REQUIEM - [h.p]

III; where there's a will

| YEAR 3; CHAPTER SEVEN |
WHERE THERE IS A WILL

     THE CREATURE WAS STANDING AT THE CORNER OF THE HALLS. Its ears moved side to side towards any sound that came near it. Despite the instinctual jitteriness and caution it held, the rodent remained unaware of the presence creeping ever-so nearer. The moment realization hit, it was far too late for its small form to react.

Adrenaline soaked the conscience of a forgotten individual. Could it be that he was finally discovered? Beaded eyes stared at the face of the stranger who had gone to pick him off the icy cold ground of the school's halls. Relief pooled from every fibre of his being as he saw the young, curious stare of a student. It seems as though He still remained dead to all but one.

"Sorry little guy," the boy said. 

Would the boy would leave him outside? The mere thought of being placed out in the freezing cold with a certain predator out on the prowl left him itching to free himself from the hands that trapped him. Yet his small form could do nothing of the sort. Paralyzed and stiff under the boy's spellwork.

-

Now, Ron Weasley didn't typically leave the common room at such an early time as this. In fact, he would much rather be cozying up in front of the fireplace than traversing through the frigid halls at this hour. He almost wished that he would run into Snape, if only for the sole reason that he would have an excuse to go back to the dorms. Alas, no such chance was given to him as he continued to search for his lost pet.

Scabbers, as per usual, was nowhere to be found. Ron was fairly certain that the rat, in its old age, was suffering from some sort of dementia. He wouldn't be surprised and would much prefer giving the troublesome animal back to his brother Percy. Or just about anyone else.

In his reflection, he nearly missed the sound of rustling fabric and the slow movement of a passing student. If it weren't for it being so damn early, he wouldn't have given it another thought and would've continued to go about his day. Yet there was a nagging feeling, as he saw the green robes of Slytherin and familiar face of Belmonte... and true to Gryffindor customs, he clumsily followed right behind the boy.

Edwyn Belmonte was an odd character, and Ron was initially rather skeptical about the boy's trustworthiness when Hermione first began hanging out with him. Nobody believed him when he brought it up, but he couldn't shake off the way his skin seemed to crawl whenever the boy passed him in the halls, or Hermione stopped to talk to him while they were on their way to class.

Over the past three years, Belmonte slowly integrated himself into their friend group and Ron has grown to tolerate his presence. Mostly due to Hermione's insistent arguing and Harry's firmly placed trust in Belmonte.

Still. He couldn't help the feeling of unease that crawled its way into his gut whenever he stared into Belmonte's eyes. It was like... looking into a void. Now, he wasn't saying that they were empty, per say, but more that they seemed to suck everything in. Every second that those eyes remained focused on you, like a specimen under a microscope.