Ron couldn’t quite wrap his head around why his new friend wasn’t allowed to return for their second year at Hogwarts. He remembered them vaguely mentioning something about their family being closely tied to Muggles and their intense disdain for magic, but it still didn’t make sense. The more he thought about it, the more it twisted something inside him. His first year at Hogwarts had been nothing short of magical, especially with them by his side. Sure, there had been a few bumps along the way—moments when things had gone sideways, but Ron had known from the start that they were part and parcel of any adventure. They’d been like two peas in a pod, always in sync. And of course, there was Hermione—but even she was, in her own way, part of their trio. So what did his friend do in the face of being locked away? Well, what any desperate thirteen-year-old would do in a crisis. He set out to break them out of their self-imposed prison.

Ron had suspected something was wrong from the very beginning. There hadn’t been any letters over the holidays. No owls arriving with news, no surprise packages from his friend to lift his spirits. Not even a quick, frantic phone call. It was as though his friend had completely vanished from the world, and Ron couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being held captive. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced: his friend was trapped, and there was only one thing he could do about it. So well...grabbing the twins, and his father's flying car. They set off into the night. This was-...probably a bad idea.

He swung the door open cautiously, careful not to fall out into the chasm of empty air below. They were high enough to give anyone a nasty fall if they weren’t careful—just a few feet from the ground, but still, the risk was there. His heart beat louder in his chest, both with the fear of being caught and the thrill of the audacity of it all. "Hey! Psst...open the window!"