Seven Reasons Not to Love

Part Three -Burden of the Brave

Harry and Hermione made their way back to the Gryffindor common room after enduring a panicky hour and a half of Charms. Harry was almost out of breath by the time he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, having run most of the way. Ron had not been in their class, like he should have been, and Harry needed to find out why. His mind was dwelling on the words Ron had said before class. He'd been annoyed, but not so angry as to avoid class just because he and Hermione were going to be there. Ron was in trouble, Harry was sure of it. And he was trying his damned hardest to conceal it. Well, no more. Harry and Hermione were going to find him, and help him. The first place to start was the dormitory, in case Ron had been feeling unwell and slept through class.

Harry told Hermione to wait, and leapt up the dormitory stairs, taking them three at a time.

"Ron!" he called, entering the room a second later. "Ron, are you here?" He let his eyes skim over the room, taking in the clothes strewn around Ron's bed. He hadn't bothered to put anything away for days, and there was mess everywhere. Harry turned and descended the stairs again. Hermione was waiting at the foot of them, an anxious look in her eyes. She turned to leave and Harry fell into step next to her.

"Harry, I've asked some people, they haven't seen him for a while. Ginny says he hasn't spoken to her for at least a day, and she hasn't seen him today. Though there was one...a second year said she thought she saw him in here early today..." She drifted off, her eyes falling to Ron's bag shoved on the chair right in the corner of the room. Harry followed her gaze, and his eyes fell to something else. There was a lot of parchment on the table, but folded...there was something.

Harry walked directly over to it and shifted the rest of the clutter to see a small rectangle of parchment that had been torn from a scroll. His name and the start of another word had been scrawled on it, but a long jagged line running from the last letter written showed that the writer had left without finishing. And by the way the smudge of ink went onto the next piece of parchment, they did not want to. Hermione was silently watching from his side as he picked up the parchment and opened it. He recognised the writing immediately as Ron's, though it seemed more shaky and messy than usual, like he was in a hurry to get it all down.

He read quickly: Harry and Hermione,

It's Ron. There's something really important. It's hard. I have to tell you. Luna, she's not missing she's dead. I saw them. They killed her. Pansy Parkinson and that Blaise girl. And not just them. You have to believe me. I have no time to explain. They'll know I did. I am. There's seven of them. I know who most of them are, just two. You have to tell someone for me, help me. They make me forget and stop me talking about it. It's not just that though. They have a plan, something in the school. They're watching everyone, have spies amongst each house. Even ours. They knew I have a secret. They know loads of stuff. Working for You-Know-Who. Get help. ~Ron.

Harry stared at the parchment, re-reading the words again and trying to make sense of the frantic short sentences. He passed it to Hermione, who examined it again.

"They must be controlling him somehow. But how..." Hermione mused. Harry however, was feeling a sudden swell of anger. And of shock. He wasn't sure what to think of this. Ron wouldn't lie, yet it seemed unlikely. There was no proof Luna Lovegood was dead. And how could Pansy, or Blaise have killed her. Neither of them knew how to use the killing curse. Even if they did, someone would've known, found out. They needed more information. Ron had to be here somewhere still. It seemed that Hermione was thinking along the same lines as Harry was, as she said, "I think we should go look for Ron. To see if we can get him to tell us any more."

"Right. Library first?" Harry suggested, starting to walk. Hermione simply nodded and followed him out of the portrait hole.

Once they reached the library, a quick scan around all the aisles showed that Ron wasn't here. They even check near the restricted section, leaning to see if they could see a splash of red hair. But there was none. Harry sighed deeply and turned, muttering, "Hospital wing," to Hermione and following her out of the room. They had only walked a few staircases lower and were now on a dark corridor leading to a wing off of the castle. Suddenly, Harry noticed a figure slinking along the corridor in the shadows.

As they approached, he saw the sun's dim light that was filtering through the corridor's few long, thin windows reflect off a familiar, and loathsome blonde head. Harry almost hissed with dislike when he saw Malfoy, and Hermione stopped in her tracks, glaring darkly at him.

It took Malfoy a moment longer to notice them, but when he did his malevolent grey gaze fixed onto Harry, who felt a stab of anger. Malfoy stopped and the tiniest of smirks crept onto his lips as he crossed his arms and stared defiantly at them. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped. Malfoy shrugged and glanced out of the window.

"Nothing to do with you, Potter. Perhaps you should stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. You never know who's taking notice." His smirk inched a little further, but was wiped off his face entirely when Harry suddenly launched himself at Malfoy. His blood was boiling in his veins. Malfoy knew something. He always seemed to know something more than he should.

Harry slammed Malfoy into the wall so hard the stone behind crumbled slightly. Malfoy looked shocked for a second, before his icy gaze returned. He stared at Harry, obviously expecting something, but when Harry tried to speak, he simply gritted his teeth instead.

"I'm not psychic, Potter! Am I supposed to know why you're pinning me to a wall?"

"Where is Ron?" he managed, though his breathing had increased and he was sure his face was so hot it could melt ice. Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily.

"How the fuck should I know?"

"I KNOW YOU KNOW SOMETHING!" Harry bellowed, thrusting Malfoy into the wall again. He heard Hermione squeak something behind him, but ignored her.

"Get off me you maniac!" Malfoy spat, struggling against Harry's grip. Harry let go. He then punched Malfoy in the face. Malfoy staggered sideways, and when he looked back his wand was out. Harry plunged a hand into his robes but Malfoy had the advantage.

"Impedimenta!" He yelled, his spell hitting Harry squarely in the chest and causing him to freeze where he was. Malfoy brought his hand to his face, rubbing the blood from his lip as he sped down the corridor, not sticking around for what Hermione might do.

Once the spell had worn off, Harry and Hermione continued making their way towards the hospital wing. Hermione had been reproaching Harry's behaviour until he snapped and told her to shut up. They were now walking in silence. Harry carefully opened the hospital wing door and the two of them stepped inside. Madam Pomfrey immediately shuffled over to them.

"What's wrong? What've you done this time Potter?"

"It's not me. It's...I need to know if Ron Weasley is here?"

"No. Should he be? Is something wrong with him?"

"No..."

"Well," interrupted Hermione, "we're not sure. We can't find him, you see."

"Oh," Madam Pomfrey said coldly. "And the first place you check for your friends is the hospital wing is it? Go on, out! Stop disturbing my patients." And with that she shoved the out of the door. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Stupid woman," Harry said, not bothering to keep his voice down as they left.

"I think we should tell someone, Harry," Hermione said, catching him up. Harry shook his head. Ron wasn't stupid. If he wanted a teacher to know he'd have left an instruction saying so. However, when Harry mentioned this theory to Hermione she simply shook her head and told Harry he was being stupid, that Ron said get help. Harry led the way back to Gryffindor tower, ignoring her. They'd work out a plan once there.