My entry for WeasleySeeker's Dialogue Prompt Competition. My prompt was 'You failed yet again? How?'
"Ron I'm sorry, it's your turn"
Hermione handed him the locket, sorrow etched onto her face as she continued the sick game of pass the parcel that they were all locked in, bound for twelve hours at a time to wear this thing that whispered in their ear, telling them every bad thing they already knew about themselves.
Ron hated it, he didn't know it was possible to loath an object as much as he did that locket. Although, it didn't even feel like an object any more, it felt like a person, like an extra part of your soul that latched on, festered in your brain until it became you. He'd only just recover from taking it off every day before it was time to put the damn thing back on again.
Hermione was watching him with a measure of fear in her eyes. Was she scared of him? Had it got to the point where he scared her now? He knew he was being an arse when he had the locket on. He treated Hermione and Harry like crap but it was like he couldn't help it, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them and then he felt so awful about the things he said he continued to lash out at both of them if they tried to be nice to him. It was a vicious circle.
Ron sighed and tried to hitch a small smile onto his face. He took the locket from Hermione's outstretched hand and placed it around his own neck. Immediately he felt colder and he pulled his jumper over his hands in frustration.
Hermione however let out a sigh as the weight of the locket was lifted from her. Ron could actually see her eyes brighten slightly, it was like a curtain lifted across her face to reveal the real Hermione. She was so beautiful.
'She'll never take you though'
I know that, Ron thought savagely. I know she's too good for me. I know she'd love Harry over me any day, who wouldn't.
"Ron would you like a cup of tea?" Hermione asked tentatively.
Ron grunted in response and Hermione bustled off to fill the kettle.
'See how she pities you. She treats you like a child. That's how she see's you – a child. A pathetic child.'
Ron got up quickly and walked outside the tent. Harry was sitting outside on guard but Ron did not stop to speak to him, instead he stalked off into the woods. The day was cool and the air felt heavy, as if it might rain any moment.
'They don't need you here. What are you giving to them that requires you to stay? You're not helping. Nobody really needs you at all.'
Ron lifted his hands to his head, he wanted to scream, to tear out his own hair or his brain or anything to make the thinking stop. It was constant, day and night, telling him how useless he was, how Harry didn't have a plan, that Hermione would never feel the same way he felt, that they'd be better off without him.
He didn't think it would be like this. He thought they would have found more than one horcrux by now, or at least that Harry would have more of an idea what was going on, more of a plan. He'd given up everything for this. He'd run away from his family, from school and for what exactly? So he could camp out in freezing woods every night listening to the same discussion over and over again.
'There's no glory in this, there'll never be any glory for you. You are overshadowed by every brother before you, each one has achieved more than you ever will. Even your sister is better. She's the one your mother really wanted anyway, not you.'
"Stop, just stop" Ron actually said out loud, banging his fist against his head.
He stopped walking abruptly. Where was he trying to go anyway? There wasn't anywhere to go, they were in the middle of nowhere. He looked around him, next to a gnarled tree a single wildflower was growing through the damp ground. It was a pale blue, it reminded him of the dress Hermione had worn to the Yule Ball.
'Where she went with Viktor Krum, a better man than you can ever dream to be.'
Ron scowled and plucked the flower from the ground. Hermione would like it. It would make her smile. He could rarely make her smile nowadays. He had brought her a flower on her birthday over a month ago and she had kissed him on the cheek.
'A kiss of pity. A kiss like a mother kisses their child. That's not the kiss of a woman that loves you. She could never love you.'
Ron stomped back towards the tent, his stomach rumbling. He was constantly hungry at the moment. There was never any good food around here. Hermione actually expected him to live off berries and fish and mushrooms. He kicked the ground in frustration. It wasn't Hermione's fault about the food. When he reached the tent he saw that Harry had left his post outside. Ron peered through the open flap of the canvas in time to see Harry say something to Hermione. Hermione laughed in response, her beautiful eyes twinkling and her hair billowing in a beautiful bushy mess.
Ron felt bile rise in his throat. He ripped the flower in his hands in half, throwing it to the ground and crushing it into the dirt with his shoe for good measure. Then he threw himself down at the tent entrance, may as well be on guard duty if Harry couldn't be bothered.
'You failed yet again? How? How are you so pathetic? She could never love you.'
Ron put his head between his knees. He couldn't do this anymore. Rain began to fall.
AN: I've always been fascinated by Ron when he's wearing the locket in DH and I wanted to explore that in this story. I imagine this is set the morning of Ron's departure so he's at breaking point. I actually wrote this story in just over an hour as I entered the prompt competition two hours before closing - better late than never I guess haha!
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A-a-V xxx