Solis

Chapter XXXIII

Ron had a pleasant stay in Diagon Alley after the three of them decided to return. Ron gave his Aunt a kiss on the cheek before joining Ginny at the table as they got ready for dinner. He also packed his books into his bag, and heard ythat Percy's badges were missing. It was then that Ron realized his rat tonic, the potion for his aging rat, had disappeared as well.

Harry entered the room and handed the rat tonic back to Ron. 

"Thanks!" Ron exclaimed, relieved."I almost panicked. Scabbers won't be as good-looking without this potion, and no rats will be smitten with him anymore!" But as their hands make a contact, the redhead shot Harry a brief, concerned glance.

"Are you okay?" 

Harry blinked at him. "Er, yes?"

"Nothing," Ron replied. "I'll go help find Percy his badge."

Ron didn't quite manage to pack his things properly; he woke up early as usual to do it, so he was feeling a bit tired during breakfast. Also, Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, enjoys bullying Scabbers, so Ron had to place the rat on his head, and strangely, it felt somewhat comforting to have something on your head.

They used a car owned by the Ministry due to a specific circumstance related to Harry's situation. Finally, the Ministry drivers assisted them with their belongings and he joined Harry, Hermione, and Percy in the back of the car.

They eventually arrived at the Hogwarts Express, and Aunt Molly kissed each of them on the cheeks as she handed them sandwiches. Ron and Hermione entered a compartment and waited for Harry to join them as the train let out a loud whistle but Arthur seemed to be engaged in a conversation with Harry about something important, and eventually, Harry hurried over to join them.

Ron was already happily munching on his sandwich, because anything his aunt made was the best. Harry looked like he wanted to say something, so they began searching for an empty compartment. They immediately found one, but there was a sleeping man there next by the window. The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard’s robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.

"This man needs a good rest and some food!" Ron exclaimed as they settled into the compartment.

"Ron," Hermione hissed.

"What?" Ron asked with a mouthful of sandwich. "Is he a student too?"

"He's an adult," Hermione said, her eyes narrowing as she read the man's case. "Professor R. J. Lupin."

"A new teacher?" Ron asked.

"Perhaps, for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry replied.

"That's good news," Hermione sighed. "Anyway, Harry, what were you going to tell us?"

Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. When he’d finished, Ron looked calm, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, “Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry… you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go looking for trouble, Harry—” 

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” Harry said, nettled. “Trouble usually finds me. ”

Ron, who could relate to the situation, shrugged. "He'll be fine," He said then gave a grin. "Unless he's really that stupid..."

Hermione, still in shock at being more scared than Harry, made the situation somewhat amusing. Suddenly, they heard a noise coming from Harry's trunk. Ron quickly pulled it out and opened it.

"Oh, the Sneakoscope!" he exclaimed. The Sneakoscope was glowing brightly and emitting a piercing whistle.

“Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?” Hermione asked shrewdly.

Ron frowned at her. "Don't be like that to me. What a bully."

The bushy-haired girl crossed her arms. "Well, that's a Sneakoscope. It won't light up if there's no one untrustworthy nearby."

"Well, maybe it was that man, or Harry," Ron muttered as he put the Sneakoscope back in Harry's trunk.

“Hey.“ Harry interjected. 

"Well, speaking of Hogsmeade, are you two looking forward to visiting the place?" Hermione sighed.

Ron nodded eagerly. Third years were finally allowed to go to Hogsmeade, a village just outside Hogwarts with lots of shops. Ron was excited to see Honeydukes and Zonko's Joke Shop. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't go because the Dursleys didn't sign his permission form.

Ron took out his ballpoint pen from his jacket. "Let's sign it."

"No, you can't," Hermione said firmly.

"But—"

"With Black on the loose, I don't think Harry should be going outside," Hermione explained, concern in her voice.

"I'll punch Black if he tries to harm Harry," Ron glared at Hermione. "Harry's going to go crazy stuck in the castle! Do you want to see him end up in a psychopath ward just because of schoolwork?"

"Hey," Harry interjected again.

“Oh, Ron, don’t talk rubbish,” snapped Hermione. “Black’s already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think you could punch him just like that?“ She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks’s basket as she spoke. 

“No! Hermionie!” Ron shrieked, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron’s head.

In the end, Ron had a cut on his cheek, and Scabbers had sought refuge inside Ron's jacket. Ron gently patted Crookshanks' back as the cat settled onto his lap instead. They fell into a hushed silence, especially when Professor Lupin stirred in his sleep but didn't awaken.

At one o’clock, the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door as she handed cauldron cakes to them. They ate in silence until they heard footsteps approaching outside their compartment.

