I woke in the dark with a crick in my neck. I rubbed my tongue along my teeth and could tell I hadn't brushed them last night. I briefly wondered why I was scrunched up in the armchair instead of laying in my bunk. I stood and stretched my arms over my head. I caught sight of my feet and saw I was wearing Ron's thick socks and thought I better take them off before he sees me in them. And that's when I remembered last night. That's when the fight flashed through my mind and my knees gave way and I felt his sad angry eyes rip my heart to pieces as he said, "I get it, you choose him".
I stood for a moment, struck dumb by the gravity of last night before I forced myself to make a pot of tea. My mind wanted to panic. My heart wanted me to cry. My body wanted to lie down and not get up again until he told me it was all a dream.
I sat numbly out in front of the tent sipping my tea and watched the sun creep its way across the horizon. The reality of Ron's desertion was weighing down on me and I couldn't make myself stop thinking about it. I kept wondering what I had done to make him think I wanted Harry. It was so absurd. Didn't he know? Why didn't I just show him how I felt in case he didn't? Why, when he coldly accused me of choosing Harry, didn't I just shout that I loved him. For the second time in my life my cowardice has not only kept me from him, but it's pushed him so far away that I don't know when I'll speak to him again.
I should have just told him. I'm not blind. I could see the way he looks at me. I could see the way he watches me. When I read. When he thinks I'm sleeping. When he's playing wizard's chess. I know he watches me. I know he flushes beet red when I catch him. I didn't want to admit that I knew what it meant, but I knew. And I feel so stupid. I feel like this is all my fault.
Harry tiptoes around me all morning. He doesn't say a word, and I know he blames himself, but I'm too ashamed to tell him the truth. That I did talk about that stuff with Ron. That I did feel that way. That its all my fault that Ron's gone now. All I do is hope with everything I have that he'll find a way back. That he'll want a way back.
And now its time to leave and I know that he'll never find us. I know the magic, because its mine. I know that its too complicated to break through because its entire purpose is to keep people, no matter who, from finding us. And this thought only gives me one more reason to hate myself for Ron leaving. Because I didn't stop him from leaving and now I'm keeping him from coming back.