.
IDEALLY, the best way to spend one's seventeenth birthday is to have a party until one o'clock in the morning in their common room. After all, you only turn seventeen once and you're finally of age, but that wasn't the case for Ron at all.
"So, all in all, not one of Ron's better birthdays?"
I let out a watery sigh at Fred's words and squeezed Ron's hand gently as if to assure myself.
Hours had passed as daylight wasted away. It was already night-time, probably passed dinner too, as the halls were quiet and the torches were lit to illuminate the Hospital Wing.
The day was not what I was expecting at all. I had come down to breakfast and joined Ginny and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, ready to greet him a happy seventeenth. But instead, the three of us got an urgent visit from a distraught-looking Professor McGonagall who explained what had happened: Ron had been poisoned.
If it weren't for Harry and his bezoar. . .I didn't even want to think about it. The four of us had spent the whole day outside the Hospital Wing until we were finally allowed in, and once I saw Ron's sickly pale figure on the bed, I almost broke down crying.
"This isn't how we imagined handing over our present," George said grimly before placing said present on the foot of the bed.
"Yeah," Fred agreed, "when we pictured the scene, he was conscious."
"There we were in Hogsmeade, waiting to surprise him—"
"You were in Hogsmeade?" Ginny cut in, finally breaking away from her disconnected state.
"We were thinking of buying Zonko's," Fred replied in a somber tone. "A Hogsmeade branch, you know, but a fat lot of good it'll do us if you lot aren't allowed out at weekends to buy our stuff anymore. . .but never mind that now. How exactly did it happen, Harry?"
Sighing again for the umpteenth time, I tried my best to distract myself from listening to Harry's story again, finding it too disturbing to hear the details over and over.
"Blimey," George muttered, "it was lucky you thought of a bezoar."
"Lucky there was one in the room," Harry said.
"Extremely," I said in a brittle voice.
Hermione, who was at the very head of Ron's bed, gave a gentle sniff. It was she who had been quiet the whole day and perhaps took Ron's condition the hardest. I would never forget the look on her face when McGonagall told us the news: void of color with frightened eyes that looked like she have seen the depths of hell herself.
"Do mum and dad know?" Fred asked Ginny.
"They've already seen him, they arrived an hour ago — they're in Dumbledore's office right now, but they'll be back soon. . ."
"So the poison was in the drink?" Fred asked quietly.
"Yes," Harry said at once. "Slughorn poured it out—"
"Would he have been able to slip something into Ron's glass without you seeing?"
"Probably," Harry shrugged, "but why would Slughorn want to poison Ron?"
"No idea," Fred said with a frown. "You don't think he could have mixed up the glasses by mistake? Meaning to get you?"
"Why would Slughorn want to poison Harry?" Ginny asked almost immediately.
"I dunno, but there must be loads of people who'd like to poison Harry, mustn't there? 'The Chosen One' and all that?"
"So you think Slughorn's a Death Eater?"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I let out a snort at Ginny's words. "I think Slughorn would rather turn into an armchair than become a Death Eater."
The twins, Ginny, and Harry cracked a small smile.
"I just don't he's the type to become one," I continued quietly. "He must've not known that the poison was in the bottle too, which means. . ."
"It was probably meant for Slughorn
himself," George finished.
"Who'd want to kill Slughorn?"
Immediately, the four of us looked at Harry for an answer.
"Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side," he explained. "Slughorn was in hiding for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore."
"But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas," said Ginny. "So the poison could just as easily have been after Dumbledore."
"Slughorn or Dumbledore," I said lowly, "either way, Ron got in the middle of it. Whoever's trying to poison the both of them is doing the lousiest job I've ever seen."
"She's right," Hermione agreed, speaking up for the very first time since this morning. "The poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well. Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself."
"Er-my-nee."
All of us twisted our heads as Ron croaked the words out. I let out a smile and glanced at Hermione, who was very determined not to face her reddened cheeks to us.
Suddenly, a loud sound echoed around the Hospital Wing as the doors flew open to reveal Hagrid with his crossbow, and covered in rain water. Puzzled, I looked outside the window, and indeed saw that it was pouring buckets just outside.
"'Bin in the forest all day!" he panted. "Aragog's worse, I bin readin' to him — didn't get up ter dinner till jus' now an' then Professor Sprout told me about' Ron! How is he?"
"Gave us quite a fright," I said, "but he'll be okay."
Hagrid stood at the foot of Ron's bed and towered over all us. His crestfallen face summed up how we all felt about the situation. "I don't believe this. Jus' don' believe it. . .Look at him lyin' there. . .Who'd want ter hurt him, eh?"
"That's what we were discussing," Harry said. "We don't know."
"Someone couldn't have a grudge against the Gryffindor Quidditch team, could they? Firs' Katie, now Ron. . ."
"I can't see anyone trying to bump of a Quidditch team," said George.
"Wood might've done the Slytherins if he could've got away with it," his twin added.
"Well," Hermione spoke again, "I don't think it's Quidditch, but I think there's a connection between the attacks."