“Well, look who it is,” Draco said in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. 

"Hi," Ron greeted Draco. "Don't be mean today, Draco."

Draco scowled at him and crossed his arms. “Well, I heard your uncle finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Prewett,” He said. “Did your aunt die of shock?”

"More like dying of happiness, dude," Ron replied, handing his cauldron cake to Crabbe, who accepted it eagerly.

"Don't touch that," Draco snapped, slapping Crabbe's arm as the cauldron cake nearly fell into his hand.

"Hey, don't be mean to him," Ron protested, while Crookshanks hissed at them.

"And who do you think you are, Prewett, to tell me what to do?" Draco retorted.

Professor Lupin let out a snort, drawing their attention—and that made Draco to hurriedly exit their compartment, as he wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight with a teacher inside. The remaining three of them stayed silent, and Ron gradually drifted off to sleep while gazing out the window.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Ron awoke in a state of alarm and immediately stood up. His instincts told him to prepare for a fight.

"Ron?" Hermione called.

"I can sense it," the redhead replied.

Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. 

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

Ron hates the darkness; he couldn't see properly. In his haste, he accidentally stepped on Hermione's feet. Suddenly, the compartment door swung open, and someone tumbled in, landing by their feet. It was Neville. Shortly after, someone else fell inside; it was Ginny, accompanied by Luna.

“Guys!“ Ron said.

“Ron—where are you—”

“I'm here.“

“Ow!“

“Who's that?“

“Ginny?“

“Come in and sit down—” 

“Not here!” Harry said hurriedly. “I’m here!” 

“Ouch!” Neville said.

“Quiet!” said a hoarse voice suddenly. Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. None of them spoke. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. ProfessorLupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. 

They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

“Stay where you are,” he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him. But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin’s hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood.

Then, as the cloaked figure looked around their compartment, Harry suddenly fell from his seat. Ron immediately knelt down beside Harry, and Professor Lupin quickly drew his wand. But before Lupin could react, Ron shouted angrily, "Stay away!" The cloaked figure looked at him and swiftly flew backward, disappearing into thin air as the Hogwarts Express began moving again.

Professor Lupin appeared surprised by Ron's actions, but Hermione knelt down beside Harry and tried to wake him.

"Harry!" Hermione said urgently, slapping his face.

"W—what?" Harry blinked in confusion as they helped him back into his seat.

"You don't look okay," Ron observed, checking his condition.

Harry seemed confused as he explained that he had heard some screams—but they don't heard any screaming. Then a loud snap made them all jump, Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

“Here,” Professor Lupin said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. “Eat it. It’ll help.” 

Harry took the chocolate but didn’t eat it. “What was that thing?” he asked Lupin. 

“A dementor,” said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else.

“One of the dementors of Azkaban.” Everyone stared at him. 

“Is it looking for Black?“ Ron asked.

“Yes,” Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket. 

“Eat,” he repeated. “It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…” as he walked out of the compartment.

Ginny was sobbing and huddled in the corner where Ron had been sitting earlier. Luna and Hermione were comforting her. Harry was shivering in his own seat as Ron sighed and sat beside him, holding his best friend's hands tightly.

"You're warm," Harry said.

"Of course I am," Ron replied. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah... yeah," Harry replied wearily as Ron cupped Harry's cheeks to warm them. Harry leaned into the warmth, closing his eyes. He appeared vulnerable in this state, like a child in need of comfort and warmth. Suddenly, they heard a clearing of the throat, and both of them jumped.

Professor Lupin had come back, looking at them, and said, with a small smile, “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know…”

🔆

Ron joined the other students in the Great Hall when Professor McGonagall called Harry and Hermione to her office. He saved a seat for them and enjoyed watching the first years being sorted into their respective houses.

Finally, his two best friends walked into the Great Hall, drawing the attention of everyone. Ron gave them a worried look as Harry and Hermione sat on either side of him. A few people were pointing at Harry and whispering. Finally, Professor Dumbledore stood up, beaming at all of them.

“Welcome!” said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…” 

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.” He paused for a moment before continuing.

 “They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore said. “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Cloaks,” he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. 

“It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors,” he said.

After that, Professor Dumbledore introduced Professor Lupin as their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Hagrid as their Care of Magical Creatures teacher, as the previous teacher, Professor Kettleburn, had retired. They all applauded for Hagrid, and now Ron understood why they had thay monstrous book.

Ron was excited to see the first-year Gryffindors as he waved at them the next morning while getting ready as they gathered together in the common room.

"Is it true that Harry Potter collapsed on the train?" one of them asked.

