For IWSC 2020 Round 4

School: Ilvermorny

Year: 4

Main Prompt: [Action] Searching

Optional Prompts:

[Emotion] Betrayal

[Genre] Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: ~1390

Ron looked aghast as Hermione finished telling him the news. His jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

"What do you mean, he's gone?" he asked, his voice coming out a little bit ruder towards Hermione than he would have liked. He immediately looked a little apologetic, but Hermione nodded in sympathy.

"I was shocked too. But they can't find him anywhere, and the note said he was tired of being the Boy-Who-Lived, and he just wanted to try to be his own person."

Ron's face fell. He wasn't really sure what to feel. This was not the Harry he knew. The Harry he knew had spent his whole life trying to get rid of Voldemort and his followers, so now that the war was over why would he run away?

"So, who all have gone looking?" he asked. Hermione looked confused.

"Gone looking?" She frowned.

"Did no one go after him?" Ron asked. He was absolutely perplexed.

Hermione shook her head, as if the idea had never even occurred to her. "He said he wanted to be left alone. Besides, we didn't make the news public for this exact reason. He has...fans and admirers, the very people he wanted to avoid."

Ron stared at her. "Well I am. Are you coming with me, then?" He had a feeling he already knew her answer, but he had to ask.

"Ron… We did it. Voldemort is gone. The world is saved...and none of us has an obligation to be the Golden Trio anymore. I don't want another adventure or chase. I don't think Harry does, either."

Even though he knew she would refuse, her words stung. He had never considered being a part of the trio, doing everything they did, an obligation, as she seemed to imply was the case for her, and maybe even Harry. But he had just been doing what he knew to do: Be a friend. Be a Gryffindor. Be a Weasley.

He decided he would continue to do that. He wouldn't stand for Harry betraying him and the rest of the wizarding world like this. He would find his friend and make him realise that he was always meant to be the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Can you tell me where he is?" Ron tapped his fingers impatiently on the wooden table. He did not believe this woman sitting in front of him would be of much help, but at this point he had exhausted all other options.

He had spent days casting tracking spells, and going to the places where he thought Harry might be, to no avail.

He had also tried to enlist other people to help him, but everyone had turned away. Even Ginny, who he had thought would be the easiest to convince. The only one even willing to consider it had been his Mum, but she was too broken and exhausted from everything else to be able to actively help him.

So here he was, seeing a seer to know where Harry might be.

"I can," replied the woman with a deep, gravelly voice.

He waited for her to continue but she said no more. "Well? Tell me, then? I need to find him."

She smiled at this, and he didn't understand what was so amusing to her. What was she waiting for? Did she want more money before telling him?

"No, you don't," she said, quite matter-of-factly. "You need to find yourself, instead."

Ron frowned. This was precisely why he didn't like coming to seers. They would never give the information he needed, just speak in riddles instead. He very nearly stood up and left right then.

"You are always in haste, boy," the seer said. "Some things are not to be dealt with in haste. Healing takes time."

Ron glared at her, frustrated at this point. "Will you tell me what I need to know, or not?" He had raised his voice slightly, but he was holding back his temper from flaring too much.

"Very well."

He wondered how Hermione did it and the many others before her, really. Maybe that's why they were all slightly kooky. Staring at a book of existing spells for hours everyday, and for weeks at end, just to try to create your own hybrid was a miserable task.

He had gone to the location that the seer had told him about, and then realized why she had warned him about knowing but not quite knowing where he was.

A few diagnostic spells had told him that Harry had used an Unplottable spell and a couple of standard wards, all of which combined made an unreachable and imperceptible fortress. Unfortunately, using the individual counterspells would have affected some of the other wards, and eventually been unsuccessful.

So here he was, building a hybrid counterspell, and seething with every movement of his wand that he tried out.

It wasn't fair, he thought. Harry got to just run away, like that. Harry got to leave and leave behind everything they had worked for. He was supposed to be Harry Potter, and the three of them were supposed to be the Golden Trio, together. Not some former friends who once killed a madman. They should have been working together still, looking for the last few Death Eaters that were out there, eradicating any future Dark Lords, maybe even becoming Aurors officially…

A bright flash brought him back to reality. The spell appeared to have worked on the small rag he had tried it on. He sighed in relief and put the books away.

In a few moments, he had apparated to a desolate-looking place. He was staring at what appeared to be thin air. He lifted his wand, and muttered a few words, while making the corresponding movements.

It was as if the air exploded, and a house appeared in its place. He walked up to it and knocked on the door.

"R-Ron?" Harry asked in surprise when he opened the door. "Why are you- How are you here?"

"I missed my best mate," he replied.

"Oh. Do you want to come in?" Harry still looked a little confused.

"No, Harry. I came to take you back. You belong in Wizarding Britain, not in the middle of nowhere!" Ron waved his arms around to gesture at the nothingness around them.

"I don't think so. I chose this for a reason."

Ron frowned. He had thought this would be easier, that seeing him would break Harry out of whatever delusion he had worked himself into. "We worked for this, Harry. This is what we fought for, all those years. Don't you want to enjoy it, at least a little? They would give you an Order of Merlin, or anything els-"

"That's precisely what I don't want. Can't you see that? I don't want fame or glory or expectations or prophecies. I just want some time to myself. If I go back, I won't even be able to go out of my house without them hounding me. At least here, I can glamour myself and go out as a Muggle to London, sometimes."

Ron shook his head, unable to understand why Harry would not want the attention he got. "But the war we fought for? What about that? Are you going to leave all of us without anything to hold on to? You wouldn't be anything less than a traitor!"

Harry looked shocked at his accusations. "The war was one my parents wanted to fight, but it was never my war to begin with. I'm done living in the past, in their lives. You should, too."

Ron almost fell backwards as the door was slammed in his face. Before he could knock again, the house shimmered slightly and disappeared again.

Harry had locked him out, again. Ron realised that this really was what Harry wanted, to forget about the past. It seemed to be what everyone wanted, in fact. They all wanted to leave it all behind and start a new life.

Everyone except him. He couldn't imagine a life different from what he already knew. He had actually liked that life, the adventure and the fact that he felt like he was doing something important… Except now he was realising that those were his glory days of the past.

What do you do if, along with the past, the world leaves you behind?