"How'd you work that out?" Fred asked appalled.
"Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal but weren't, although that was pure luck."
"Thank Merlin for that," I said as everyone hummed in agreement.
"And for another," Hermione continued, "neither the poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed."
"That's what makes whoever's doung this dangerous," I said broodingly. "Because they don't care how many people get hurt along the way."
"Exactly." Hermione nodded.
Another sheet of silence settled between all of us at mine and Hermione's words before the doors burst open again, this time it welcomed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The latter immediately latched herself onto Harry.
"Dumbledore's told us how you saved him with the bezoar," she sobbed. "Oh, Harry, what can we say? You saved Ginny. . .you saved Arthur. . .now you've saved Ron. . ."
"Don't be—" Harry said awkwardly. "I didn't. . ."
"He's always so modest," I muttered to nobody in particular but still earned light chuckles from everyone in the room, except for Ron, of course, who was now softly snoring.
"Half our family does seem to owe you their lives, now I stop and think about it," Mr. Weasley said with thick emotion. "Well, all I can say is that it was a lucky day for the Weasleys when Ron decided to sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts express, Harry."
Madam Pomfrey emerged from her study to remind us that only six visitors were allowed inside the Hospital Wing once again. Now that Ron was surrounded by his family, Hermione, Harry, Hagrid and I decided to take our leave quietly.
"I'm so glad he's alright," I said tiredly, having spent half the day standing and the other half sitting stiffly.
"Me too," Hermione said. "Oh, if it weren't for Harry. . ."
Upon hearing his name, he immediately looked at the two of us and shuffled his feet awkwardly.
"Really, Hermione, Margo," he said, "if it weren't for that lesson we had about poisons and the fact the bezoar was right there—"
"Oh, come off it, Harry," I said. "Your modesty is very admirable but sometimes it can be very irritating."
Hagrid and Hermione tried to muffle their amused snorts.
"Slughorn could have easily acted quickly regarding the situation, but you said he just stood there frozen, didn't he? It was you who took care of the situation."
"She's righ', yer know," Hagrid said knowingly.
I smiled at the disgruntled face Harry had plastered on. "I'll see you two tomorrow. Goodbye, Hagrid."
It was relieving to be finally heading back to the common room after the long day. The corridors were darker than usual, especially as I headed down towards the basement where I found the most unexpected scene in front of the Hufflepuff Common Room.
The torch-lit corridor allowed me to see a head of messy blond hair. Without showing his face to me, I already knew it was Draco. I cursed mentally, forgetting that the reason he was here was probably because I didn't show up to the Astronomy Tower tonight.
My footsteps against the stone floor alerted my presence to him. Draco turned around, and as I walked closer I could finally make out the look on his face.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. "I should have sent you a note with an explanation—"
Without leaving my to finish my sentence, Draco straightened from leaning against the barrels and immediately engulfed me in his arms, trapping my own straight down at my sides.
"I was so worried," he said, a bit out of breath. "You didn't show up — I thought—I thought that something might have happened."
"Draco." My voice was muffled due to him pulling me closer to his chest. I could hear his heart beating erratically. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I couldn't — not tonight. Something. . .horrible has happened. . ."
"What? What happened? Are you hurt?"
Immediately he pulled away and held me at arm's length as if to inspect me. His eyes wandered all over my face, probably searching for any harm. And as I did the same to him, I then realized just how worried he must have been all this time.
"I'm okay. . ." I trailed off weakly.
"Clearly not," he said immediately. "I know you've been crying — your nose is still red. What happened, Badger?"
I swallowed thickly. "It's Ron. . .He—he got fed a love potion this morning so Harry took him to Slughorn for help and—and they had a drink, and it was poisoned, and Ron. . .he. . ."
Draco's face immediately went pale. His grip on my arms loosened a little as he stared at me slightly open-mouthed.
Biting my lip to keep my voice calm, I continued, "If it weren't for Harry and that bezoar. . .Merlin, I don't even want to think about it."
He didn't say anything for a total of five counts, I assumed he was quite shocked as I was to hear the news, considering how much his hands shook violently as he let go of my arms to curl them into fists. At first, I didn't think much of it, but when he suddenly began to shake his head slowly and mutter things under his breath, I started to get confused.
I could've sworn I heard him say, "That shouldn't have happened."
"Draco," I asked worriedly, "are you okay?"
Suddenly he stopped, then looked at me with his grey eyes that seemed to hold so much pain in them. I opened my mouth to ask him again but he cupped mr face before I could let the words out.
"I'm—" he swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. But please, Badger, get some rest, alright. I'm so sorry."
"Draco, what—"
Without warning, he immediately let go of my face and turned to walk away, not once looking back, leaving me standing alone and wondering why he was apologizing.
THE news that Ron Weasley had been poisoned spread quicker than I thought it would, but I guess I shouldn't have doubted the ability of the gossipers in the school. Which made me wonder (and left me really glad) on why no one had found out about Draco and I secretly meeting up yet.
