"Yeah," Ron agreed, turning his eyes back down to the map with a slow nod. "If you think we can get it done in a day - might as well try, anyway. Just get out as early as possible." There probably wouldn't be an easier time. And as little as he liked the idea of tromping around a graveyard, even while the sun was safely up, it would be worse to wait even longer. He had a feeling that even when Fletcher told the truth, what he said probably didn't always stay true for very long.
As soon as they had one of these bloody things out of the way ... Then what? He glanced at Hermione, then at Harry. They both knew what they were about, almost definitely better than he did, but sometimes he thought they weren't nearly superstitious enough. Maybe it was only paranoia that he'd got from his mother, or maybe it came from being raised around magic, but some things you just knew weren't going to end well. Messing with a piece of someone's being fit that category pretty squarely.