Summery: The war is over. He can finally go home. He's always wanted to go home... but now he can't bring himself to do it.

Main Characters: Ron, Neville Longbottom

Voldemort had been dead for two days now, he was gone and dead and everything was over. The end of a most terrible era had come at last.

Yet somehow it all felt the same. Everything was still terrible, he was still cold, still a bit hungry, wizards and witches were still busying about with a flinching sort of dread as they sifted through the wreckage of Hogwarts, children were still dead-his brother was still dead.

Voldemort and his followers, the ones that had fallen, had been removed from the sacked Hogwarts grounds, as had most of the students of Hogwarts. Those of age, Aurors, and other members of the Ministry of Magic, stayed behind at Hogwarts-looking for the bodies of the fallen heroes and those of the death eaters. Bodies lined the Great Hall in a terrible mass. Sheets had been placed over their bodies to spare loved ones from seeing frozen dead faces. It had become a floor of white mounded fabric. Spells were even being wafted in the air to keep the bodies... fresh as they lay there in their temporary tomb.

The Ministry had wanted the bodies to remain at Hogwarts until they were sure they could move the bodies and give them all the proper attention they needed. The bodies needed to be examined, spells that caused the death needed to be identified, and family needed to be found and inforomed. There was so much that needed doing it had been decided that at least for now the bodies needed to remain at Hogwarts until some order could be restored to the Wizarding world. Under Kingsley's new direction, it seemed like the Ministry was at last shaping up and sorting through all the muck that had been so ignored before.

Ron Weasley, secretly was glad to still be at Hogwarts, still stuck in the moment of having something to keep his hands busy.

If he stopped moving, stopped working, he would have to face a world without Fred.

As a child he had dreamed of a world without his twin brothers, specifically without his worst tormentor. He loved Fred, but Fred could be cruel. There had been many fights between them, but there had been many wonderful times too. Fred had always talked to Ron seriously, was always ready to be upfront with him... no matter what needed saying. Fred never shielded Ron the way his older brothers did, but instead Fred stood with Ron and together the two would work through the bad. But yes for all of Fred's notable features ...Ron and Fred had often been at odds from Fred's less notable ones. But Ron loved Fred, and Fred had loved him...

...But now they'd never be able to reach that point in siblings lives when they'd finally be able to fully understand one another as adults, and come to a purer friendship and familial love.

Fred was gone, and nothing would be the same. Not for George, not for his parents...and not for him.

Ron was now sitting quietly in a corner on a half tarnished chair that had once been in the common rooms, but had somehow made its way down to the Great Hall. He was trying and failing to eat a sandwich a house elf had brought him. Ron was having one of those rare times in his life where his appetite was lacking. He'd been half starved on the bloody Horcrux hunt, but now that it was all over, Ron could scarcely bring himself to eat, even if his stomach gnawed painfully within him.

"...We're almost done. The Ministry and St. Mungo's will be ready to receive...all this," a voice cut in to Ron's thoughts, and his tilted his head realizing he was hearing Oliver Wood somewhere to his left.

Ron glanced wearily to his side, and saw the former Quidditch Captain speaking with an older woman Ron didn't recognize. From a glance Ron assumed she was one of the many Healer's who had flooded Hogwarts to offer aid, rather than have patients riskily be swept to the hospital. The pair were filling bottles with a freshly brewed potion...something most likely to help everyone keep their spirits up.

"Yes...yes. By tonight everyone will be able to go home. We're nearly finished here. It'll be good for everyone to head home...those sick little ticks like Rita Skeeter are already trying to get interviews."

Oliver snorted with disgust.

The woman lowered her voice in a whisper, "Someone tried to sneak in to speak to Harry Potter. Got into the castle and were looking for him while ignoring all this... this suffering!"

Ron felt his blood boil, and heard Oliver swear his voice heavy with disgust.

"They were stopped right?"

"Yes, yes. Mr. Weasley is guarding where Harry sleeps at the moment. And I believe Minerva Mcgonagall is sticking with Miss Granger. And I hear Bill and Charlie Weasley are tailing their brother. Those three are being hailed as, 'The Golden Trio,' in papers! I suspect they'll be badgered in the next oncoming days for information about everything that's happened."

