Authors note:
Hey there :)
I'm a newbie and this is my first story. Im not going to ask you to be nice or go easy on me or anything, if you like it you like it and if you don't then you don't. This is basically my own little twist on Ron leaving from Hermiones point of view. I know not everything matches up exactly to the story but this is fanfiction and the beauty of that little factoid is that i can do whatever the hell i want!!! YAAAAY! Its really short but whatevs. Read and enjoy!
-Laughs
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This wasn't happening.
I could stand strong and fight with him. I could watch him duel a death eater. I could accept him sacrificing himself for his friends. But I could not let him leave me.
When he turned around and started walking away my insides screamed. Every step he took was a stab in my chest. The pain took my breath away. He was killing me.
I tried to speak, to call for him, but all that came out of my mouth was a strangled gasp. I lunged for him and grabbed his arm. I clung to it like a lifeline, but it was useless. He wouldn't even look at me; with a harsh shake of his arm my hands slid hopelessly off.
Somehow I found my voice.
"Ron! Ron no! Stop. Stop!"
His face held that stone expression, shutting me out. This wasn't the Ron I loved. I followed him out of the tent, stumbling wildly as I tried to keep up with his long strides. The rain was coming down in sheets, soaking both of us; but it didn't matter. He was leaving. I was dying.
"Ron you can't do this! You can't leave us! Harry needs you!"
I need you.
Don't go.
Please.
He kept his pace, pretty soon he would be out of my enchantments and able to apparate. I was running out of time.
"Harry has you. He doesn't need me." He shouted over his shoulder, his voice barely audible over the roar of the thunder.
He was three feet away from the line that separated him from my eminent destruction. If he left I was sure I would loose a piece of myself, if not all.
In desperation I shrieked the words that I prayed would make him stay.
"I need you! Ron please don't leave me!" I cried to his retreating back.
I saw his shoulder flinch as if I had shot him with a dart, stopping him in his tracks. He spun around to face me, his boyish face burning. My heart was racing in my chest and I could feel my hands shaking violently.
"ME?!" he yelled, eyes widening. "You don't need me! You have HIM!"
He pointed a long finger over my shoulder to the tent that had just been host to one of the most painful moments of my life.
"Ron no! It's nothing like that and you know it!"
Something flickered across his tortured eyes and for a second, I thought I had him again. But just as soon as the emotion had come, it disappeared. With a look that was sure to haunt my dreams for the rest of my existence, Ron turned away.
"Please..." My plea came out in a whisper under the ferocious storm whirling around us.
He took two giant steps out of my invisible shield, turned on his heel, and was gone.
For half a second I just stood there, staring at the spot where Ron had just vanished, taking my heart with him. Then it hit me.
He was gone.
I couldn't stop the strangled sob that tore from my throat. Nor could I keep my knees from giving out from under me, unable to hold me up. The tears rolled down my face and became one with the relentless raindrops. It felt like someone had stuck their hand in my chest and ripped out my heart. I was glad Harry was still in the tent, I didn't want him to see me like this; weak, hysterical, broken. For once I didn't try to control what was happening to me, I knew I couldn't fight it. Instead I let the pain slam me further and further into the ground, burying what had been Ron's.
I don't know how long I sat there before my tears ran out. I couldn't feel anything. My mind seemed detached from my body as I stood up and made my way back the tent, mechanically.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, as I tried to block everything out, a whisper of a thought was sitting, taunting me. I knew what I should've done. Those words were all he ever needed, but I am a coward. Everything would have been different.
So as I walked back into the tent, I played a new vision in my head. One where I had told him what I've wanted to for seven years. In this story, Ron didn't leave. Instead, he replied with the same three words. He stayed with me. He protected me.
I curled up on the chair beside the fire and let this scene consume me. And as the tears fell down my face I knew they weren't just out of the devastation of losing him. They rolled down my cheeks in response to the bitter anger I felt towards myself; all because I didn't, and may never, say those three little words.
I love you.