Okay so I wrote this on my phone and I couldn't tell how long it was and then I look at it from the computer and it's literally one page I'm really sorry for that. I'll have to be writing from my phone more often because I'm getting a new computer but I'll try to make it way longer.


Chapter 6

A strange feeling grew in his chest when he had watched his sister tear away. It had started when she brushed his hand off of her shoulder, and it only continued to worsen. The low throb right around his heart. He tightened his hold on Hermione's hand with a small sigh. She had sent him a look of confusion, and anger, and utmost betrayal, but he hadn't done anything.

He wasn't smart like Hermione was. Were there signs that he hadn't thought to look for? Their relationship hadn't been healthy in the first place, everyone had seen that, but they didn't do anything about it.

Where did he go wrong specifically, what was the cause of his sister's obsession with his best friend? Why did she declare it as love?

Ron glanced at Hermione, whose fingers were laced with his own in a loose and simple manner. He felt a faint smile tug at his lips.

He had always enjoyed the simpler things, maybe it was a cause of growing up in a home, filled with people, all extravagant even though the house was less than so. His smile vanished in an instant once he remembered the way it had gone up in flames. Those flames still haunted him, taunting him. Any of his family members could have been caught in it, anyone could have been left behind.

"Ron." Hermione whispered, squeezing his hand. He sent her a smile, a sad sort of smile, it was small, but she accepted it and grinned back in response.

Ron's mind was currently a bloody battle field, for lack of other relation.

Some portion of him was glad that he stuck up for his friend, but not all of him was. Some of him was upset that he had allowed his sister to walk away from him like that, she was some of the only family that he had left, so many people had died.

He flinched ago the grim reminder, he had only just gotten off of the train. He studied the carriages, before he was able to make out the outline of the castle before him, that held so many amazing and terrible memories.

Ron ducked his head and allowed Hermione to lead him, trusting that she wouldn't run him into another person as he focused on shaking himself out of the depressing memories.

He stiffened abruptly, causing Hermione to jolt to a stop and immediately try to ease him out of his mind. He wasn't with her anymore, however. He was trapped, surrounded by death and destruction. The echoing of screams filled his mind, polluting his thoughts. A low anger blossomed from the back of his brain, the part of his mind that blamed Harry for everything.

He tried so hard to ignore that part of his thoughts, they were wrong and terrible, but he couldn't rid himself of them, they stayed there, polluted and wrong.

That part of his mind despised Harry for everything that had happened. It blamed him for Voldemort having come. He blamed him for the death of his brothers and everyone else. He blamed him for hurting his sister. He blamed him for tearing his family apart.

Ron took in a shuddering breath and ran a hand through his hair, allowing Hermione to lead him once again. She studied him for a moment, before she looked away and helped him onto a carriage.

He decided to focus on his girlfriend instead, prompting to start a conversation, which worked hesitantly. She crossed her legs and squeezed his hand tightly, for support most likely. He didn't need support, he needed a better mind, and something that would keep his previous one distracted enough so that he would stop thinking the way that he did. He wasn't sure if that was possible though, but he definitely needed to try.