"What? Who told you that?" Ron responded, surprised.

"She did," the boy pointed to the girl beside him.

"Hey, I didn't!" the girl protested. "I heard it from my friend in Hufflepuff."

"So what if he did?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. The first-years looked at each other nervously. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Sorry," another first-year boy said.

"Pfft. It's alright to ask. Well, you know about Dementors, they are dangerous, it could be one of you next," Ron explained.

"No! I hate Dementors, they're scary," one of the first-years exclaimed.

"Well, don't go sneaking outside the castle," Ron advised. "Why are you five up so early in the morning?"

The first-years told him that they're excited to learn magics, bouncing with enthusiasm as they asked Ron about what to expect in their first year but tey were only interrupted when other students began emerging out from their dormitories. Harry was one of them and Ron couldn't help but notice him, who had just finished putting on his robes. He had grown taller, but Harry's hair was still as unruly as ever, refusing to be tamed by a comb. 

They waited for Hermione before the three of them went together to the Great Hall for breakfast and to get their schedules. Ron was confused when he saw Hermione's schedule, which have three different classes at the once. How that could even be possible?

After finishing their breakfast, they hurried to their first class, which was located in the North Tower. But they struggled to find it, and Ron tried to mentally map Hogwarts and visualize a compass to navigate. Despite their efforts, they ended up in yet another empty corridor.

Bless the knight, Sir Cadogan, in the painting, who talked and offered them assistance. He guided them to their Divination classroom. Climbing the spiraling stairs, they reached a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, which seemed to be the entrance to the classroom because they could hear the voices of students coming from within.

They emerged into the strangest-lookin. In fact, it didn’t look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone’s attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. 

It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and huge array of teacups.

"I love it!" Ron exclaimed, but a pang of sadness hit him as he thought about how much his dad would have loved the place.

“Welcome,” it said. “How nice to see you in the physical world at last.” Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.

“Sit, my children, sit,” she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat themselves around the same round table.

“Welcome to Divination,” said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. “My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye.” 

Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, “So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field…”

Ron sat patiently, doing his best not to fidget during Professor Trelawney's class. But he couldn't help but frown when the professor gave Parvati a warning about a "beware of a red-haired man," causing the girl to move her chair away from him. 

They were divided into pairs, and Ron and Harry paired themselves together. When they both had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.

Ron opened the book and peered at the teacup while Harry mentioned that he only saw a bunch of soggy brown in Ron's cup as he concentrated on the cup.

"Uh, this looks like a... dog." Harry began, observing the cup

"A dog? What does it say there?" Ron asked, curious.

Harry consulted his copy of "Unfogging the Future" and said, "Dogs represent 'Loyalty in Companionship.' Wait, uh, a scissor, no, a shear."

"Shear?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, shear," Harry replied, flipping through the pages of the book. "Shear means 'Bound by Fate,' so you must remain loyal to your companions because destiny has bound you together," Harry remarked.

"Okay," Ron said, frowning as he concentrated on Harry's cup. "Oh, wait, you've got a one on your cup too, a bowler hat. I think you're going to work or something. I've seen people wearing bowler hats at the Leaky Cauldron."

Ron turned the cup in another direction. "An acorn... 'A windfall, Unexpected Gold.' You're going to have a lot of gold, nice! Oh, and another one, it's an animal too... uhh, a sheep, no, uh," 

Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry let out a snort of laughter. 

“Let me see that, my dear,” she said reprovingly to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry’s cup from him. Everyone went quiet to watch. Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counterclockwise. “The falcon… my dear, you have a deadly enemy.” 

“But everyone knows that, ” Hermione said in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her. 

“Well, they do,” Hermione added. “Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who.”

Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry’s cup again and continued to turn it. “The club…an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…The skull…danger in your path, my dear…”

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed. 

There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed. 

“My dear boy…my poor, dear boy…no…it is kinder not to say…no…don’t ask me…” 

“What is it, Professor?” said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry and Ron’s table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney’s chair to get a good look at Harry’s cup. 

“My dear,” Professor Trelawney’s huge eyes opened dramatically, “you have the Grim.”

“The what?” said Harry.

Everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror. “The Grim, my dear, the Grim!” cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn’t understood. “The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen — the worst omen—of death!”

"Dogs? But that can't be, I got a dog too. Is it really different from the Grim?" Ron said, clearly confused. "And it means loyalty..."

Professor Trelawney took Ron's cup, but to everyone's surprise, she dropped it, and the cup crashed to the floor. Everyone in the classroom jumped, trying to avoid the pieces of the shattered cup. Then, unexpectedly, she knelt down and clutched Ron's arm desperately and tightly, leaving everyone in shock.

