In the Dark
He had gotten separated from Harry in the crush of flames and smoke. Everyone had scattered. Ron dove for cover under a heavy overturned bureau in a hallway near the Hufflepuff Common Room. Or at least that's where he thought he was.
He may also have passed out. He couldn't remember. Now it was dark, and he was alone. More alarmingly, he couldn't hear anything. No fighting. No shouting. No crying.
Nothing.
Am I deaf? Did something happen to my hearing?
He scrabbled out from his hiding place and started wandering down the dim hall. Part of him wanted to raise a light of his own to see what he where he was going, but a greater part of him feared what it might reveal. He tripped and stumbled his way along, never once looking back at what, or who, he might be stepping on.
Hermione would certainly tell me that I shouldn't light my wand. It would only bring attention to where I am.
Where is Hermione? Was she back there? On the floor? Did I walk over her and not know?
Ron pressed forward. He couldn't bare the places that his mind was wandering; at least when he was moving, his mind of focused on something else.
Faintly, just ahead, Ron started to sense a brightening. His feet picked up their pace, and he began to recognize the confluence of corridors that lead to the Great Hall. He forced himself to stop, straining to hear in the grey haze of fire and smoke. It was with some trepidation that he acknowledged that he could faintly hear the running of water from somewhere.
So, it is not my ears, he thought, sadly. I'm just alone. Maybe—
He resumed is careful creep. The doors had been blown to splinters in the wake of the battle here, and large pieces of oak still hung precariously off their great iron hinges like giant fangs. The shadows they cast were ominous, and Ron found he could not catch his breath in the sight of them. He felt as if every single hair on his body was standing at attention, despite being in the presence of nothing more that wood. He clutched at his chest only to discover the wetness of his own tears, streaming down his face, uncontrolled.
He pressed himself into the cool stone wall and breathed. And breathed. And breathed— — —
When he woke again, he knew he had passed out. It was darker still now, and the light from the Great Hall, albeit dim, was the only break in the darkness of the still, broken castle. He started out at a crawl, but eventually regained his feet long enough to run past the terrifying doors.
Overturned, blackened and exploded tables greeted his eyes. Only a very few of the magically illuminated candles overhead burned, casting eerie shadows everywhere he turned. He speed for the dais thinking to light more candles, or, perhaps, to just run out through a broken window onto the grounds. He needed air!
The panic was swelling in his chest again, when Ron heard it. A footstep. Several footsteps. Several approaching footsteps.
"You're missing all the fun," he called out in Ron's direction. Ron stood, stock still, clutching his wand.
He turned, slowly. "McLaggen," Ron whispered with relief, his shoulders slumping. "You scared the li—"
He only had a moment to jump out of the way of the hex.
"Did you think I was on your side? You really are thick, aren't you?" Blast after blast of increasingly strong charms left Cormac's wand as he stalked across the room in Ron's direction.
"Don't you see, you little red-headed twit." flash "I have ambitions." flash "I plan to win no matter what!" flash
Ron cowered behind a table, his breath ragged. On any other day, he would've dropped his wand in favor of tackling Cormac McLaggen to the ground and giving him a good pummeling. But in his current state, he could not manage to remember a single spell. He was frantic.
"You should come out and at least face me," McLaggen called. "I don't want the shame of having taken down a spineless coward."
Ron had his eyes closed, trying so hard to fight his fear. And then, he found it. Right there, in his pocket. And in one brief moment, all his fear washed away. Ron remembered who he was and that no one knew this castle as well as he did. He knew it like the back of his hand. He knew with his eyes closed. And he smiled.
"There you are. Good boy."
"I'm not going to make it as easy as all that," he shouted back. And Ron raised his hand, and flicked the Deluminator.
And he shouted into the darkness. "Come get me now."