I don't own Harry Potter…
Sorry for the late update, but I'll try my best to keep it weekly.
Hope you like it! (Sorry if you don't.)
"Gone? Ran away?" His mother's voice seemed far away, and Ron unsteadily stood up, snow soaking into his trousers. He felt tears burning in his eyes as he stared into the distance, hoping to see a figure.
"Yeah…I –" Ron didn't let his sentence finish, but started walking in what he hoped was the same direction Harry had.
"Ron!" His mother called and Ron felt her grasp his wrist. He tried to pull away. Didn't she understand? It was all his fault – he said those things, he upset his friend to the point of running away…when had he left? Whilst Ron was eating, cursing all Harry Potter related thoughts in his head? When he slammed the door into Harry's expressionless – no, shocked – face?
"Stop! Mum!" Ron suddenly wrestled himself from her grasp, turning to face her. Tears were now running freely down his cheeks, and he was trembling slightly, wrapping his arms around himself to try and stop himself from falling apart. He knew he must look like a wreck, but she didn't understand – he needed to find Harry, he needed to apologise…or he could never forgive himself.
"Ron." His mum spoke gently, stepping back to give him space.
"I need to find him – I gotta…" Ron trailed off, wiping away some tears fiercely. The wind howled and made him stumble slightly. "It's my fault." He whispered. He turned away from him mum, not wanting to see the disgusted face she must be wearing.
What kind of person am I? Certainly not a good son.
"We argued and – " he broke off, feeling a lump rise in his throat. The words he had spat at Harry seemed to be echoing back at him now, louder and harsher. Harry's wounded expression – the one he hadn't bothered to read – was dashing back into his mind; for once, he wished he could hold his temper…if he had…
He was crying. In the middle of the snow in the yard, eyes stinging and hair tousled, he was crying loudly and uncontrollably.
Soft, warm arms suddenly gathered him into a hug that he had forgotten, acting as a barricade against the outside world. Ron melted into it, letting his head rest on his mother's shoulder and clutching her as if she was a lifeline. In a mess of snot and tears, Ron closed his eyes, relaxing in the embrace.
"I told him…horrible things…" Ron muttered, his face in her shoulder. "I…said that he didn't understand – he didn't know what it was like – having a family…I – "
"Shh…" his mother soothed, gently walking them inside. Ron hadn't even noticed they had been moving until he almost tripped on the threshold. He didn't protest when his mother didn't let go of him, but hugged him harder.
"Ron…" she said. Ron looked up and saw she wasn't actually mad at him like he thought she would be. Instead her eyes shone of worry and forgiveness. "I know you didn't mean it, I can see that easily. As long as you are regretting what you said – which you clearly are – then in my eyes, you never did anything wrong on the first place." She smiled slightly, brushing some snow out of his hair.
"Mum, I made him run away and now we don't know where he is!" Ron ran a hand through his hair. "What if never –"
"We will find him, Ronald." His mother said firmly.
"Find who?" His dad asked, walking into the room. He looked from his wife to his son, his slight smile fading into a frown. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"Harry's gone missing." His mum said after Rom didn't answer. His father blinked for a few seconds, pushing up his glasses.
"What? Gone? Why?"
"He got upset." Ron breathed out a sigh of relief as his mother didn't elaborate. His dad, getting over some of the shock, furrowed his eyebrows in thought.
"We are going to look for him, I hope?" He said and Ron nodded. "Did he have his wand with him? Anything that might help us trace him?"
"I don't know dear." His mum turned to him. "Ron, did you – Ron!"
Ron ignored his mother's call and sprinted back up the stairs, flinging open the door. He heard Percy question behind him, but didn't answer, scanning the room, praying –
But there it was, holly wood and Phoenix feather, lying forgotten in the side of Ron's bed where Harry had been sitting a few hours before.