"She has spoken."

"Whoa—"

"The day is drawing near when the descendant shall falter, and the prophecy shall arise. You must save us, save us all!" Professor Trelawney proclaimed.

"Professor—"

"Oh dear, my lord—forgive me, as I have made a great mistake in my life. Spare me!"

Harry stood up, removing Ron's arm from Professor Trelawney's tight grip. The professor's eyes remained wide open, but her senses quickly returned to her.

"My apologies, dear," she said, standing up and seemingly snapping out of her previous trance. The students in the classroom continued to stared at her. “I didn't know what came after me, I think we will leave the lesson here for today,” said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. “Yes…please pack away your things…”

Ron massaged his arm where Professor Trelawney had gripped him tightly as they moved on to their next class. Harry didn't sit beside him, which left Ron feeling concerned. After the Transfiguration class, the three of them walked together toward the Great Hall. 

They ate their lunch in silence, but Hermione noticed Ron's worried expression and told him to cheer up. Ron shook his head, looking anxious as he ate his stew.

"You don't understand," Ron began, "when someone tells you a piece of your future, it could be dangerous—especially when it mentions 'death.'.“

"That doesn't necessarily mean you have to believe it; perhaps it's all just coincidence. Look at Harry—he's still alive!" Hermione argued.

"Well, unless he saw a dog—"

"I did see one," Harry interjected. "At the Dursleys'."

"See?"

"So? It could have been a stray," Hermione replied calmly.

"You don't understand," Ron insisted. "The future is uncertain; there's a chance Harry could die."

"You can't simply predict someone's future, Ron. Divination is rubbish, filled with uncharted types of magic. Why do you even believe in such a thing?"

"Magic is real, and so is Divination," Ron said, glaring at her.

"Then what do you expect me to do? Poke around in tea leaves and sit around all day?"

"We certainly didn't sit around all day in Divination earlier," 

"Professor McGonagall herself has said it," Hermione pointed out. "Trelawney has been foretelling omens to the students every year since she arrived—she just wanted to frighten us, and I still hold my own opinion and I stick to my own beliefs, and I do not care—its rubbish—so would you mind?“ then she opened her Arithmancy book.

"Maybe Professor Trelawney is right, that you have a little of an aura—you just don't want to accept it because you're afraid of being finally bad at something," Ron retorted. His comment caused Hermione to slammed her book shut, clearly frustrated, he knew he had touched a nerve when Hermione snatched her bag, and angrily stomped out of the Great Hall.

The two of them didn't exchange words after their argument, and call Ron stupid. He couldn't just help but feel offended by the notion that Divination was nonsense to few of them. He found it hard to believe that they were called wizards but didn't believe in prophecies and such.

Harry remained silent behind them as they walked outside the castle to their next class, Care of Magical Creatures. They were in class with Slytherins as theu reached the edge of the forest, beyond a fence. Hagrid explained them how to open the monstrous book by gently stroking it. Ron's book tried to bite him eagerly at first but stopped when Ron gave it a stern look, so he didn't have to stroke it.

“Righ’ then,” Hagrid said, who seemed to have lost his thread, “so—so yeh’ve got yer books an’—an’ now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I’ll go an’ get ’em. Hang on…” He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

“Oooooooh!” squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock. Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

“Gee up, there!” he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

Ron exclaimed, "Gryphons?" Three of the creatures reacted with a wince, clearly offended.

“Hyppogriffs.“ Hagrid corrected nervously. “Beau’iful, aren’ they?” he added waving at them. 

They all observed the creatures inside the paddock, but no one dared to get too close. Hagrid explained that these creatures were easily offended (thanks to Ron's earlier comment that offends them). He instructed them that the first thing to do was to bow and wait. If the Hippogriff reciprocated with a bow, then they could touch them.

Ron, his excitement evident, asked, "Can we ride them?"

“Course' ye can,” Hagrid replied. “Who wants ter go first?“

Ron eagerly raised his hand and exclaimed, "Me! Me!" while Harry calmly stated, "I'll do it."

The two exchanged glances. Behind them, there was a collective sharp intake of breath, and Hermione gave them both a surprised look.

Ron was curious about how fast a hippogriff could be, so he and Harry climbed the fence. Hagrid appeared pleased with their willingness and brought over two hippogriffs for them.

“Right then—let’s see how yeh two get on with Buckbeak and Figglefig.”

Ron giggled, “That's a cute name.“

He untied two of the chains, pulled the gray hippogriff and brown hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath.

