A Potter Secret

Ron Defects from the Team

Three small figures move slowly below. One figure, Ron, trails the other two; Harry and Hermione. We cut down to ground level. To Ron. He glances about sullenly, staring at the forsaken landscape, then looks up ahead to Harry and Hermione. The sight of them, walking side-by-side, does nothing to improve his mood. "I'm hungry," Ron says.

Harry and Hermione stop, turn. Study him for a moment. "What?" Harry asks.

"I'm hungry," Ron repeats. Hermione glances at Harry, who continues to stare at Ron, as if taking the measure of him.

"We're all hungry," Harry reminds.

Ron returns Harry's glance, then looks off again. Isabella crosses to Ron, examines his ragged bandage.

"Leave it," Ron says. Hermione glances at Ron's profile, then, briefly, at the Horcrux dangling from his neck. Ignoring his words, she begins to rummage in her beaded bag. "Mum can make food appear out of thin air."

Hermione looks at him. "No one can conjure food out of thin air. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law. The other four are-"

"Oh, speak English, can't you?" Ron snaps. As Ron jerks his injured arm away, Hermione looks up, meets Ron's hard gaze. "I said leave it."

Hermione glances at the bandage in her hand, puts it away. "It'll be dark soon. We need to find a place to sleep," Harry says.

"Good plan," Hermione nods.

"Yeah. Brilliant. Only, correct me if I'm wrong- wasn't that yesterday's plan? And the day before that? And the day before that? Walk. Sleep. Walk. Sleep," Ron says, angrily.

Harry stares at Ron, then begins to walk toward him. Hermione watches silently. Ron stands utterly still. When Harry stops, he simply nods to Ron's neck. "My turn," Harry calls. As he reaches out, Ron blocks his hand. For a moment, they simply stand silently. Then Ron strips the chain from his neck, hands it to Harry and brushes past him. Harry glances at Hermione, drapes the Horcrux over his head and follows. Hermione watches them go, then does the same.

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A light rain falls. Harry, wearing the locket now, walks the perimeter of the camp. He glowers toward the tent in the distance. In the tent, safe, warm and out of earshot, Isabella and Hermione tend to Ron's arm as he stares at Harry. "He doesn't know what he's doing, does he?" Ron questions.

A frown creases Hermione's forehead as she studies Ron, then she glances at Harry, a trace of doubt in her eyes. "None of us do," Hermione sighs.

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Three figures move through a blood-red autumnal landscape.

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The charred husks of several RVs, hulking black masses, lay about the ash-ridden park. Ron, trailed by Harry and Hermione, pauses. His eyes scan the scorched earth, fix on a blackened swing, swaying back and forth in a tiny playground. His eyes shift to the ground and he crouches. His fingers shift the dry dirt, reveal a shiny toy not of Muggle making. "Wizards were here," Ron notes.

"I don't like this place," Hermione shudders. Harry and Ron both turn, look at her. "I want to go."

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Ron's face fills the screen, unwashed and wild. He looks toward something unseen. Then a rabbit hops into view, nose probing some brush. Slowly, Ron raises his wand, poised to fire when Bam! Dirt explodes near the rabbit's rump and it is off and running. Seconds later, Harry appears, giving chase. Ron curses and pelts after. The rabbit zig-zags through the trees, eluding one blast after another as Harry and Ron trip through the forest. They begin laughing, their aim becoming more and more erratic. A tree limb explodes over Harry's head and he wheels, fires playfully back at Ron. They exchange a few more blasts when one narrowly misses Harry. Instinctively, eyes flaring, he wheels, fires back at Ron, narrowly missing him. They both stop, stare at one another, chests heaving, their breath drifting in plumes, smiles gone. Ron rubs his injured arm, and turns away.