A.N. Just a short fic for the season. Set during Deathly Hallows.

067. Snow

It was cold, gray, dreary. Snow fell, tiny and shapeless. It collected here and there, but the sea-touched cliffs wouldn't hear any of it. Most turned into slush.

He didn't care. He didn't care that it soaked through his pants while he sat on the frozen grass. He had earned it. Deserved it. It even seemed fitting that the snow was just as sad and lifeless.

"Ron, come inside before you catch your death," Bill called, wrapped in a warm coat and scarf. Fleur stood in the doorway watching as her husband tried to convince his young brother inside as the sky began to darken further.

Ron ignored him. He was shivering like mad, but no doubt his friends were faring worse. And he had left them. He had left her. No, he couldn't bare the warmth and comfort of Shell Cottage right now.

Bill trudged out, clearly agitated, finally coming to a stop a couple feet behind Ron. "I'm not going to ask you twice. But I will drag you in there if I have to. I don't care how rotten you feel, letting yourself get sick isn't going to solve anything."

Ron hunched over more, his response loud and clear to Bill. "Fine," Bill said in a clipped tone. He shoved his hands under Ron's arms and started bodily dragging him back. Ron threw Bill's hands off of him and finally stood.

"Alright! I'll come in!" he growled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stomped back towards the warm cottage. Bill rolled his eyes and followed, closing the door behind him as soon as they had both entered.

Fleur was setting tea out for both of them. "Bill ees right, you shouldn't be out zair in ze cold." Ron, sitting at the table, looked down at his hands, all the fight lost in him now.

Bill couldn't help but pity his brother. "You'll find them Ron. Sitting out there wasn't doing any good though."

He finally spoke. "It was better. They're out in the cold, half-starving, and I just left them there. I don't even know what made me do it. They were able to deal with it. Why couldn't I? But I left. I should be there. I don't deserve this." Ron pushed the tea farther away.

Bill sat across from him and studied him for a bit. "Well, build up your strength for them. When you find them, you'll be better for it."

Ron glanced up but then looked out the window and the falling snow. "I left her." His barely audible voice shook with the words. Bill's brow creased, knowing his brother had fancied Hermione for quite some time, even if he didn't know about it, but he didn't know how much Ron had truly cared until he saw how broken he was sitting across from him.

Fleur put dinner on the table, trying to break the tension. "Here, eat. After all, it ees almost Christmas."

Ron stood up. "And some Christmas this will be," he mumbled as he walked back out the front door.

Fleur moved to stop him, but Bill caught her elbow. "Let him go. He needs to deal with this how he can." Bill watched, barely making out Ron's form in the darkness before he disapparated.

Ron wrapped his arms around himself, staring up at the bright moon. There were no clouds in this forest, but snow lay heavily on the ground, grasping his ankles in an icy clutch. He pulled his legs free and began to carve his way through the forest.

"HERMIONE!" Nothing. Just the crunch of his own feet as he desperately searched, body and heart just as frozen as the snow beneath him.