Ron felt a cold unnameable emotion flood his stomach, and sat in a frozen dread as he listened to them talk.

"That's sick," Oliver hissed, "Can't those leeches leave well enough alone? Let everyone feel better and then...and then maybe this can be talked about! I don't...I don't even want to imagine what they went through!" Oliver's voice was laced with pity, fear, and dread.

Ron dropped his food, and got up, briskly walking away from the gossiping voices.

So this is fame then. This is what you wanted.

Ron's mind hissed and curled with an accusatory tone within his stomach. He shut his eyes, and cringed, trying to shut out the thought when he slammed into a firm chest. Warm arms wrapped around Ron, gripping his shoulders, and Ron's eyes snapped open. It was Charlie...and just hovering in the back was Bill.

'...I am being followed,' Ron thought as an involuntary shudder ran down his back.

Charlie squeezed his little brother's shoulders looking up into Ron's face, "Alright there Ronnie?"

"I...I just need..." Ron licked his dry lips, struggling with saying what he needed.

'Do I even know what I need? ' Ron wondered throat feeling tight.

"...You're just ready to go home Ronnie," Charlie said smiling, using Ron's childhood nickname. Ron only ever heard it when his family was worried about him, "But we'll be going tonight. We'll be going home."

Charlie sounded so happy, and Ron dropped his head in his chest. He felt so sick. Ron had wanted to go home for so long...wanted to be warm. Wanted to sleep in clean clothes, and clean sheets, and be in a room with privacy...and now Ron could only think how he didn't deserve a warm bed. He didn't deserve to go home...so many people were dead and gone. They'd never get to go home. And Ron had been a coward...abandoned his friends when the road got hard.

No he didn't deserve to go home.

He didn't say this, knowing it would earn him a smack, so instead Ron whispered, "Charlie...I just need a minute. I need some air."

Charlie squeezed his shoulders and reluctantly let his brother go, "Sure Ron...Sure."

Bill's hand cuffed Ron affectionately by the head, and finally Ron fled. He passed through the Great hall and made his way downstairs. In a familiar stride, he found himself headed for Hagrid's hut. He had no intention of going to pop inside the hut ...but he found himself drawn to the dark forest behind it. The Forbidden Forest didn't seem quite so dangerous now...in fact it seemed welcoming. He could slip inside...and disappear. He'd lived without Harry and Hermione for weeks...over a month. His days had been spent searching for them, as well as some nights. He would occasionally go and stay with Bill and Fleur...but Ron had managed to survive on his own...had managed to never go home.

He could manage it again.

Ron curled his hands into fists, he could disappear and never go home.

They didn't need a coward like him. They'd miss him...but they'd know...surely they'd know how much he'd let them all down. They'd know. And one day they'd say it was better he was gone. One day...they'd understand.

He made to move forward when a hand fell on his shoulder.

Ron jumped, and spun out of the grasp, wand out and pointing at Neville Longbottom who held his hands out passively.

"Don't go Ron," Neville whispered as if he knew everything Ron had been thinking.

Ron didn't lower his wand, his shoulders too tense and and an unknown fear nibbling at him.

"W-What?" Ron asked, voice sounding rough.

"You've got that look...I've seen it a lot here. You want to run away...but don't. You're needed Ron. You Mum...your family...Harry needs you. Hermione needs you."

Ron flinched. He cast his eyes down unable to look at Neville's calm sad face.

"I'm a wart Neville," Ron croaked, "A wart on toad's ass. I've already run away once...and I've got to do it again."

Neville snorted, and he reached out and took Ron's wrist, forcing it to lower. He then gathered Ron up in a hug and held Ron right, "A wart? Now that's a lie if I ever heard one! Come on Ron...talk to me. Help me understand why you need to go. Because trust me, you don't...you're needed. You're sorely needed here. With us, with them..."

"How do you know...how do you know...?" Ron rattled, shaken by the understanding in Neville's voice.

