Chapter 2

The blackness of Apparition cleared out as the forest glade came into view. It wasn't raining as hard as it had been before, but there was still mist in the air, cold and clinging. Fear briefly wondered if there were dementors nearby, then tried to banish that thought – with Joy in the state he was, there was no way Ron could cast a Patronus. Beside him, Sadness moaned miserably, tears starting to form in his eyes.

"Guys, what have we done?" The console flashed blue under his influence, regret for the fight that had just happened and remorse for the things Ron had said – or rather, the things that Anger and Disgust had said, and that Sadness and Fear hadn't done enough to stop. "We need to go back, Ron needs to apologize for all that. If we don't…"

"But will they even accept an apology?" said Fear. "If Hermione hadn't stopped us, who knows what might have happened? Ron might have seriously hurt Harry! What if they don't want him back?"

"We have to." was Sadness' reply. "I don't know if they'll want to hear it, but if we don't go back soon, they'll pack up and leave and we'll never find them again – maybe never see them alive again—" He looked away from Anger and Disgust, then pressed a button to recall the memory of the riverbank where they'd been camped out last, preparing to Apparate away…

…only to have Ron's concentration broken when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

Fear sprang into action. A microsecond later, he'd pulled a tab to prepare Ron to fight for his life and Ron reached for his pocket, only his wand was gone and another, much stronger hand had grabbed Ron's. Ron kicked and struggled – fight or flight, that was one of the first things Fear could remember consciously understanding – but to no avail. Ron's wrists were held tightly behind his back, as there was a shimmering in the air and five Disillusionment Charms were removed. There were four of them that Ron could see: a thin, stringy-haired woman with sallow skin and rotting teeth, a hulking, hideous brute of a man who smelled like a cross between a pigsty and a pile of rotting leaves (Disgust whimpered in horror at the stench), a shorter man a little older than Ron with a pockmarked face, grinning stupidly, and a chubby one with close-cropped blond hair, who looked to be their leader, from the way he carried himself. All of them were wearing grey robes that looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks. He glanced at the fifth member of the gang, the unseen man holding Ron captive, and was handed Ron's cherry and unicorn-hair wand.

The temptation to scream was overwhelming, but Fear kept himself in check, showing weakness would only put Ron in more danger. The fat blond one took a few steps closer to Ron, brandishing the wand tauntingly and speaking in a thick Cockney accent.

"Well well, what 'ave we got here, mates?" he said, spittle flying as he spoke. "He looks like he oughta be in school, don't he?"

"I…well…" Fear drummed the surface of the console, desperately coming up with a list of possible excuses "…uh…I just finished, see, and I didn't mean to stumble in here…"

"Liar!" The leader drew back a fist and punched Ron in the stomach. Alarm bells went off on the console as Ron doubled over in pain, and the man with the pockmarked face laughed cruelly. "They always tries to make excuses, they does, but we're not gonna fall for that, are we?" His friends chuckled in unison at that, and Fear looked desperately around for a possible avenue of escape, finding none. He glanced at the other emotions, his expression panicked and raw. "What do we do?"

"Well whatever happens, don't let them know who we are!" called Disgust. "If anyone finds out that we're not really at the Burrow, Mum and Dad are done for! Not that this lot looks bright enough to guess, that's a relief…"

Fear turned a key, a specialty one that he normally used to scare Ron into making excuses, either to Professor McGonagall for why his homework was late or to Mum for why he hadn't fed the chickens. It was the same principle, really, just with a lot more urgency right now. "You gotta name, ginger?"

"Uh…I'm Stan. Stan Shunpike." Why that was the first alias Ron had come up with, Fear wasn't sure, but it would work as well as any. He saw the stringy-haired woman consult a parchment list, checking for the name, and she shook her head.

"No Stan Shunpike on 'ere," she said, "but then again, how d'we know he is who he says he is? This one wouldn't be the first to try a fake name, would he?"

"I say we take him to the Ministry and let Madame Umbridge sort him out," said the fat one. "If he's another mudblood, that's a nice fat payoff for us right there, and if he's not, no skin off our backs, innit?"

Disgust came up to the console now. Given what his actions had just helped cause, Fear wasn't sure he wanted Disgust here beside him, but then reasoned that Ron desperately needed some confidence right now, and that there weren't any ties of friendship to be upheld with these people. Fear nodded, and Disgust turned another key, to induce the appropriate amount of contempt for the gang. On the outside, Ron's breathing seemed to become a little easier.

