The Sounds of Regret
Missing Moment: Book 7: 11.
Ron going to Shell Cottage
By Toffrox33: Toff: Ravenclaw
He was making a lot of noise.
In his anger, he stomped over the dry leaves and brittle twigs which littered the forest floor that he walked across. Any branch in his way was roughly shoved aside, sometimes the branches were small and weak. They would break off and fall to the ground with great cracks that echoed through the woods. The sound of his rage filled the forest's silence. It was all he heard, streaming through his consciousness, stopping him from thinking, or feeling anything else.
When he first started walking, breaking the first branch, there was another sound. He thought she might have been crying, but he didn't turn to check. He convinced himself that he didn't care and stuck with that. The echo of her pleas followed him through the woods for a while, mingling with his own explosive anger. But eventually, the echo faded away… And now he could hear nothing but explosives.
He continued to walk until the trees stopped. He emerged onto the bank of a stream. With no more trees to break and snap, the sound of his rage died away. Instead the stream babbled along, and Ron was suddenly hit with the incredible, pressing weight of what he had just done.
The absence of the locket around his neck was a noticeable relief. He could suddenly think with a lot more clarity. He found he could barely remember what he had been thinking back in the tent, as he yelled at his best friend.
Slowly, he sat down on the wet grass and tried to think. His ears were ringing from his forest rampage.
What had he been thinking? He knew the risks they'd taken. He had promised to stay with Harry. He promised Hermione…
Maybe Dumbledore hadn't given Harry a specific plan like they'd thought. But they were still so much closer than anyone else in the country was to defeating You-Know-Who…
He should go back. He knew he should. He wondered whether they'd let him return, or whether Harry could ever forgive him.
But this wasn't the first time they'd fought. They'd both said horrible things to each other before.
Plus, this was a war… there was so much tension surrounding them constantly. They were bound to get a little wound up. Not to mention Ron had been wearing the locket at the time… and he still hadn't eaten properly in days.
Would Hermione forgive him? How would they react if he went back now?
He could imagine walking back into the tent, filled with shame. It would be tough, they would probably be really angry.
But at least he'd be with them again.
Ron groaned into his hands. He had to go back. He had to fix this. The babbling stream kept on babbling, but without the sound of his own rage surrounding him, everything was silent. He wasn't used to being alone. He needed to get back to Harry and Hermione.
So he stood up, ready to head back. But as he turned around, the silence was interupted.
Out of nowhere, a group of five men had appeared in front of him. Ron felt his heart sink as the leader grinned toothlessly at him.
"Well, well… 'oo do we 'ave 'ere?"
It was over. They were gone.
Ron sat in the middle of a patch of grass, which bore the unmistakable signs of having been flattened by a tent. His voice was hoarse from yelling, and his fingers were aching and drenched in blood from where he'd splinched himself. He'd spent days in the forest, calling out, trying to find the spot where they'd been camping, but when he'd finally found it, there were no protective spells, no tents and no Harry or Hermione.
Ron was finally alone. Sitting there under his own badly cast disillusionment spell, trying to avoid snatchers, while he cradled his injured hand and sat in the silent forest, searching desperately for his friends.
But his friends weren't coming back and he wasn't going with them. He would have to go somewhere else, somewhere safe, and try to find some way to get to them again.
It would do him no good to sit on the flattened grass and wallow in the sound of his own regret.
Fleur sat up sharply from where she'd been lying with her head on Bill's lap. Bill looked up from tuning the radio to frown at her.
"Did you 'ear zat?" Fleur asked, looking around the room warily.
"What?" Bill looked around aswell, straining his ears to listen for unfamiliar sounds. Before Fleur could answer him, there was a bang on the door. Fleur jumped and let out a quiet yelp. Bill's eyes narrowed. He leapt up and drew his wand, heading to the front door. "Who's there?" He asked. Fleur came up behind him, clutching his arm with one hand and holding her wand with the other.