Hagrid instructed them to make eye contact without blinking, emphasizing that Hippogriffs wouldn't trust them if they blinked.

Ron tried his best to make eye contact, but his ADHD caused him to blink repeatedly, which agitated Figglefig, making it appear ready to attack. Nervously, Hagrid told Ron to back away, but to their surprise, the Hippogriff advanced, bowing and lowering its beak to the ground.

“Look, I did it!“ Ron said happily. “Let's go!“

“No—Ron, ye can't, ye need to pat—well, done—Harry, pat his beak, go on! Ron—”

The redhead dashed towards the Hippogriff, effortlessly climbing onto its back as if mounting a Pegasus.

"Ron—!" Hagrid shouted.

But they were already soaring into the sky. Ron guided the Hippogriff to the left, heading towards the castle. They landed on top of one of the castle's towers, granting Ron a view of the entire area. The sun was setting high in the clear blue sky, and it was quite windy up there.

Ron hoped he could stay there for an hour; it was peaceful up on the tower, and the view was spectacular. He gently stroked Figglefig's head, and the Hippogriff purred contentedly.

"Whoa, are you really that proud that I climbed on you?" Ron asked as Figglefig flapped its wings excitedly.

"They shouldn't have chained you; look at your neck," Ron sighed. "They should have provided you with a proper stable or something." Sadly, they were still dangerous creatures, which was why they had to be chained up and kept away from people.

Ron returned to where the others were, just after Harry, and received cheers from everyone. He climbed down from Figglefig. "Nice work, Fig. Take care of the others, and don't bite them if they make a mistake!" he said

The others cautiously climbed into the fence, emboldened by their success, while Hagrid removed the other hippogriffs' chains as Hermione took Figglefig, bowing nervously.

"How's the fly?" Ron asked, approaching Harry with enthusiasm.

"It's fine," Harry replied, satisfied, as he observed the other students. "You really surprised us there, you know."

"Really?"

"It's as if the Hippogriffs know you quite well. How'd you even manage that?" Harry questioned.

"It seems like the Hippogriff took a liking to me," Ron said, waggling his eyebrows, which made Harry snort. "And it's faster than a broom," he added.

"No way," Harry responded. "But at least you convinced them that Hippogriffs are safe to ride."

"Ooooh, is that a compliment?" Ron teased.

Harry shrugged, his mouth forming into a smile, Ron blinked and he felt his face warm slightly as he fidgeted. Ron was about to say something when a high-pitched scream pierced the air, and he recognized that sound immediately. Without hesitation, Ron rushed toward where Malfoy lay, blood staining his robes, while the rest of the class descended into panic.

Hagrid's face turned pale as Ron knelt beside Draco. "Let me," Ron said.

"Don't touch me!" Draco snapped.

Ignoring Draco's protest, Ron lightly smacked his head, causing Draco to yelp in pain. Ron then unrolled Draco's robe, revealing the wound, which made everyone step back in shock. Ron swiftly retrieved a canteen of water, a clean towel, and a bandage from his robe. He applied the towel to the bleeding wound to stop the blood flow.

"Breathe for me," Ron instructed firmly.

Draco looked horrified. "No! You're killing me—"

"I'm not killing you, you idiot! Do you want to die? You have a nasty cut, not too deep, but it's a big wound. We need to stop the bleeding before we can take you to the Hospital Wing," Ron said urgently.

Draco remained silent but took a sharp breath when Ron applied pressure with the towel to the wound, immediately stopping the bleeding. Ron checked the wound and cleaned it slightly before applying a bandage.

Draco hissed in pain as he moved his arm. His Slytherin friends, helped him to his feet and guided him back towards the castle, with Pansy crying and Hagrid following closely behind 

"Eek," Ron exclaimed when he noticed the blood on his robes. Lavender squeaked when she saw the blood too.

"You should take that off!" she told him.

"Bloody hell, Ron. Always full of surprises, aren't you?" Dean remarked, looking like he might vomit at the sight of Ron's bloodied hands. "Living out your life as a doctor?"

Neville appeared close to fainting as Hermione grasped Ron's arm. "We should head to the bathroom, Harry, come on," she said.

🔆

It wasn't good news after that. The governors had been informed about what happened, and Ron frowned in frustration. He couldn't believe they were making such a big deal out of it. They should have been pleased because it was a valuable lesson for the students, teaching them to be cautious around Hippogriffs in case of future incidents. After all, Draco's wound wasn't life-threatening.