"Well now, you can't just take up the Ministry's time with me, can you? You could get in a lot of trouble, y'know, for accusing a pureblood of trying to fake his family…"

"I think I remember a Stan Shunpike once, last time I took the bus," said the pockmarked wizard. "He looked kinda like this bloke, tall and thin and spotty, guess it could be him…"

"Are yeh an idjit?" asked the stringy-haired witch. "I've been on that bus too, and Stan Shunpike definitely wasn't no ginger. This 'uns tryin' to hide from somethin', he is!"

Fear wished that Joy could be by his side, but the yellow emotion was still too weak to be of any use, and there wasn't enough room at the console anyway. "All right, everyone, we're only going to have one shot at this…"

"Don't you call me an idjit!" snarled the pockmarked wizard. The hideous smelly giant stepped away from him, as if he foresaw something dangerous, as the man stepped closer to the woman "Yeh hardly do any actual work, y'know, don't do anything but checking yer list and letting us handle everything, yeh could barely capture a kneazle on yer own!"

"Couldn't capture a kneazle, could I? Why don' yeh put yer wand where yer mouth is?"

Enraged, the first man lunged at the woman and tried to punch her in the face, but she grabbed him and dragged him to the ground as she fell, going for his eyes with her fingernails. The leader snarled and turned to the fighting pair to shout at them, and then Ron made his move.

Fear pressed one button with all his strength, and Ron jammed an elbow into the stomach of the man who was keeping him captive, as hard as he could. The man didn't fall over, but he grunted in pain and his grip weakened enough for Ron to break free with some quick signals from Fear. Ron grabbed the man's wand, a short, dark-colored one, but the ringleader had heard the noise and quickly spun around to face Ron. Fear and Disgust screamed in unison and pulled levers on the console simultaneously.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell felt…strange, to put it bluntly, having been cast with an unfamiliar wand, but it still worked, and the fat man wasn't prepared to block it. He stumbled, dropping Ron's wand on the ground, and Ron grabbed it, stuffing both wands into his pocket. Sadness almost screamed.

"Now, Fear, now!"

Fear didn't need to be told twice. He summoned the memory of the Welsh riverbank where they had last seen Harry and Hermione, and Ron had Disapparated before the memory had fully occupied his thoughts.

The alarm bells of pain rang out as their vision cleared. Fear looked around in horror – they were near a riverbank, yes, but it wasn't the place Ron had left from, and there was no sign of the campground. At the same time, And now Ron was in pain – they raised his right hand, where two fingers were slowly bleeding from the ends, the fingernails having been Splinched during their hasty Apparition. Disgust spun one wheel, and Ron grimaced at the sight.

"Ugh…after that, I'm not sure if we should try Apparating again" murmured Disgust. "Look at what we just did!"

"Well…I…but how else are we going to get back in time?" said Sadness. "We don't have a broom here, and it might take hours if we walk! What if they've gone by then?"

Fear considered the two arguments his coworkers were making. It was true that Ron wasn't in a good frame of mind right now, partly from the lingering aftereffects of wearing the Horcrux, and partly from the…forceful…actions the emotions had had to take over the last few hours. If Ron Apparated now, he might Splinch himself again, and it might be worse than a couple fingernails (he recalled how much blood they'd lost from the botched Apparition after escaping the Ministry). Apparition right now was a risky prospect, no question about it. However, they honestly had no idea how far away Harry and Hermione were – they had come to the correct river, the Apparition couldn't have displaced them too far from their destination – but there was no way to tell which direction the campsite was in, and if they tried to go there on foot, Harry and Hermione might leave in the intermittent time. That, if anything, seemed riskier.

"Maybe if Ron Splinches himself again, Hermione can fix it," said Sadness. "She did it before, the last time…"

"Hermione's not going to want to do anything for us, except maybe let us bleed to death if she can" grumbled Anger. "After what Harry said…well…oh…who needs him anyway? I'm sure he and Hermione can have a nice time canoodling now that Ron's gone and can't spoil the fun, aren't they?"

"Anger, please!" Sadness said with as much conviction as he could muster. "Please! We have to get back somehow!"

"We'll follow the course of the river back." said Fear, to the surprise of the other two emotions. "I'm not going to let Ron risk Splinching, so we'll go it on foot for a few hours. If it seems like we're going in the wrong direction, or if we're too far away, we'll try Apparating again".

Anger glared at Fear, making it clear that he still didn't want to go back at all, but made no objection otherwise. They began wearily trudging down the riverbank, Fear taking command of the console both to look out for more assailants and to contemplate the reception Ron might have when he returned.

After a long walk through the forest, they finally came upon the clearing where Ron remembered the camp had been. Only now the place was deserted – Fear knew they wouldn't see it under the Disillusionment Charms, but there wasn't even the soft humming noise of the Muffliato Charm to tell that there was something hidden from sound as well as sight. Harry and Hermione were gone, and the emotions silently allowed Ron to process the harsh truth that he would probably never find them again.