"It's Ron." Came the familiar voice of Bill's brother. He sounded weak, tired and upset. Fleur felt Bill tense. She could see the physical change in her husband as his big brother senses kicked in.
"Ron?" Bill said in surprise. Fleur squeezed his arm in warning. Bill glanced at her before realizing his mistake and turning back to the door. "Prove it!" He called. "Who did we disguise Harry as at my wedding?"
"Cousin Barney." Ron replied, his voice strained. "We took hair from some muggle guy in the village and used it for polyjuice…"
Bill considered this, trying to decide whether that was enough. Then Ron groaned in pain and Bill shoved his wand in his pocket and wrenched the door open. Fleur stepped back as Ron stumbled inside. She stared at him in shock. They had had no idea what Ron and Harry and Hermione had been doing together, but clearly it was not pleasant. Ron was covered in dirt and had more than one blood stain on his shirt. His hair was overgrown and he hadn't shaved. His face was grimy and streaked with tears and one of his hands was covered in dry blood. Bill helped to steady him and Fleur hurriedly shut the front door and followed the two men to the couch.
"Ron, what happened?" Bill asked. Ron grimaced. Bill gently took his injured hand and lifted it up to inspect it.
"Splinched." He muttered. "Not the first time." He added. Bill started to peel off the blood-soaked rag that Ron had tied around his fingers. "S'not as bad as it looks… Just a few fingernails gone." Ron winced as Bill held his hand up to have a closer look. Fleur took over and cleaned the dry blood off of his arm with her wand. Bill let her take the hand as she started to heal the raw cuts on the tips of his fingers.
"What happened to you?" Bill asked in shock. Ron grimaced, more from emotional pain than physical, it seemed.
"I left." He croaked.
"What do you mean, you left?" Bill asked.
"Me and Harry had a big fight. I got really mad… so I left."
Fleur stopped healing the cuts and raised her eyebrows. She stared at Ron in open-mouthed shock. He left?
"You left Harry and Hermione?" Bill asked, his own eyebrows rising. Ron avoided his brother's eyes.
"I didn't want to… I just got so angry. It was really hard out there. We didn't know about anything that was going on… and we had nothing to eat or anything. And then there was…" Ron stopped abruptly, having almost revealed something he shouldn't have. "I was just in a foul mood, and then Harry and me got arguing and Hermione took his side and I left. Then when I realised I was being a git and tried to go back I ran straight into a bunch of snatchers, and after I escaped and did this," he gestured to the hand that Fleur realised she should be finishing up healing, "I couldn't find them again. Ow!" Ron yelped and pulled back. Fleur had jabbed one of his cuts with her wand. Hard.
"Sorry." She snapped. But she wasn't. How could he have left them? What sort of friend was he?
Bill gave her a warning look. "Why did you come here?" He asked Ron. Clearly Bill was annoyed with Ron aswell, for abandoning Harry, but ever the caring big brother, he didn't mention it.
"Only place I could think of." Ron shrugged. "I knew that home was out… Fred and George would of killed me, not to mention Ginny." He looked sheepish. Bill managed a half-smile.
"You're right, they would have." He agreed. Fleur finished healing Ron's hand and conjured a bandage for him. "Maybe you should go and get washed. Have a bath or something."
"Okay." Ron flexed his newly healed hand. "Thanks." He said to Fleur. But she just glared at him. Ron sighed and headed to the hallway. He turned around at the last minute to face Bill. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to try and defend his decision… but then he changed his mind and left the room in silence.
Once he was gone, Fleur turned to her husband. She opened her own mouth to make an angry remark, but Bill interupted her without turning to face her.
"He regrets it, Fleur. That's enough."
But as Ron settled down upstairs, sinking into the tub of warm water, he could hear nothing but the waves crashing onto the shore outside. He knew without a doubt that it wasn't enough. And it wouldn't be enough, until he heard the sounds of his friends voices again.