Grimmauld Place - 27 June, late morning
Ron ran a fingertip over the spines of a shelf of books closest to his favourite chair in the library, the over-stuffed maroon one in the corner that reminded him of home. The books in that corner were worn and tattered and full of dark magic. He'd been over the lot of them more times than he could count.
The pervasive silence of the house settled down around him as he marked the page of the one he'd been reading and pushed it back into it's place. Where was Harry?
He pushed himself up from his seat and strode toward the door. He hadn't seen Harry for hours and they hadn't talked about whether or not they were still going to Charlie's for dinner.
Ron wasn't at all sure how Harry was taking the news about Sirius but something told him the two of them needed to talk far more than they needed to spend the night out.
The pervasive silence of the house settled down around him as he marked the page of the one he'd been reading and pushed it back into it's place. Where was Harry?
He pushed himself up from his seat and strode toward the door. He hadn't seen Harry for hours and they hadn't talked about whether or not they were still going to Charlie's for dinner.
Ron wasn't at all sure how Harry was taking the news about Sirius but something told him the two of them needed to talk far more than they needed to spend the night out.