Ron's opinion; the boring old ghost wouldn't even realize that he hadn't bothered to show up. He'd have plenty of time to slip into the Slytherin dorm, find the diary, set off some dungbombs, and make his way back out in time for Potions.

The hidden stone door slid open, revealing the Slytherin common room, and the last remaining occupants of the dungeon exited, rushing off to their first period classes. He watched them leave, waiting until the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the damp stone walls had disappeared completely before he left his hiding spot behind the statue.

As he approached the wall that concealed the entrance, Ron felt his stomach churn. He was about to perform the part of this whole mission that he liked least: reciting the Slytherin password. The very thought of saying those words made him sick, and he could only picture Hermione looking disappointed and hurt should she ever hear him say them.

"Mudbloods must die."

The secret door appeared and slid open, revealing the Slytherin common room to Ron. He quickly slipped inside, and found the place looking just as he remembered it. The room was long and low with rough stone walls and ceiling. Round greenish lamps hung from the ceiling on chains. There was a fire crackling in the hearth beneath an elaborately carved mantel. Several high-backed chairs littered the room.

Keeping the cloak on, Ron made his way towards two sets of stairs leading further down into the bowels of Hogwarts. Thanks to the map, he managed to decipher which steps led to the boys' dorms, and quickly descended them until he was outside the fifth year dormitory.

Ron opened the door, keeping his wand at the ready. No one was inside, but he didn't know what to expect from a Slytherin dormitory. Once inside, he was a little surprised to see it was similar to the Gryffindor dormitories, with the exception of the color scheme and lack of windows.

There were six beds in the dorm room, and since he didn't know which one belonged to Harry he started his search at the bed closest to him and worked his way around the room. There was a trunk at the foot of each bed, as he had expected, and after checking the monogram on the trunks he found Harry's after only four tries.

Harry's trunk was locked, but a simple Alohomora spell opened it quick enough. When he opened Harry's trunk Ron was surprised to find nothing inside but clothes. No books, no quills, no parchment, and definitely not Tom Riddle's diary.

Ron immediately began a search of the rest of the room, ransacking it much the way his sister had done Second Year when she was searching for the diary within Harry's belongings back on his world.

He found nothing.

A sinking feeling overcame Ron as he realized that the end of his mission which had seemed so close at hand that he could feel it had now been wrenched from his grasp and he was no closer to going home than he was when he first arrived on this world.

Author's End Notes: Okay, well, there you go. Ron's jaunt into the Slytherin dungeon didn't go as planned, whatever's going to happen now? You'll find out soon, because I'm already more than halfway done with Ch. 15. So, I should have it posted in two weeks. SHOULD!!! That's the operative word here.

Anyway, let me know what you thought of this chapter or of the overall story in general. I'll be waiting!