The Red Head Who Stole My Heart ~•Ron Weasley x Reader•~ (Book 2; Year 2)

Chapter 8

Enjoy~

Y/n

"Have you spoken to Hermione?" Harry asks while we follow him up the steps. I nod and say, "Oh, she should be out of hospital in a few days, when she stops coughing up furballs..." I look down with my eyes a bit wide. We step up to the top step and notice that there's water on the ground again.

"Yuck!" Ron exclaims. "Looks like Moaning Myrtle's flooded the bathroom..." I say, shaking my head and walking up and into the bathroom. I hear whimpering and the boys walk in behind me. I put my hand out, saying nothing so they know to be quiet. 

I point up at the window and I feel the boys come up behind me and look up to where I'm pointing. Myrtle is sitting on the window sill, looking down to us asking, "Come to throw something else at me?" 

"Why would I throw something at you?" Harry asks, stepping forward. I stand up straight and tilt my head, shooting her a questioning glance. "Don't ask me. Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me." She stands, floating down slowly towards us. 

"But it can't hurt if someone throws something at you. I mean, it'll just go right through you." Ron says. I elbow his arm as she flies down and yells, "Oh, sure! Let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it. Ten points if you get it through her stomach!" She shoves her fist through Ron's stomach and I gasp. "Fifty points if it goes through her head!" She finishes, shoving her fist through Ron's head as she said that. 

My brows raise and I ask, "But who threw it at you anyway?" She looks at me sincerely and says, "I don't know. I didn't see them. I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell through the top of my head. Mhm!" Her face begins to scrunch up as if she's about to cry again and she sobs, slowly flying into her stall. 

I look after her as she goes and Harry picks something off the ground. I look at it and say, "It's a diary of some sort..." 

***

The next day, we walk out into the courtyard- with Hermione this time- and Harry says, "It was Hagrid. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets 50 years ago." I shake my head and fiddle with the tassels of my scarf and holding my mother's book in my other hand. "It can't be Hagrid. It just can't be." 

"We don't even know this Tom Riddle." Ron speculates as I quickly flip through the very little pages my mother wrote in under my robes. "He sounds like a dirty rotten snitch to me." Ron finishes. 

"The monster killed somebody, Ron. What would any of us had done?" Harry fires back. We stop walking and I close the book, holding it under my robes again. "Look, Hagrid's our friend. Why don't we just go and ask him about it?" Hermione suggests.

"That'll be a cheerful visit. 'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'" Ron states sarcastically. As he was speaking Hagrid approaches us from behind and I seem to be the only one to notice, so as he was talking, I kept tapping his arm to get his attention but, he just ignored me. "Mad and hairy? Yer wouldn' be talkin' about me, now, would ya?" Hagrid says cheerfully. 

"No." The three say in unison while I just smile up at him. There's an awkward silence and Harry decides to break it, asking what he's carrying. "Oh, it's Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent. For the Mandrakes, ya know? Well, accordin' to Professor Sprout, "they've still got a bit of growin' up ter do, but once their acne's cleared up, we'll be able to chop 'em up and stew 'em, then we'll get those people down at the 'ospital un-Petrified." He explains as we nod. He continues, yet in a more grim tone, "In the meantime, though, you three had best be lookin' after yourselves. All right?"