re-edited 2015, see first chapter for notes
Chapter 10: The List
Ron sneaked downstairs that night, trying to find a book that would have the recipe for Polyjuice Potion in it. He searched and searched—they must have it somewhere, but where?
He was looking through a pile of books when he noticed something sneaking around next to him on the floor. He grabbed at it—it was Scabbers, otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew.
"Not you!" Ron said with a scowl. "If I didn't know you won't do anything I'd kill you."
The rat gave him a wary look and scurried away.
Ron groaned and turned back to the books, and began searching again.
Finally, almost at dawn, he found the book. A book of potions—it had the recipe in it. He stumbled upstairs and into his room, then looked at the list. His brain didn't seem to be working, he was so tired. He rubbed his eyes and glared down at the recipe.
"I should make a list," he said to himself. "I have to figure out when I need the ingredients, what to do with them…how to get them…well, some of these look easy enough to find, but…" He lay down on his bed, and looked through the pages. How would he get the other ingredients? He couldn't just steal them from Snape, this time.
How he wished his friends were here. Where were they now? Who were they now? Would they ever…no, he wouldn't think of that, Ron decided.
"Right," he murmured. "So… first thing I have to do is this…"
Ron needed some of Other Ron's hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. He should get that first, he thought. All he had to do was sneak into Ron's room, with a pair of scissors…
The next day Ron came downstairs in a fury. Fred and George looked over at him.
"Hey, did you do something to your hair?" George asked. "It seems different."
It was two inches shorter and looked like it had been cut by someone with their eyes closed.
"Someone," Ron growled, "cut my hair!"
"Really?" Percy asked.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Who was it?"
"It wasn't us!" Fred said.
Ron carefully didn't catch Other Ron's eyes as he focused on eating breakfast. He was afraid he'd laugh if he saw him. Upstairs, the list was waiting.
.
.
.