Hagrid explained that Madam Pomfrey was surprised to find Draco's wound cleaned and well-bandaged. She had checked Draco's condition and provided some little healing. Hagrid became emotional as he recounted what happened and hugged Ron tightly, in a bone-crushing embrace. However, he quickly realized that they were still outside the castle, which meant Harry was also outside, and that wasn't allowed. So, Hagrid panicked and ushered them out and then escorted them back to the castle.

The next day, Ron was confused to see Draco still wearing a sling. Harry told him that Draco was just pretending and faking it.

"That's—what you call it, ridiculous," Ron remarked.

"He's ridiculous," Harry agreed.

In potions class, Draco positioned his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron's, so they ended up preparing their ingredients on the same table.

“Sir,” He called, “sir, I’ll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm—” 

“Weasley, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,” Snape said without looking up. 

"What? I literally healed your wound just yesterday," Ron narrowed his eyes at Draco.

Draco smirked across the table. "So? Now go on, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots."

Ron reluctantly took his roots and began cutting them, finding it quite torturous. The situation obly worsened when Professor Snape instructed Harry to peel Draco's shrivelfig and Ron could sense his best friend's anger when he realized that Draco was faking his injured arm to try and get Hagrid fired.

“I hate you,” Ron said.

“Likewise, Prewett.“

“I really really hate you, you stupid monkey face—”

The Potion class ended with Ron playfully poking Draco's arm, much to Draco's annoyance he swatted the redhead's hands away. Then, Seamus suddenly leaned over to them and mentioned about a sight of Sirius—not far from Hogwarts.

"If I were you, Potter, I would take revenge," Draco said, listening to them. 

It was funny how it hadn't even been a week into the first term, and everything was already full of surprises. One of those surprises was Hermione. The bushy-girl had suddenly disappeared out of nowhere behind and then reappeared looking exhausted and hungry, as if she hadn't eaten in two days.

"Is it just me, or does Hermione seem like she's hiding something?" Ron whispered to Harry as they made their way to their next class after lunch.

"Maybe," Harry replied blandly.

Ron looked at him with concern. "Dude. Are you still thinking about what Draco said earlier?"

Harry tilted his head, "Well—I don't even know what he's talking about, this talk of revenge and all—and its confusing me, and I don't even understand why Sirius is after me. It's maddening sometimes," he said exasperatedly. "They always expect me to do something, don't even know why everyone thinks I would go looking for him,"

“Will you?“ Ron asked.

"If I hear one more 'don't go looking for him,' I might just do it," Harry remarked.

"Don't go looking for him then."

"Alright, I'll do it," 

"Hurry up, you two," Hermione snapped impatiently, in front of them. 

Professor Lupin wasn’t there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room.

Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher’s desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals. 

“Good afternoon,” he said. “Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands.” 

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books.

“Right then,” Professor Lupin said, when everyone was ready. “If you’d follow me.”

Ron felt like he might have found a favorite teacher, especially when they saw Peeves floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum as Professor Lupin led them down a corridor. Professor Lupin used a spell to make the gum fly towards Peeves' left nostril as the poltergeist zoomed away when he refused to leave.

"Do you remember the spell?" Dean whispered to Ron excitedly.

"Wadasisi?" Ron said, looking confused.

"You mean, Waddiwasi?" Hermione corrected him.

Professor Lupin then led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door. “Inside, please,” he said, opening it and standing back.
 
The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low
armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth.

 As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, “Leave it open, 
Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.”

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, “Possibly no
one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless
Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.” 

Neville went scarlet as Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows. “I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation,” he said, “and I am sure he will perform it admirably.”

Neville’s face went, if possible, even redder. Snape’s lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

“Good riddance,” Ron said as Professor Lupin beckoned them towards the end of the room, there was only an old wardrobe there as Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

“Nothing to worry about,” said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. “There’s a boggart in there.” 

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively. 

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces,” said Professor Lupin. “Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks—I’ve even met one that
had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my
third years some practice.“

“So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?” He asked.

“It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.” 

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. “So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.“

Ron quickly backed away, sweat forming on his brow as he fidgeted nervously. Like Neville, both of them had looks of terror on their faces. Professor Lupin then explained the spell they would be using, and he called Neville forward. It was the worst part, as the Boggart would transform into the thing they were most afraid of.

“If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn,” Professor Lupin said. “I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…”

As the room fell silent, he struggled to think. It wasn't just the snake that scared him the most; it was a flood of terrifying memories invilving, giants, Kronos, Gaia, and everything that had taken the lives of his siblings and friends. Ron winced, unable to think clearly.

As Professor Lupin asked if they were ready, Ron's stomach churned with nervousness. He looked around and saw everyone else nodding, rolling up their sleeves, and getting ready. Ron took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“Neville, we’re going to back away,” Professor Lupin said. “Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward…Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot—”

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the
sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready. 

