The anger coursing through Ron's veins seemed to radiate heat and despite the rain that was pelting down on him, he felt hot and wanted nothing more than to sit down and catch his breath. But he couldn't do that; Hermione would be after him in a second and he had to get beyond their protective enchantments before he could Apparate. He did not want to see or speak to her, his anger being towards her as well as Harry. No sooner had he thought about her did he hear her calling.
"Ron! Please – come back!" He scoffed to himself as he blundered through the trees, his trip to the edge of their campsite made all the more difficult due to the rain and the trees. She didn't want him back, he knew that now. She had made her decision and he couldn't pretend it didn't hurt him that she had chosen Harry.
Finally Ron found the edge of the campsite where the charms stopped working and he stepped over an invisible line that he knew he could not go back over. Why would he want to anyway? He contemplated walking somewhere but having no real idea where he was, he attempted Apparating. Sight and sound disappeared and Ron focused on a random street not far from the Burrow, his desire to be home overwhelming him suddenly. Darkness pressed in on him for what seemed like forever and he was pleased to feel his feet on solid ground. He glanced around the supposedly deserted street and started walking in the general direction of his childhood home. It was then that the guilt set in.
He had left Harry, his best friend who Ron had said multiple times that he would help, but more importantly he had left Hermione. The feelings he had for her, no matter how he had tried to push them aside in the past, now made him hate himself. He had left her and that's all there was to it. Doubt started to creep in to the corners of his mind about Harry and Hermione – was he just imagining it? Not that his anger had disappeared slightly he realised how stupid he had been.
He was supposed to be there for his friends – not matter what – and Ron had left the second things got hard. He turned a corner and kicked at a stone lying on the ground, attempting to let out his frustrations but it only made him angry again when he missed it completely. He picked it up and threw it. As it sailed through the air and across the road, he saw that it was the same size as the locket.
The locket. Everything seemed to click horribly into place as Ron kept walking down the street, ignoring the people who sat in the park across the road. He knew it affected them all, altered their moods and made them lash out at each other but for some reason it appeared to affect him more and the dark thoughts that plagued him while he had worn it disturbed him. Why hadn't he seen it before? He recalled every incident where he had felt anger towards Harry and Hermione and each time he remembered wearing the locket. The doubt that he had felt earlier now took him over and he sighed loudly to himself, only vaguely aware that he people who had been sat at the park were walking down the street. He knew he wanted to go back – he had long decided that – he just wasn't sure if his Apparating skills were up to it. They had always relied on Hermione. He stopped where he was and reached for his wand that sat in his front pocked before a loud voice startled him and he whirled around.
"Don't move!" It seemed the group were following him and Ron stared at them and their grinning faces. There were 5 of them and they didn't look much older than twenty. The one nearest to Ron who had spoken was watching him carefully and Ron noticed then that he was pointing a wand at him.
"What do you want?" Ron growled, sounding braver than he felt.
"Me and my buddies here was just wonderin' why you wasn't at school?" The same man asked and the others behind him nodded eagerly. "Only, this time of year kids your age 'sposed to be at Hogwarts, innit?"
"Hogwarts?" Ron repeated stupidly, desperately trying to think of something to get him out of the situation he had found himself in. "Why would I be there?"
The sarcastic tone in his voice was not missed by the man and he took a menacing step closer, his teeth bared. "What's your name?"
The smell of him hit Ron as the man stepped closer and he had to fight to keep his face straight as the stench invaded his nostrils. "Stan Shunpike." He had no idea where the name had come from but a moment later he was pleased as two of the others looked shocked and took a step back.
"Stan?" The man in the front grunted and peered at Ron. He was clearly the ringleader and he gestured to one of the others who moved forward. "Hold him."
Ron didn't have time to react as the man grabbed him roughly and held his arms tightly. Another man came up and took his wand from his pocked; Ron growled at how helpless he now was. He struggled for only a second before he saw a fight happening in front of him.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Greyson." One of the other men who had stepped back when the name Stan had been mentioned was now speaking to the first man and Ron watched carefully. "If this is Stan – we could be in serious trouble if we bring him in to the Ministry."
"That's not really up t'you now, is it?" Greyson growled, his voice louder than it had been before. He made to turn back towards Ron but the other man reached out and held on to his arm.
"You keep leading us into trouble – I think it's time someone else – " The rest of his sentence was cut off by the sound of the first man punching him and in a split second, chaos took over.
