Grief consumed him. His brother. Dead. Gone. Suddenly the whole world snapped into a new, vibrant perspective. He suddenly had the urge to avenge his brother's death. Make what he died for worth it something. "Ron! No!" yelled Hermione from directly behind him, pulling me with all her strength, he must of let her as he fell back and collapsed once again in a heap by her feet.
"But, Fr... Fr... Fred..." he mumbled into her shirt, his heart spilt into a million pieces and tossed upon the floor like a discarded jigsaw.
"Yes, Ron. But he'd want Voldemort gone. Not you to be killed too, trying to avenge him. Horcruxes Ron, Horcruxes." The idea stuck to his brain. No more Voldemort. No more people having to go through what he was going through. His children safe. His and Hermione's future secure, if only he could tell her how he felt. The thought of him and Hermione sharing a future tugged at the ends of his lips, but he couldn't smile. Not now.