“On the count of three, Neville,” said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. “One—two—three—now!”

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor
Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville. 
Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes. 

“R—r—riddikulus!” squeaked Neville. There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag. 

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, “Parvati! Forward!”

Seamus faced the Boggart next after Parvati, and it transformed into a banshee. Seamus shouted "Riddikulus," and it turned into a rat that chased its tail in a circle. Dean was called forward next and hurried to face the Boggart.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab. 

“Riddikulus!” Dean yelled.
 
There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap. “Excellent! Ron, you next!”

Ron's heart felt like it might leap out of his chest as he scrambled forward, his wand at the ready, desperately wishing for the Boggart to transform into something, like a snake so he could turn it to a balloon. He heard a loud crack, and braced himself but when the dust cleared, there stood the all-too-familiar teenager before him.

The room had darkened as everyone anticipated the Boggart to transform into something funny, like Professor Snape earlier. But Ron froze, his eyes widening in shock as he saw his dead friend—Luke Castellan. There he stood, panting and looking terribly weak, with shriveled hair, bruised and bleeding skin, and tattered clothes. Luke clutched his weapon, Backbiter, in his hand.

"Now, now, Ron," the twisted illusion of Luke said with a dark chuckle. "You wouldn't want your friends to find out, would you?"

"Ron!" Professor Lupin shouted urgently.

"Funny, thinking that holding that stick will save you from them," the illusion continued menacingly. "When the time comes and you fail, not only will your kind perish, but Zeus will strike down your dear father from his throne—"

“R-Riddikulus—” Ron began shakingly. 

The illusion of Luke continued its cruel taunting as he stepped forward, "And you'll witness just how naive Hecate is. You won't dare take the quest. You're weak, and you're destined to die. You'll betray both the families you once called your own."

Ron couldn't bear it anymore and stepped forward. “RIDDIKULUS!“ he shouted the spell angrily, causing the Boggart to explode into smoke and vanish. Ron's tears streamed down his face as Professor Lupin quickly dismissed the class. Harry and Hermione rushed to his side, helping him to his feet and out of the classroom. 

Ron stayed in his dormitory for two days, refusing to leave after that. His friends in the same room couldn't sleep well because they always heard him crumpling a paper, scratching on it, and muttering to himself, clearly struggling with something.

Harry was the only one who consistently checked on Ron during those two days, respecting his need for privacy by not opening the curtain and would often bring a plate of Ron's favorite bacon and a glass of milk.

"Can I now come in?" He heard Harry's voice outside.

"No," Ron replied.

"Well, I've got your favorites," Harry said, and he pulled out his hands outside the curtains as Harry handed him a plate of bacon and a glass of milk, sighing in response. "What on earth are you even doing?" Harry asked.

"I'm plotting," Ron replied.

"Plotting for what exactly?" Harry asked.

"I'm plotting how to destroy this someone before they can destory us," 

"Ron," Harry said with concern, "we're all worried about you. Hermione can't concentrate on her homework without mentioning how you are. Professor Lupin was also looking for you, err, regarding the boggarts..."

"Tell him to forget what he saw. Say it was just an actor from a horror movie," Ron suggested.

"I don't think that'll work," Harry replied. "Look, you can tell me—you know..."

There was a moment of silence, and Ron could sense Harry's discomfort on the other side of the curtain. Ron let out a heavy sigh. "Look, that guy is none of your concern. He's just an old friend of mine from New York."

"Then why is he your Boggart?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Ron replied. "Maybe because...ugh, you know what? Why do you even care?"

"Because I'm your best friend," Harry replied. "And without you, well, I'm kind of...lost, is that the word? Uh, that's it."

Ron's face turned to pink, and he knew Harry's face did too. There was another silence, and Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "Fine. I'll...come back later," but before he could leave, Ron opened the curtains and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Do you mean…that?"

Harry, whose face was still pink, tried to answer, "I, yeah, I do."

"Okay," Ron said, "I'll go now."

🔆

Ron's sudden appearance in class after being absent for two days surprised everyone. Hermione, who had been worrying about him, scolded him for missing classes, but her relief at seeing him well was obvious. Ron had missed three homework assignments during his absence, and Hermione kindly helped him catch up on the work.

The next day, Ron knocked on Professor Lupin's office door. After a moment's pause, the door opened, as he handed his missed essay about Boggarts to him. The professor motioned for Ron to take a seat in one of the chairs.

"Chocolate?" Professor Lupin offered.

