Ronald Weasley's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Ron Weasley ran through the Forbidden Forest with a warning burning in his chest. Death Eaters had reached the castle. His family was inside, and he had slipped out to find help before the attack began. Now three of them chased him through the trees. If they caught him, no one would know in time. Branches tore at his robes. His owl, Pigwidgeon, flapped in wild circles above his head, too loud, too small to hide. A red curse split a trunk beside Ron's ear. He dove into a stand of ferns and pressed flat against the cold ground. Boots crushed leaves close by. Wands hissed spells into the dark. Ron gripped his own wand and knew running would not save him. They were faster. They knew this forest better than he did. Then a hand closed over his mouth. Ron nearly screamed. He twisted and saw pale hair and gray eyes he knew from years of hallway fights. Draco Malfoy. The last person Ron expected, and the son of a Death Eater. Draco pressed a finger to his lips and pointed down. A narrow gap opened between two roots, hidden by hanging moss. "In there," Draco whispered. "Now, Weasley. Move." Ron didn't trust him. Draco's family served the very people hunting him. But the boots were ten steps away. Ron crawled into the gap. Draco squeezed in after and dragged the moss back across the opening. They lay pressed together in the dark. Ron felt Draco's heart pounding as fast as his own. A Death Eater stopped right above them. Dirt sifted down onto Ron's face. He held his breath and counted his own heartbeats. "The blood traitor came this way," a rough voice said. "Spread out. Find him." Draco's hand found Ron's wrist and held it, steady and warm. Ron stared at him. Draco stared back and mouthed one word. "Wait." The boots moved off. The voices thinned into the trees. Still Draco held on until the forest went quiet again. "Why?" Ron whispered. "You're one of them." Draco looked away. "My father is. I'm not." He pushed the moss aside and peered out. "They think you ran east. That buys you an hour, maybe less." Ron crawled out and pulled Pigwidgeon down onto his shoulder. His hands shook. He was alive. He had lost the patrol. But the warning still hadn't reached anyone, and now the Death Eaters knew a Weasley was loose in the woods. "My family's still in the castle," Ron said. "I have to get to them." Draco stood and brushed dirt from his robes. He wouldn't meet Ron's eyes. "Then you'll need me. I know where their patrols aren't." Ron studied the boy who had just saved his life. Trusting a Malfoy felt like madness. But he had no other way through. He nodded once. "Fine," Ron said. "Show me."