The two men started fighting and were throwing punches faster than Ron could take in. The man holding on to him relaxed his grip ever so slightly and Ron took his chance. While everyone's eyes were on the two fighting men, he used his elbow and forced it back hard into the man's stomach. He grunted and let go of Ron who then took his wand, pointing it at the man holding his own.
"Expelliarmus!" He cried and with the skills of a seeker – something he knew Harry would be proud of he thought with a pang – he watched his wand fly into his outstretched hand. Realisation shocked the pair fighting and Ron caught their angry looks before he was ripped out of the air, his mind focusing on the area he hoped Harry and Hermione were still at.
The pain came as soon as the darkness disappeared and his feet touched ground. Though he knew immediately that he had been Splinched, Ron also knew it wasn't serious. Sharp, shooting pains came from his right hand and he brought it up to his face to assess it. There was no blood which he was thankful for and he then spotted two missing fingernails. He inspected them closely, the early morning providing little light and shrugged his shoulders. It could have been much worse.
Finally he looked around at his surroundings and felt his heart drop a little. While he had known he couldn't Apparate directly into their campsite, he had tried to get as close as possible but now realised he was miles away from the riverbank. He stared hard in all four directions, the sun now slowly rising though it was hidden behind clouds and providing a dim light for Ron. Trees met his eyes in all four directions and he knew he needed to get out of it if he wanted to find them. Deciding to try his luck with Apparating again, he closed his eyes hard and clenched his fists tightly. A shot of pain travelled up his right arm and he remembered his fingernails; he did not want to Splinch himself again. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the riverbank and spun on the spot.
This time when he opened his eyes he heard water and glanced around wildly. He was still surrounded by trees but there weren't as many this time and to his left he could just see a clearing that might help him work out how close he was. Hitching his bag on his back, he set off into a run, dodging trees and narrowly missing a tree stump that almost tripped him over. He stumbled for a second before getting his footing back and after a few minutes the trees opened out into the clearing and Ron stopped, gasping and trying to get his breath back.
Recognition kicked him and he walked to the edge of what he now realised was a cliff and with a leap of pleasure, he saw the river. Thought it was not the stretch they had camped on, he knew he was close and almost grinned. He looked up at the sky and hoped they hadn't packed up and moved on already.
Desperation and a sense of urgency to find them filled him but now he felt something else and with an ugly look he realised he was scared. Would they want him back? He had been angry – furious – but did that excuse what he had said and done? Drawing himself up, he let out a breath. He would face it whether they were angry or not. With a grim look he shut his eyes and Apparated once more.
With a triumphant yell he realised he was just metres away from where they had camped and he ran forward, calling out to them both.
"Harry! Hermione! Where are you?" His voice was as loud as he could make it and though he heard it echoing, that was all he heard. Refusing to let himself feel disappointment, he kept calling, screaming only Hermione's name now until his throat hurt because after all, though he had come back for both of them, his feelings for her were becoming startlingly clearer and he felt a desperate urge to see her face and to hear her voice. Tears stung his eyes as he ran around in circles yelling with all of his might until his voice cracked and broke. Ron sunk down onto the stones as he gave in to disappointment and felt it was over him as the tears now slid down his face freely.
They had left, moved on to somewhere else that he knew there was no way he could possibly find, and he now felt loneliness as he stared around at the deserted bank. It did nothing to help him and he clenched his fists in anger, ignoring the bite of pain where he had lost his fingernails and felt at a loss of what to do next. He knew there was no way he could go back to school. Walking into Hogwarts as Harry Potter's best friend when Voldemort was out to kill him, Snape was the Headmaster and said best friend was on the run wouldn't bode well and besides all of that, Ron couldn't handle being at school when he knew Harry and Hermione were out hunting Horcruxes.
With Hogwarts ruled out, the only other place he could think of was his easier plan of the Burrow though now he could see the flaws. When he had left the tent and Apparated, intent on going home, his anger had clouded everything else and all he had wanted was to collapse into his bed, happy knowing that his mother would cook him breakfast in the morning. Now however, he knew with heartbreaking clarity that he could not go home until this whole war was over. Aside from the fact that he was supposed to be sick with spattergroit, his family was no doubt being watched by several Death Eaters, a direct result of having such a close connection to the Boy Who Lived.
