When the golden trio is out hunting horcruxes, Ron snaps from the pressure of Voldemort's locket. But what if Harry storms after him?
Ron stormed into the night.
"Harry do something!" Hermione sobbed as her best friend glanced coldly at the tent entrance before his face dropped and he came to his senses.
"Shit, I gotta go after him," Harry muttered and ran out of their tent with one last look at the locket. Hermione gasped and stepped out into the cold air just in time to see Harry latch a hand onto Ron's shoulder before both disappeared into thin air.
"No!" she cried out. Ron must have dissaparated just as Harry grabbed him. Her breaths became frantic as she felt fresh tears stream down her face. They wouldn't be able to come back. Neither of the boys would be able to track back to her, her wards were strong and she couldn't risk taking them down, especially in the night. She stumbled farther into the night and sank to the ground with her hands covering her mouth.
How did this happen? She was alone. Her best friends gone and she might never see them alive again. A strangled cry left her throat as she clawed at the frozen ground in an attempt to steady herself. Even when the tears dried on her cheeks she didn't dare go inside, hoping for a mop of red hair or a flash of Harry's glasses. Instead all she saw was darkness.