"You prat!" Ron shouted. He wasn't sure whether it was directed at himself or Harry. He picked up the wand and ran out of the room again, almost smashing into Percy.
"Ron!" His brother jumped out of the way, hastily straightening his glasses. "What on earth is going on?!" Again, Ron dismissed his brother's question and stumbled down the stairs; a few moments later he heard Percy follow. He jumped the last three steps and back into the living room. Bill and Charlie were now standing next to his parents, worry strained on both of their faces.
"If he has his wand I can cast a charm straight away that will tell us when he uses it, and where he is." Bill was explaining.
"That's what I thought." His father replied. "Ron went to check…"
"He…didn't take it." Ron said, holding out the wand. The adults turned in surprise, not realising who came down the stairs.
"Are you sure?" Bill asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern. Ron nodded slowly. His brother sighed, running a hand down his face.
"We still can find him, don't worry." Charlie smiled bravely, placing a hand around his mother's shoulder. "There's always the muggle ways."
"Find who?" Percy asked, looking from one adult to another.
"Harry. He's missing." Bill answered. Percy, like his father, blinked rapidly for a few seconds, processing the information.
"Why?" He stammered. "Out there?" He pointed to the window, where it shown the flurry of snowflakes. Ron looked down at his trainers. His mum, noticing his discomfort, pulled him closer to herself, and Ron didn't pull away.
"He'll come back though, right?" Percy sounded like he was reassuring himself. "Maybe he needed some air –"
"No, I don't think he wants to come back." Ron interrupted, feeling tears burn into his eyes again. He blinked them away, shrugging away his mother's hand.
"We need to find him, now!" He said, pulling on his coat from the hanger next to him. "I don't care if we don't know where he is –"
"Slow down, little bro." Charlie said, pulling him away from the door. Ron almost thumped him. Charlie seemed to read what he wanted to do. "We need to plan who's searching where so we can cover more ground."
"He's right." His father inputted. "Then we can find him quicker and get him back home."
"I'm going to tell F – I mean George and Ginny." Percy said after a few seconds silence, trying to be useful. He breathed in deeply through his nose. "I'm sure they would like to help." When no one argued, Percy nodded to himself and ran back upstairs, hammering on George's door.
"He'll be fine, little bro." Charlie said, following his gaze to the frosting widows. "I know he will." Ron didn't answer, feeling slightly sick.
I'm going to drag him back here if I have to. He vowed mentally to himself, ripping his eyes off the glass and to the wand in his hand. He needs us as much as I need him.
—
"Meet back in five hours, remember?"
His family and Hermione were standing around the front door, Hermione holding his hand. His father was addressing them all, buttoning up his jacket. The buttons were uneven, but his dad was never really good with muggle clothing, but he had insisted on wearing them so they didn't attract attention (He, Ginny and Hermione had already been wearing them after playing quidditch earlier that day).
Ron nodded along with his brothers, gratefully squeezing Hermione's hand.
"And remember, if you find him, send a patronus." His father reminded and took his wife's hand. "Good luck." Then, with a loud crack, his parents apparated. Ron let go of Hermione's hand and turned slightly on the spot, feeling the familiar squeezing sensation throughout his body, as if he was moving through a tube.
As suddenly as it started, it stopped, and Ron found himself standing on top of a hill not too far from his home. He scanned the hill, stupidly hoping that Harry would be waiting there for him, but there was no sign of a familiar figure.
"Harry!" Ron called nevertheless, sliding down the hill. He strained his ears for an answer. "Harry!" He through the rest of the field, searching for his friend. He hoped that the snow would die off, but it seemed to be getting worse: Sure, it wasn't actually snowing anymore, but the wind was still icy and unpleasant.
Ron wasn't sure how much time had passed as he moved through each field. Throughout the search he clutched Harry's wand tighter and tighter until, at the end of the five hours searching, he was sure he was going to break it. Reluctantly, he apparated back to the Burrow, hoping that his family had better news than he had.
