The Silver Doe from Ron's Perspective

by reluctantlymuggle

This is not exactly a new creation but Ron's return to the crew in the Deathly Hallows is one of my favorite pieces in the series and I wanted to rewrite the scene where he rescues Harry from the icy pond through his point of view and his emotions. I hope that you guys like this and if not then I hope to hear your comments.

The forest and the Doe from Ron's perspective

Ron was cold, colder than he's ever been before in his life the only other time he got close to this was that one time when Fred and George locked him out of the house for tattling on their gnome tunnels prank. A not altogether unwanted sensation of warm shame spread through his limbs thinking of what they would think of their little brother now and how that pales in comparison to the unlivable, unbearable, cold mass of shame at the thought of his friends.

Gratefully, he finds a large birch which mercifully, seemed to have sheltered a bit of ground from heavy snow. Settling down for the night and leaning back onto the comforting bark of the birch, he closes his eyes, the dread building, 'what if I'll never find them' 'what if I made my choice and I'm not meant to go back-'? He breaks the thought sternly and attempts to find that blissful nothingness of sleep.

Suddenly jolted awake, not quite aware of what woke him. Slowly he stood up, raising his wand as he peered behind his Birch, a silvery mass, a patronus, running towards him, devoid of a caster. He thought that he should feel some form of fear but he couldn't seem to summon that useful emotion as he stood numbly with frigid limbs unprepared for what he might need to do. Then again, he might not need to do anything he wondered, it seemed trustworthy, more than that, familiar and with an increasingly thumping heart he started to walk towards it then run before suddenly a sound pauses him, a crunching of the leaves behind him, too unmistakably heavy and purposeful to be anything but a person. Whirling around the light from his wand brings into stark relief an empty patch of forest. Moving quite slowly he peers around another tree when a shadow seems to flicker in his periphery. Ignoring his mounting fear and with a reckless abandon he moved towards the shadow when one more sound pulled him back around to see an all too familiar figure.

Fully forgetting his quest from mere moments ago, he starts to walk as if asleep, his blood thundering in his ears, his limbs numb but continuously moving separated from his brain. As he walks, willing his reluctant brain and body to life, a distant part of him registers Harry stripping of his clothes and staring at a pond before walking slowly in and submerging. With each moment that passes, the distant voice becomes louder and louder until it comes crashing into his foreknowledge with alarm bells ringing. He's been under too long. Running with all of his might, he leapt and bounded over fallen branches and the banks of the pond to crash down into its depths. Harry was motionless but the locket around his neck was anything but; as if it took Harry's liveliness and made it its own. Horrified by the thought he tried to grab Harry when a glittering thing came into focus. It was a sword, with some kind of engraving gryf…. With a rush, the full knowledge of what that sword was, flooded into his head. In an instant, grabbing the sword in his left hand and a strong hold around Harry's chest in his right, he kicked as hard as he could straight to the surface and struggled and pulled Harry out safely onto the banks.

"I have to get it off I have to get it off' he panicked desperately trying to tug at the chain without progress. Grabbing the sword he attempted to make a gap between Harry's skin and the chain. More resolved and determined than he has ever been in his life, he battled against it until finally he gained the ground that he needed. Without a second's thought he took his opportunity and slid the tip of the sword in to the gap between skin and metal and sliced through the chain. Still holding onto his struggling captive, he carefully maneuvered the sword away from Harry's throat. Whole body numb with a cold that was not due to the icy pond, he threw down the sword and tried to shake Harry's still body until suddenly there was a spluttering and a cough and all of the warmth that he's ever possessed rushed back into every single one of his cells as he exhaled, not even realizing that he had held his breath. It was as if he had just awakened from a terrible dream and he was very startlingly and wonderfully awake.

"Are- you - mental"?" he blurted out as that all too familiar face looked up at him groggy and sputtering scrambling to his feet. "Why the hell didn't you take this thing off before you dived?" he panted in between breaths of air. Harry, looking more shocked than Ron has ever seen him, started pulling on layer after layer staring at him as if he saw a ghost, afraid to look away in case the apparition fades. With another pain at that thought he continued to stand regaining his breath returning Harry's look as a surprising wave of comfort and joy mingled with his shame to make him feel so very much alive and so very "Ron" that the past few months felt like a dream. He was here, finally, alive and ready and he knew looking into those green eyes that he'll be there for them as well as Hermione's for the rest of his life.