Ron leaned against the door behind him. His body had slumped to a seated position as soon as the blasted door had swung closed. He rested there now, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, and his chest heaving. Breaths came quick and he struggled to catch up, to help his mind make sense of this experience. Reliving Hermione's torture sent a foreboding sensation through him; it was like he could feel her impending doom sneaking up on him. He ran a shaky hand through his hair.

Looking around finally he realized he, Harry and Neville were placed in a small corridor. In front of them were three doors, each with a heavy lock around the doorknob. Ron felt for the thin chain around his neck, pulling out the ornate key that hung there. He eyed the key, feeling equal parts terror and relief at the prospect of what unlocking these doors might reveal.

Standing up at last, Ron took another steadying breath, readying himself to finish this.

"I think we split up here, mate," Neville said softly. "Roberto already went through that one."

Neville gestured to the door farthest to the left.

"How-"

"There's no way to know," Harry interrupted. "I think you just have to pick one. Go with your instincts."

Ron looked down at the small key in his palm, rolling it between his fingers as if it might reveal some secret. This whole ruddy process had been a leap of faith. It seemed this would be no different. Ron walked purposefully to the far right door. He threw a look over his shoulder to make sure Harry was right behind him. He was. To Ron's left, he saw Neville move toward the center door, reaching forward with his own key. At the same time, Ron shoved his key into the lock, turning it gently until he heard a satisfying click. The door creaked open and Ron walked forward, praying against hope he would find the right girl waiting past this threshold.

Ron stumbled as soon as his foot hit the ground beyond the door. Harry faltered as well, bumping into Ron as the door swung closed behind them. Turning swiftly, both men saw the door had vanished. They now stood in the middle of a field, the moon high above them and gray clouds casting eerie shadows against the tall trees scattered all around. In the center of the field, just twenty feet from the two young men, stood a lone tower.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered. He peered up at the tower; it seemed never ending. It looked like something out of one of Ginny's childhood storybooks, its top turret turning into a pointed, cone shape. He and Harry shared a look then turned and quickly made their way to the tower. Standing at its base, the thing looked even more imposing.

Then, as if struck by inspiration, Harry cupped his hands around his mouth and began to shout.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair!"

Ron raised a wry eyebrow, looking at his mate as if he'd just gone off the deep end. Harry shrugged in reply.

"It's a muggle thing. I thought it might work."

Ron slouched against the stone tower is frustration. He threw the sword down beside him, suddenly incredibly angry at the situation.

"Harry? Is that you?"

Someone was shouting at them and Ron jerked his head up. He saw Weasley red hair poking out of a window perched high up at the tallest point of the tower.

"Ginny?" Harry shouted back in relief. "Thank God! Gin, are you hurt…are you okay…"

Ron strained his ears to listen for a reply, anything to let him know the girls were safe and unharmed. Before he could get any confirmation, though, Ginny had ducked back into the tower. She returned after a moment, shouting a quick yell of "Look out below!" before dropping something from the window. The object in question was heavy and it moved toward them at an impossible speed, landing with a crash between Ron and Harry's feet. Both men jumped out of the way at the impact.

"What the…is that a crossbow?" Harry asked in disbelief. Ron bent to pick the weapon up, examining it in bewilderment.

"What do you reckon they needed this for?"

Ginny was back again, yelling instructions before the two friends could ruminate on the strange object any longer.

"You have to shoot the arrows into the tower," Ginny called down. "To make a ladder so you can pull yourself up."

Ron studied the collection of arrows connected to the crossbow by a leather box. Ginny had to be joking, there was no way these arrows would support him and Harry.

"Hold on a minute!" Ginny shouted. She was gone for a brief moment, but Ron felt the time stretch, his impatience catching up to him. Then, Ginny was back at the window.

"Hermione says you have to space the arrows equally apart, she says you have to be exact or you'll run out!"

Hermione. That one word woke Ron from any doubt he was having. If he had to pull himself up a wall using wonky little arrows, he was going to do it. Stepping briskly away from the tower, he loaded an arrow in the sling and shot it swiftly through the air. It landed with purpose into the stone, the red shaking as the bladed point of the arrow struck the wall. Ron walked quickly back to the tower, reaching up to grab at the arrow. He stretched his arm up as far as he could and his fist was just able to grab the rod sticking out. Experimenting, he gently tried to lift his body weight off the ground. Ron let out a grateful breath as he realized it was working, that this bloody arrow could actually support him. This just might work.

Ron looked to Harry, wondering if he might have a better job of lining up the shots the rest of the way. Ginny had said they needed to be exact. Harry shook his head in response.

"I think you've got this, mate."

Ron nodded and moved to take his next shot. As carefully as he could, he begged the arrow to land above the first, just where he needed it to be. It looked right to him and he continued. One arrow after the other, Ron moved with speed but care, his arms and fingers getting into a rhythm with the arrows; it was like he was playing keeper in the easiest game of Quidditch he'd ever experienced. As if the bow knew what he was doing, could anticipate where he needed the next arrow to fall. Finally, Ron landed the last arrow at the highest point of the tower, just below the window. There now, in a perfect vertical line, were twenty-four arrows, perfectly spaced apart.

"Let's go," Ron said, throwing the crossbow carelessly to the floor as soon as he had finished. He moved to the tower, wiping his brow with his sleeve. Harry joined him there and Ron watched as his shorter friend reached for the lowest arrow, his grasp coming up short. Harry tried again, jumping as he reached, but still couldn't grab onto the arrow.

Ron groaned in frustration.

"Maybe I'm meant to stay behind?" Harry asked aloud, eyeing the long row of arrows leading to the girls. Ron shook his head; it didn't sit well with him.

"We don't know what might happen," Ron said. "And, whatever's coming up, I think I might need you there, mate."

Harry nodded, looking around as if searching for a solution. Wasting no time to explain, Ron moved forward, crouched down low to the ground, placed cupped hands under Harry's left foot, and hoisted his friend up.

"Oi!" Harry yelped in surprise. "A little warning next time, all right?"

Ron didn't reply, just looked up through gritted teeth. Harry got the point and reached up, finally grabbing onto the first arrow. Ron slowly stood, raising Harry as he went, until Harry was able to pull himself up to stand on the arrow.

"Now what?" Harry called down from above Ron.

"We move," Ron replied. "Slow and steady."