Blimey, he thought to himself. His stomach twisted into knots, and, without fully thinking he thrust the letter behind his back. “Hi Harry,” he said, rushing the words out, tripping over his own voice. “What is that?” He said, his tone was accusatory, he was stepping towards Ron, sneaking really. 

The window was still open, maybe, just maybe, he could throw the letter out and forget about all of it. It would only take a few seconds, milliseconds if he was lucky. “What’s what?” His heart had fallen to the pit of his stomach, beating all through his body, clanging his bones together. And, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Harry could sense it. 

“You know what,” he said. Ron could tell by the subtle ball of his fists and the way his brows knit together that he was angry. 

“I-”

“Why are you lying, Ron?” 

“It’s Tessi-”

“Merlin’s grey beard it's Tessie! You’re lying Ron. Why?” He took a step forward, only a few feet away from Ron. 

He had no idea what to say, he refused to talk about Draco, yet, it felt like he was caught in a trap. What was there to do? He wished, as he had done so often, that he could ask Hermoine. “It’s nothing, okay? Just random letters,” 

“So is that the lie you’re telling now?”

“No, Harry . . .”

“Let me see it.” He said, holding his hand out, “If it’s random I want to see it,” 

“No! I can’t,” Ron took a step backwards, his waist hitting the desk. He felt the cold air from the window tickling his neck, wisping his hair about randomly. He was ridiculous, he thought, but he noted, somewhat sadly, that the snow had stopped falling.

“Just give it,” Harry lunged at him, pouncing like a cat, clawing like a raven. However, before he could, he crumpled the parchment in his hands and threw it out of the window. He watched the wind sweep it away, carrying it's mass. It disappeared amongst the cloud of the white fog outside, growing to be but a distant memory. For some reason, Ron was sad to see it go. 

“Random huh?” He said, “who in the hell even are you? Because you’re definitely not Ron,” he stomped off towards the door, then, just before he left, he faced him. “Call me when he comes back, will you?” And just like that, Ron was alone, staring at the door with so deep a frown that his muscles felt sore. 

He paced about a few times, thinking off something to do, of something to say, anything. But what could he do? What would he say? It was impossible, because, the last, very last thing he would tell him was that he was getting sent poems by Draco Malfoy. He just couldn’t, it would ruin everything. 

Or so he thought. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to think anymore. Up felt like it was down and right felt like it was left. Everything he knew was on its head, his world was shattered. So, he amused himself by crashing in his bed and softly shouting into his pillow. 

___

Ron trailed behind Harry and Hermione, entirely by himself, staring at the snow-covered trees and small animals scurrying about. Harry refused to talk to him, and because of this, Hermione had as well. So, he was alone. Professor Snape was leading them deep into the woods, taking them to a spot that was safe enough so that they could roam freely. The air was muggy, thick like it was going to rain, and Ron felt utterly terrible. 

He wasn’t sick, or anything like that, he just wished he could be there with Harry, talking about how “horrible,” his day with Draco would be. 

It felt like fourth year all over again; petty arguments, needless fights, conjecture purely formed out of nothing. Although, he thought, Harry was justified. After all, from his perspective, he was probably thinking that Ron was hiding some massive, Hogwarts-ending secret. And maybe he was. What did he know? 

Nothing, apparently. “Okay,” Professor Snape said, coming to a stop by a spindly pair of oaks. 

Draco had been walking with Pansy the entire time, and Ron was two disheartened to notice that he couldn’t take his eyes off of him. “This is where we part ways,” he took in a deep breath. “I expect all of you to be back here within the span of three hours, nothing more, nothing less.” At that, Hermoine shot her glove covered hand into the hair, waving it about with angst. “Sir, what if that isn’t enough time to catch the creature? 

Some processes take time and can’t be r-”

“Three hours Granger,” he said, shutting her up instantly. He stared at the class for a few seconds, as if waiting for something to happen. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go.” 

Everyone got in their pairs and hurried off in different directions, disappearing behind the thick brush and tree trunks. “Come on,” Draco said, gesturing to the direction for the two of them to walk. They moved in peaceful harmony, listening to the chirp and creak of the forest, watching as Snape’s dark-clad figure disappeared in the distance. “How do you know where we’re going?” Ron said, dying to break the silence. 

“Travelers charm,” he said, lifting his wand out of his coat pocket. The tip of it was glowing a faint blue color, something that reminded him of his patronus. He moved it in different directions, and, with each turn, the light either grew brighter or more dim. “See," he said, "when the wand is facing the right direction it glows brighter,” 

“Oh,” Ron said, looking down at his feet. He didn’t know what to say. 

His brain felt like it was in shambles, like, he was seconds away from mentally combusting. “What’s wrong?” Draco said, coming to a harsh stop and facing him with concern. “What?” Ron felt surprised by that, had his frown really been that noticeable?

“I can tell somethings wrong, I’m not an idiot,” Ron took a breath, he guessed, there was no point hiding what happened. “Harry saw one of the letters you sent me, and-“

“Now he thinks you're up to something,” Draco said, the idea dawning on him. The hair peeking out from his hat looked as white as it ever had been under the sheet of snow surrounding them. “Is that why he won’t talk to you?” Draco asked, taking a step closer, Ron couldn’t help but feel like he was being interrogated. 