"I'm good," Ron declined. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Straight to the point, are you?" Professor Lupin gave him a gentle smile as he settled into his chair. "Just like Margaretta."

Ron's ears perked up. "Margaretta? You know my mother...?"

"I do," Professor Lupin confirmed. "She was a prefect and head back in her time, a very bright young woman, if you ask me."

"Is she a Gryffindor too?" Ron asked, his curiosity piqued. He realized he knew very little about his mother aside from her name and family.

Professor Lupin shook his head. "She was a Ravenclaw."

"Oh," Ron replied happily. "That's nice."

He clasped his hands tightly at the table. "I heard about what happened to you, well, from the Daily Prophet. It's good to see that you're alive and doing well, and living with the Weasleys," Professor Lupin said. "I take it Harry convinced you to come out?"

Ron snorted, "It's Harry."

Professor Lupin chuckled. "You're right. Let's see..." he said, leaning in. "Tell me, Ron. Are you having any troubles outside Hogwarts?"

"What trouble?" Ron asked.

“Anything.“

"No," Ron replied. "Sir, I know you wanted to talk about what happened with the boggart, but I'm fine. It's just someone."

"And that's alarming. I don't know what your boggart is trying to convey, Ron, but it's concerning that it's using such a word."

"You mean the 'dead' stuff."

Professor Lupin didn't seem to appreciate that. "Well, yes. It is rare for a boggart to speak; mostly, they just appear there and try to scare you. But if you're truly afraid of something and afraid of failing because of it, they will talk to threaten and intimidate you," Professor Lupin explained.

Ron shook his head vigorously. "You can't. I-I'm not scared of him; I would never be scared of him," he said, clutching the bead bracelet on his wrist just below Kayla's watch, which she had gifted him before.

"But you're scared of the words your boggart spoke, Ron. I know it's a lot—"

"So, you're telling me you think I'm being verbally abused or something?"

"Yes, and—"

Ron stood up abruptly. "You don't understand! He is not—" he stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "You don't know anything. Why do I even bother? I'm leaving," he said taking his bag.

Professor Lupin stood up and tried to call Ron back, but Ron had already stormed out of the office, not realizing that Harry was waiting for him outside with Hermione.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked as they followed him.

"Bad," Ron replied. "I don't wanna talk about it.“

"So, are you still going to carry on with that plotting of yours?" Harry elbowed him.

"Maybe I will," Ron replied reluctantly. "Hermione, can I borrow your notes for...what the, where the heck is she?" he exclaimed as Hermione disappeared again behind them. 

Ron continued attending his classes, but Professor McGonagall was curious about his two-day absence. Ron did his best to explain without mentioning boggarts, and fortunately, she accepted his explanation and left him to it. As he left her office, he couldn't help but notice the sunflower on her desk.

"You should give that plant a drink; it's starving for it," Ron remarked.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him. "I shall, Mr. Prewett. Now, go along, and I expect you not to skip class again."

"Yes, ma'am," Ron replied.

In the coming days, the news about Hogsmeade finally reached them when they noticed the date posted on the old bulletin board, indicating when they could visit. Unfortunately, Harry didn't have the necessary permission, and Hermione told him that it is better if he stay inside the castle, while Ron disagreed, considering it unfair. Ron suggested that Harry should try to get Professor McGonagall's permission, but she also declined to sign it.

Ron was patting Scabbers when he suggested to Harry that he should tried to use the invisibility cloak to sneak outside one afternoon in the common room.

"Don't you recall what Professor Dumbledore warned us about? Even with the Invisibility Cloak, Dementors can see through it," Hermione said as Crookshanks escaped her grasp and lunged at Ron's lap but Scabbers managed to evade the attack, and the two of them began chasing each other in circles in the common room.

"You know what," Ron began, "I'm not going anymore."

Harry looked up from his homework, furrowing his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm staying here with you."

"But what about Hermione?"

"Oh, do you two really think I'll be upset just being alone?" Hermione huffed. "I'll go with Lavender and Parvati. They kept inviting me to visit Gladrags Wizardwear with them."

"That's good," Ron said. "So what do you think, Harry?"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "I mean, I like it, but you don't have to. I'll be fine."

"Psh.“

"Really, Ron. It's fine," Harry sighed. "Just go."

"Okay, fine, I'm coming with the girls," the redhead said.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"What, I can't?"

"Well, it's...girls?"

"So what? I've had a lot of friends who were girls. Right, Harry?" Ron looked at his best friend.

Harry glanced between them and said, "Well, um, yeah."

Hermione, still not entirely convinced, reluctantly agreed, "Fine, you'll be coming with us."