Date: December 7, 1997 Characters: Harry, Ron and Hermione Location: Hogwarts Private/Semi-Private/Public: Private Summary: Harry and Ron have an argument.
"The Weasleys don't need anymore of their kids injured, do they?"
Whatever relief he felt at hearing about Ginny's punishment evaporated with the non-reaction from Harry. He seemed to think the whole thing was a laugh! Hagrid might not be Snape but there was plenty in the Forbidden Forest to worry about: rogue Blast-Ended Skrewts and Centaurs and Aragog's mental family. And if she was trying to steal the sword - and Neville was helping her instead of stopping her - what other trouble had she been in? What if she'd done something after that and Snape had decided not to make the same mistake in handing her punishment off to Hagrid? When Harry began questioning the portrait without bothering to ask more about Ginny or the rest of his family, Ron decided he'd had enough. Vividly aware that neither of them even noticed his leaving, he walked over to his bunk.
"...anymore of their kids injured..."
Ron turned the phrase over and over again in his head. Maybe they meant him but they didn't make sense, he was supposed to be laid up with spattergoit not injured. No, someone else had been hurt; with his family, what were the odds otherwise? Bill was in the Order, Charlie was all the way in Romania working with dragons and in the Order as well, Percy was the stupid prat who had stayed at the Ministry despite it being taken over by Death Eaters and Fred and George... were Fred and George. They could all be injured for all he knew but Harry couldn't even bother to ask, could he? It was all about that bloody sword and Harry wishing for Dumbledore to come back and tell him what to do.
Glancing over at them as they talked excitedly about the sword - still not caring that he wasn't there - something dark and ugly rose inside of him. Maybe Harry just didn't care about Ginny period. Maybe he'd thrown her over for someone else.
Try as he might to dismiss his nightmares as just that, as nothing more than the locket messing with his head, Ron couldn't ignore what was right in front of him.