Ron knew he wouldn't be able to find Harry and Hermione now – he had no way of knowing where they had gone or where they were planning to go and although he wanted to keep searching until he found them, he knew in his heart that it was pointless. With no food, shelter or any idea what he was doing he felt helpless and although the tears had long dried on his face, the anger and regret he was feeling almost caused them to fall again. He swallowed the bitter laugh that hung around in his throat at the thought of what his brothers would say when they found out he had ditched his two best friends and left them in the middle of nowhere.
Ron's head snapped up as an idea slowly started to form in his mind. Though it was partly how his family would react to him being home, the main reason he couldn't go to the Burrow was the Death Eaters that would be watching. There was however a place he could go that he was sure the Death Eaters didn't know about and where he wouldn't get to much grief for leaving – he hoped.
He felt a small sense of sadness at leaving the riverbank, it being the last place he had seen Harry and Hermione and a part of him wanted to stay just in case they came back – to look for him, maybe? – but he knew he was fooling himself. Standing up from the stones he had been sitting on for the last ten minutes he brushed himself off and made sure he had a tight hold on his bag. Bill had told him roughly where his and Fleur's cottage was and Ron focused as hard as he could on the two words Shell Cottage as he turned on the spot.
The sound of water met his ears though this time it was the crashing of waves and he felt relief. Opening his eyes he saw the cottage not far away and he ran for it, overcome with the need to see and speak to someone he knew. As the door to the cottage loomed closer, he felt a rush of affection for his older brother and knocked hard on the door as he reached it.
"Ron?" The disbelief in Bill's voice was clear but the two brothers hugged fiercely, the younger of the two feeling temporarily safe. "What are you doing here? Where are Ron and Hermione?"
Ron had expected the question and had even partly prepared an answer but the gravity of what he had done hit him at full force and must have shown on his face as Bill pulled him inside and shut the door. Ron followed him into a small living room and although he was nervous about telling Bill what had happened, he admired the light colouring of the room and it, coupled with the distant sound of the ocean, almost calmed him. Almost.
"Bill? Who eez it?" Fleur appeared in the doorway and her face showed shock as her eyes fell on Ron. "Oh, Ronald. Salut." A look passed between Bill and Fleur and the latter disappeared.
"What's going on?" Bill's expression was unreadable and as much as Ron wanted to not tell him a thing, he knew he had to. "Where are they?"
"I left them." His words were hollow, dark, and they sounded as ugly as they tasted. "It – it got too much for me; not knowing how you guys all were – how Mum and Dad – anything could have happened!" The desperate way with which he pleaded made him sick but he couldn't help it. He couldn't describe the locket and the way it made him feel towards Harry and Hermione, he could only hope that Bill would attempt to understand.
"Everyone's okay." Bill said shortly and Ron was thankful for this piece of information.
"I wanted to go back – I did go back but they'd already left." Ron hung his head and focused on holding back the tears that threatened to fall. A fresh wave of regret and guilt was washing over him and it hurt him to remember Hermione calling his name through the darkness. There was silence as Bill processed his words and Ron avoided his eye. He had always got on well with Bill; when he was younger he was the brother Ron would turn to if Fred and George were picking on him whereas Charlie would have joined in with the twins. Now he wondered whether it would mean anything that they used to be so close – he had left his friends, those he had sworn to help and there was no hiding from the hard stare of his older brother.
"You shouldn't have left." Bill said evenly, his tone hard to read and Ron nodded; he didn't want to talk anymore. All he wanted was to hear what Bill had to say and then fall into a bed and sleep. Hopefully when he woke up the war would be over. He almost laughed at the stupidity of his thoughts. "It must have been really hard for you to leave."
It was not a sarcastic comment and Ron felt a slight relief. "Bill, I regret it so – "
"I know." Bill interrupted and the two brothers shared a look of grim understanding. "Are you hungry?"
The moment he said the word Ron heard his stomach growl loudly and he gave Bill a sheepish look. "Sorry." He muttered, the word having more than one meaning.
"Don't apologise to me. I think you have enough guilt to live with. You aren't going to eat us out of house and home now come and get some lunch."
Ron ate gratefully, the bread and soup Fleur served being the best meal he had had in weeks and he happily accepted seconds. When he finished, Bill took him upstairs to a bedroom and shut the door, leaving Ron alone. He dumped his bag and glanced out the window at the garden. He almost wished he had a view of the sea, sure that it would distract him enough to not think about what he had done but as he sunk into the bed and closed his eyes, all he saw was Harry, angry and yelling, and Hermione, the sound of her sobbing voice calling his name. He drifted into an uneasy sleep, thoughts of his two best friends following him into his dreams as exhaustion took him over.