“Exactly,” he said blankly. How was it possible that his face could be so infuriating yet amazing at the same time? Ron almost couldn’t focus, his words felt as if they were coming out jumbled. “Are you going to tell him?” Draco said, he was too close. 

Ron could almost feel his breath, see it in the icy air. “What would I bloody say? ‘Oh just so you know mate Draco sent me a letter with a poem he wrote, how’s quidditch practice?” Ron mocked, his skin was hot, seething just beneath his coat. Draco seemed taken aback by Ron using his name, and, even Ron couldn’t describe the wave of emotions that ran across his face. 

“What do you want to say?” Draco asked, his eyes were on his, slithering over every portion of his face. Ron’s heart was beating so loud, so violently, it made him want to run. He wanted to get lost in the woods, grow tired, sit in a bank of snow, be anywhere that wasn't that moment. But, somewhere deep, deep within him, he knew, he wasn't going anywhere. 

Then, just before Ron had a genuine heart attack, Draco pulled away, lifted his wand, and continued walking. Okay, Ron said to himself, trying his hardest to recoup.

___

 “So, what exactly are we doing?” Ron asked, staring at Draco’s long black coat as they came to a stop. In front of them was a cave, one so big and so dark that Ron was surprised he was willing to even stand close to it. “Do you listen to anything that I say? First, we have to find the bat, then, we cast the shrinking curse, and finally, we cage it.”

“What do we cage it with?” Ron asked, Draco stared at him, eyes wide. “Accio birdcage!” He shouted, holding out his hand. Suddenly, a flash of metal whizzed through the air, stopping just at his pale hand. 

It fell with a clang, and suddenly, Draco was holding a small, open doored cage, one just big enough to fit an owl. It was shining, glimmering in the grey light as if it had been freshly polished. “This bleeding cage Ron. It genuinely astonishes me that you didn’t see me carrying it the entire way.” Ron stared at it, entirely too confused. 

“You did not have that with you, I didn’t see it once,” Draco looked at him for a few seconds, blinking slowly. He turned away and set the cage in the snow, placing his fingers on his temples. 

“No, Ron, but I had it when we were walking with the rest of the class. I left it where Snape was staying.”

“Well, why did you leave it? You could’ve just brought it with you.” Draco stared at him, amazed.

“Because I didn’t feel like carrying it! Merlin, you are infuriating, lets go.” Draco said, grabbing the cage by the handle and hurrying towards the cave. Ron watched him go, his expensive-looking shoes making treads on the ground. He followed him reluctantly, grasping at his wand for some minuscule support. 

The air was even colder inside, and the area was pitch black, like staring into the precipice of absolute nothingness. It was really quite unsettling. “Lumos,” he said quietly, the tip of his wand lighting up, illuminating a small portion of the area. 

The corridor was completely abandoned, apart from the rocks jutting out of the ceiling, and the stalagmites glowing with a vehemence that made Ron slightly less petrified. The purplish blue light would have been beautiful, he thought, that is, if it wasn't for the fact that the rest of it wasn't a death trap. Seriously, one wrong step and he would have been impaled. Their shoes tapped against the stone, echoing throughout the hall off the space. 

Ron heard a subtle screeching in the distance, much like bats, and, without thinking, he gulped. "What exactly are we looking for?" He whispered, his voice quivering a bit. 

"A bat," Draco said, keeping a steady, confident pace by his side. Ron rolled his eyes, "obviously, I mean what does it look like?" Draco sighed, clearly still frustrated, "well it's supposedly big and has a leaf shaped nose that's the extent of my knowledge." 

"What do you mean by supposedly!?" Ron squealed, the blue light of his wand cascading over Draco's cheek. 

"Well, it's a long story, but no one's ever officially seen one,"

"What!? Then how in the bloody hell are we meant to catch it?" He said, his pace becoming even more staggered. "It's going to be okay, I've done my research, unlike some people." Draco said, his scowl illuminated by the light. 

Together they rounded a corner, nothing to hear but their footsteps and scattered breathing. There was a low bellowing noise which echoed through the cave rather suddenly, shocking Ron to his core. It was something like the combination between a roar and shriek, like a fox almost, but also not. It was rather difficult to place. "How do we know when we've found it?" 

Ron whispered, it was barely audible, a dull murmur. "Oh . . . you'll know," he said, continuing forwards. They came to a rather abrupt stop only when their wand light shone on a grouping of fragmented bones. There were skulls, large ones, human, scattered about the floor. Some were in chunks, others were entirely whole, some even had some dried chunks of flesh hanging from them. 

"Ugh," Ron spat under his breath, just soft enough for Draco not to hear. "What do-" Ron cut himself off, standing still, his blood running cold. A pair of red eyes leered at him from the distance, and, all at once he could hear a low snarl bouncing off the walls. "You get the spell ready, I've got the cage," Draco said, looking as if he was ready for war. "Wait, what?" Ron shouted, but, just before he could answer him, the creature lept out from the shadows, it's figure becoming enveloped in light.