Speaking of that, it's been days since the last talk we had, which was in front of my common room. Naturally, I guessed that he was probably giving me a little space to breath until Ron was awake again, but it's been days already since he first woke and I haven't got a single letter or sign from Draco about wanting to meet up.
At first I though that it was probably because he was busy with school, or maybe he had gotten into another detention with McGonagall. Although when I tried to catch his attention during dinner or in classes, he wouldn't even look in my direction, until he simply doesn't show up to dinner and to certain classes anymore.
The whole situation was strange, it had me confused and somewhat left a stinging sensation in my heart. But I forced myself to throw the negative thoughts away, not wanting to overthink the situation until I was proved wrong.
It was the morning of the match against Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. I woke up extra early to visit Ron just before the match, only to find him a bit dismayed that he couldn't attend due to Madam Pomfrey's strict surveillance on him.
"Don't worry," I told him, "I'll tell you everything that happens. Including little bits like how Ginny's gonna try to knock Smith off his broom."
"Thanks, Margo," he said, "but it's McLaggen I wanna see get bludgered."
I groaned. "Don't even get me started on him. I've heard stories from Harry — he thinks he's the real shit and all."
"A shame, really," he grumbled.
"Which reminds me," I said, pointing an accusing finger at him, "can you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to visit you?"
He grinned sheepishly. "No promises, but I'll try."
"It's better to break up with her than to lead her on," I said smartly. "Poor girl keeps asking me whether you're alright and stuff."
"Yeah, yeah."
The doors of the infirmary opened to reveal Harry donned in his red and gold uniform and holding his Firebolt in one hand.
"Hey, Harry," I greeted, "we were just talking about that slick git McLaggen. Care to join?"
"Slick git indeed," he agreed, making Ron and I snicker in amusement. "He keeps trying to tell everyone what to do, he thinks he could play every position better than the rest of us. I can't wait to be shot of him. And speaking of getting shot of people, will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She's driving me mad as well."
"See!" I exclaimed. "Thank you, Harry. Glad I'm not the only one."
"Yeah, all right," Ron said sheepishly again.
"If you don't want to go out with her anymore, just tell her."
I nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. . .well. . .it's not that easy, is it?" Ron said. "Hermione going to look in before the match?"
A maniacal grin formed on my lips. "Missing her company?"
"Shut up."
"She's already gone down to the pitch with Ginny," said Harry.
"Speaking of, we have to be there now as well." I stood up from the chair beside Ron's bed.
"Oh," Ron said glumly, but I had a feeling it wasn't because we were leaving. "Right, well, good luck. Hope you hammer McLaggen — I mean, Smith."
"Hope it's both," I snorted.
"I'll try," Harry promised the two of us. "See you after the match."
The two of us left the infirmary with one final wave to Ron. The corridors were already deserted, with almost the entire school present at the Quidditch pitch already.
Harry was staring at the sky every time we passed by a window, a calculating look etched on his face.
"Nervous?" I asked him.
"Dreading, more like it," he muttered. "If McLaggen puts a toe out of line—"
"Then as captain you have the full rights to kick him out," I finished. "Don't worry too much about him, Harry. As long as you catch the snitch then you win. Though, I'm hoping that Hufflepuff will win this time."
"Keep hoping, Margo," Harry teased as I let out a short laugh.
We turned a corner only to be greeted by a peculiar sight ahead. My heart skipped a beat on its own accord as I saw the familiar face of Draco walking towards us, but a frown immediately plastered on my lips when I saw two girls accompanied on either side of him.
He stopped short when he saw Harry and I, looked at the girls on either side of him, and let out a disbelieved laugh. Draco continued to walk as if he wasn't bothered.
I could already feel Harry bubbling with an argument from beside me.
"Where're you going?"
I knew it.
"Yeah, I'm really going to tell you, because it's your business, Potter," he scoffed. "You'd better hurry up, they'll be waiting for 'the Chosen Captain' — 'the Boy Who Scored' — whatever they call you these days."
Despite almost not talking to him for days now, I had to hand it to him: Draco is a creative little shit when it comes to names.
Hearing no reply from Harry, Draco rolled his eyes and pushed past him to walk away, his two unusual companions trailing after him. He didn't even glance at me, not even for a fraction of a second.
A funny feeling I couldn't pinpoint filled my veins. It was hard to distinguish, all I knew is that I felt almost. . .upset.
Deep down I knew I shouldn't have, after all, Draco isn't one to talk to me especially when there were other people present. But then again, he hasn't talked to me in days too, so what was it really?
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[P.S]
ahhhh i feel like i've disappointed y'all with this chapter <\3
this was more a of a filler chapter tbh but the events that occurred (like ron being poisoned and all) will cause quite some changes o.O
also i love the gif at the start sm i just love romione
i rlly hope you guys can bear with this wack chapter ㅠㅠ school has been extremely tiring these days and i'm still trying to find a proper time i can write with this shitty writers block <\3 pain.
i promise i'll make the next chapter more eventful!!!
i love you guys sm <3 keep voting and commenting !! i love seeing ur reactions. y'all are cute af.
— author.
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