He didn't feel guilty. Not one bit. Pomfrey had said he could leave. So he did. Even if that meant leaving the sleeping proffessor and his brother in the hospital wing snoring up a storm. The corridors were bare as it was almost curfew. They should have just left while he was asleep. It was a little creepy that they watched him while he slept. He couldn't think of anything else they could have been doing while the potion did its work. Maybe they talked. But they could have done that elsewhere couldn't they?
Ron sighed. As beautiful as the school was during the day, it was downright creepy at night. Even more so with the lack of people. He wondered if anyone was up in the astronomy tower, those classes were always late at night. Of course that led him to questioning curfew. Why have it if classes go past it?
He shook his head and picked up the pace back to the dormitories. The shadows danced in the halls under the magic torch light. Feeling a bit unnerved, he began to chant an old rhyme he had heard from a matron in one of his earlier orphanages. Out of everything he could have remembered, he recalled the chant she'd say when the boys had been bad and we're doing extra chores. She chanted it as though she wanted it to stay with them forever. A burden on their mind.
"There was a naughty boy," he began quietly to himself, recalling the lines she had performed religiously.
"A naughty boy was he,
He would not stop at home," Ron turned the corner and couldn't help but think of the home he knew he could never have. One where he would never question if he would belong. Other boys tried to run away, only to be brought back to go more chores and hear the chant once again.
"He could not quiet be-
He took
In his knapsack
A book
Full of vowels
And a shirt
With some towels," Ron spoke more confidently. No one was around. Not even the ghastly ghosts who often roamed the halls at all hours to guide students or hinder them.
"A slight cap
For night cap,
A hair brush,
Comb ditto,
New stockings-
For old ones
Would split O!" he laughed. Old stockings were truly terrible. He knew. They always got used stockings in donations. He had long ago given up wearing them even in the coldest of weather, giving them instead to younger children to layer themselves from Britain's bitter winters.
"This knapsack
Tight at 'is back
He rivetted close
And followed his nose
To the North,
To the North,
And followed his nose
To the North." he finished the verse, pleased to see the picture of the fat lady awaiting his arrival at the door.
"There was a naughty boy?" she questioned. Ron's face lit up a flame. He had forgotten the pictures had eyes and ears. Most were asleep after all.
"Pig snout," Ron stated clearly. Somewhat amused the a Fat Lady let him in, her frame opening as a door. He stepped inside quickly, quietly making his way to his room. In would have worked if he hadn't tripped on a book. Falling in a most spectacular fashion, his hands were thrown into the air instinctively as he landed on his face. He groaned in pain and irritation. Who puts their book in the kiddle of the common's entry way?
" 'Ello Ronnie!"
"Fancy meeting you here."
Ron could easily hear the amusement in the two quickly growing familiar voices. He groaned in irritation. He couldn't help but think what a saint their mother must be to have dealt with them for eleven years before Hogwarts.
Before he could get to his feet, two sets of hands grabbed his arms and dragged him to his feet. Ron sent a weak glare to the ever annoying trickster twins. They hadn't done anything yet, but he was still wary. So he was surprised when they handed him a chocolate frog and a box of Bertie's beans. Ron furrowed his brows in confusion.
"A little bit of sweets always makes us feel better after seeing Pomfrey."
"We figured you would too."
"Neville got a sugar quill and some licorice wands."
Ron relaxed a little. No bias based on his appearance. Sweets all around. He accepted the sweets, placing them in his pocket in case the tricksters had altered them in any way. They watched him as he walked up the stairs to his room. He could hear only the slightest clicking of shoes on stone. It could have been them following him. But Ron just wanted to go to his bed to sleep. Opening the door, Harry and Neville were the only ones awake. His green eyed friend stared at him for a moment.
"Feeling better?" He asked. Ron nodded.
"You could have gone to bed."
"Couldn't," Neville began, "Harry was asking some questions about wizard life."
Ron's eyes widened.
"Wizard's life? Like how they survive day to day without electricity, modern medicine and cars?"
Neville furrowed his brows but did nod.
"Wierd," Ron stated opening the chocolate frog. The little chocolate morsel jumped out of the box before Ron could stop it. Harry jumped off his bed and easily caught the little bugger. It squirmed before the charm wore off and it stilled. Ron walked over and took the frog from Harry's outstretched hand. Biting off a leg, he looked at the card inside. Dumbledore.
"Hagird's sending the baby with Charlie's friends to Romania. Named him Norbert," Harry began talking. Ron nodded his head. He skimmed over the few words on the back of his card, dragon blood... chamber pin bowling... Nicholas Flamel...
"He said he was scared. Norbert was. That you got to close. He offered to give you some lessons with some of the creatures here after what happened with Norbert and Fluffy."
"Ca we not talk about that dog?" Ron grumbled. He would rather be confused by Neville talking about Wizarding households than relive the three headed mutt.
"Dog?" Neville asked shyly. Ron scowled as his wish wasn't granted.
"Ron ran into a three headed dog awhile ago. Hagrid talked about him like he was a harmless kitten. He did say that he was a good guard dog though."
"He'd eat you. He was big enough to swallow me whole," Ron complained.
"Hermione asked what he had guarded, Hagrid said that was between Headmaster Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."
Ron looked back at his card.
"You mean, the guy who made the... Philosopher's Stone?"
"The what?" Harry asked. It was Ron's turn to shrug his shoulders. He showed Harry his Dumbledore card which was missing one wizard with an impressive beard.
"Do you know what this is Neville?" Harry asked.
"No. Sorry."
Silence filled the room. And with an uneasiness, the boy's head to bed, one planning on asking questions, another avoiding devious red heads, and the other trying to pass potions.
Moo. I have really nothing to say.
"There was a naughty boy" was written by John Keats.
There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
He would not stop at home,
He could not quiet be-
He took
In his knapsack
A book
Full of vowels
And a shirt
With some towels,
A slight cap
For night cap,
A hair brush,
Comb ditto,
New stockings-
For old ones
Would split O!
This knapsack
Tight at 'is back
He rivetted close
And followed his nose
To the North,
To the North,
And followed his nose
To the North.
There was a naughty boy,
And a naughty boy was he,
He ran away to Scotland
The people for to see-
There he found
That the ground
Was as hard,
That a yard
Was as long,
That a song
Was as merry,
That a cherry
Was as red-
That lead
Was as weighty
That fourscore
Was as eighty,
That a door
Was as wooden
As in England-
So he stood in his shoes
And he wondered,
He wondered,
He stood in his shoes
And he wondered.
And that was its entirety. I felt it fit. No TV, Ron's not much of a reader, but can remember verbal if repeated, in fear or if said by someone he respects or cares about.
So, as always, please review.