"So many here at Hogwarts would get that same desperate look Ron. So many here...we all went through too much. We're just...we're just kids in a terrible mess. I...I recognize the face of someone wanting to die... of someone swallowed by guilt. But you can't go Ron, you just can't! Talk to me Ron...talk to me. You don't deserve any of what you're feeling. No one does."

Ron sank to his knees, and Neville joined him.

"I've been a whining prat this whole journey...I'm...I'm a coward!" Ron croaked, hands digging into the grass, "And now people want to call me a hero! I'm a fool! I'm a fool...for ever wanting this!"

"You wanted to be famous Ron?" Neville pressed gently.

"No...no...I mean. I wanted attention...I'm just so selfish-"

"Ah yes. The youngest of five brothers wanting to stand out and be valued. Sounds so terribly selfish," Neville agreed sarcastically.

Ron winced at the tone, but carried on miserably, "I...I'm. I'm a selfish sod who only wanted a little limelight for myself! A jealous, greedy, prick!"

"Ron...you're kidding yourself. No, you're lying to yourself! You're not! You're not! You're none of those nasty things! Ron... it's just hard right now. Everything has changed, and is going to be hard for a while. You need to talk to your Mum and Dad. You need friends and family."

"How...How can you know? You weren't there! You weren't there! You don't know what...what I've done. What I've seen. What I was too afraid...What I...I..." Ron was crying now. He was disgusted and embarrassed at letting this happen in front of his classmate, but he just couldn't stop.

"No, No I wasn't with you," Neville agreed, "But you've always been really brave to me Ron... Back when we were first years...and you encouraged me to defend myself against Draco. You said I was twice as good as him. And when Malfoy and I got into it, you fought alongside with me Ron. You'll never know what that meant to me then. It was...it was exactly what I needed. Someone to believe in me. So...no. No I don't know what you went through, and we both know you can be a little thick, and put your feet in it sometimes..."

Ron had calmed, and raised his head to look at Neville. Neville's eyes were red and watery, his face full of emotion, "But you gave me strength. You give people strength Ron. You're none of those things you said you were...and you're the only one who can't see it! You're...You're a light in the dark. Like a lantern...a guide. And even if its not something we want to hear, you tend to say things people need to hear. Back when everyone was being silenced by Voldemort, it was your voice who broke his charm. Your voice that got us to overcome that enforced silence. You gave everyone courage to shout...you'd called to a whole load of people lost in the dark Ron, despite the pain seeing Harry laying there in Hagrid's arms. You're a light in the dark Ronald Weasley, don't go and leave your friends and family Ron. Don't leave 'em in the dark."

Ron took in a shuddering breath, touched by Neville's words, "I'm...I'm not so great-"

"You are!" Neville whispered encouragingly, "As I've said you're the only one who doesn't see it."

Ron was unable to argue against Neville. Neville sounded so sure that Ron was worth something, that Ron wasn't this big failure...Neville was so positive it was even beginning to convince him. Ron no longer felt the need to run, but he still couldn't fathom going home.

"I...I don't think I can go home just yet."

"Then don't," Neville said with a one shouldered shrug. Neville reached out, "Don't go home. Go talk to someone. Talk to your friends, talk to your family...but don't run just yet! Let's get you to your mum, eh?"

Ron nodded, feeling comforted and calmer despite everything, and allowed Neville to pull him to his feet. Feeling weak, Ron threw his arm over Neville's shoulders, and the shorter man silently supported him without being asked.

'If I'm a lantern in the dark, you're a pillar of strength,' Ron thought, promising to tell Neville so when he felt stronger. Staggering against each other the two made their way back towards the school.

"...You're...You're good...good at this," Ron said softly still wanting to somehow thank Neville for his words, "You should be a counselor. Or...or a teacher."

Neville looked sharply at Ron, asking in that old familiar nervous school boyish tone, "Really? You think so?"

Ron nodded, "Yeah. You'd be good at it. I know everyone here felt safe with you...and I can see why."

Neville blushed humbly, and kept his arm at Ron's waist.

The two young men said nothing more, and Ron thought more about what he would do. Maybe he wasn't ready to go home to a warm bed, but he was ready to be with his family. Maybe that could be enough until he could muster the courage to walk into his own front door.

End