A/N: Thank you Gja03 and Invader Johnny for your reviews! Love hearing your thoughts. I'm hoping to take this to four, possibly five chapters.
His mind wandered to visions of plump sausage and crackling bacon, simmering in hot grease. Crispy fried potatoes piled high next to the fluffy mountain of scrambled eggs. Dollops of raspberry jam smoothed over warm, buttery toast. Merlin, he was hungry. When had he eaten last? Yesterday's lunch? He'd been far too nervous before the trip over to Little Whinging to put food in his stomach. It twisted in protest.
"What snacks have you got in there, mate?" Ron inquired, staring at Harry's rucksack. It wasn't large, but a few sandwiches could have easily be stowed away. Perhaps some ham pies, or even a block of cheese and stale dinner rolls his mother usually kept in stock. Surely at the very least, an apple or two. His stomach growled despairingly as Harry shook his head and sighed loudly.
Ron stopped dead in his tracks, causing the other wizard to reluctantly halt in response. "Nothing. You've got bloody nothing to eat? What the hell are we supposed to do?" While he didn't expect Harry to have a feast packed away, he certainly thought he'd have had the sense to bring some morsel of food for the indefinite journey ahead.
"Look, it was hard enough to just pack up my clothes without anyone suspecting I was leaving. Can you imagine what your mum would have thought if she saw me –"
"Sod off," Ron snapped, fully aware that he was taking his frustration and discomfort out on Harry and not really caring if it was unfair. He walked past him, cursing under his breath.
"I've, um, got some muggle money in here somewhere," he heard him say distractedly, digging through his bag. "Ten pounds, and a few coins at the bottom." Before Ron could angrily retort that he had no earthly clue what that translated to in knuts and sickles, Harry continued. "Enough for about two meals, I think. We could find a store or café some place that isn't crowded, and maybe-"
"And maybe what, exactly?" Ron interrupted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Maybe ask politely if they can please kindly allow us to eat without paying so we don't starve the next day, then figure it out from there? Or maybe ask if they sell tombstones with their soup of the day like some kind of package deal?"
"Quit being so dramatic," Harry spat, having clearly grown exasperated with his companion. "I'm hungry too. We'll figure something out. You didn't sign up for a holiday."
Ron was too annoyed and famished to bother responding. They had been steadily meandering through the crooked outskirts of the forest through the night and into the early morning hours. Any time they came close to a village or road, Harry had thrown the invisibility cloak over his body as an added measure despite the cover of darkness. Now that the sun had risen, Ron was seriously rethinking what they had done. They were hours away by foot with literally no plan. Nothing at all. He felt exposed and vulnerable. And hungry.
They walked along in silence, irritation at one another slowly ebbing with each passing minute. While he couldn't see him, Ron assumed Harry was deep in his own surly thoughts. While his empty stomach grumbled hard for attention, thoughts of Hermione soon won over despite his best efforts to avoid thinking of her. He desperately hoped his scribbled message had offered some sort of solace. Regret for not leaving something for his parents sent a pang of guilt through him, but he assumed the one penned for her sufficed for all of them. The message had been as clear as it needed to be – they were leaving, and the rest of them were meant to stay.
As the scorching late July sun continued to rise higher in the sky, he thought of the impending wedding – the first of all his siblings. An occasion his mum had been delightfully engaged in amid all of the tension, the event that was supposed to be full of merriment despite the ominous foreboding over all of their lives. A reason to feel happy, even just days after Moody was killed. Would Bill and Fleur ever forgive him for his absence? His mum had loads of tasks laid out for all of them to complete in preparation for the festivities in two days, and the Delacours were meant to arrive that morning. He officially felt like the lousiest son alive as he kicked a stone as hard as he could.
And would Hermione ever forgive him? Could she understand why this was too great a risk? His father had ties to the ministry, his magical heritage was without question on both sides. Harry had no choice but to go underground. It wasn't fair to have him do this alone, but why put Hermione's life in even more peril? No, she was much better off where she was.
"Well, d'you reckon we should see what might be down there?" Harry finally asked, breaking his reverie as one floating arm was revealed from beneath the cloak. They had crested a hill on the edge of the mossy wood. Sure enough, a few distant steeples loomed over a small smattering of buildings in the next valley. Ron grunted in reply, trudging ahead.
She was positively livid. White hot anger burned blindingly as she crumpled the message in her fist. Salty tears made tracks down her cheeks and the horrid lump in her throat refused to go away.
Betrayal. That's all she felt. How could they? Had it been a cruel joke, a nefarious set-up staged to look like they abandoned her?
Once the debilitating shock had worn off enough for the Weasleys to speculate amongst themselves, Arthur called an emergency Order meeting. Molly put everyone to work before the others could arrive, assigning Hermione, Ginny, and George to keep a look out for Madame and Monsieur Delacour and their daughter Gabrielle. Fred was ordered back to the couch as Molly changed the dressing on his ear, focusing on the injured son before her but clearly a nervous wreck over her missing one.
"Take them 'round the garden when they arrive," she called as the two teenage girls left the kitchen. Ginny clearly empathized with her friend as she ushered them up to her youngest brother's bedroom.
As soon as they stepped into the cramped space, Hermione let out a noise halfway between a scream and a groan. Pulling at her hair, she paced the small room between the two unmade beds as Ginny crossed her arms and leaned against the door.
"You really have no idea where they went, do you?"
Hermione hated the calm in her voice. Ginny might only be a year younger, but had been so removed from all that the trio had uncovered over the years. She had every right to be frustrated with Harry for keeping her in the dark, but Hermione could not help but feel they were not on level ground. What Ron and Harry did to her was far, far worse.
She met Ginny's fierce gaze, taking in the young girl who had grown up so much in the last year. Taking her anger out on her would be futile.
"I have no words," Hermione managed to utter, shaking her head furiously as she continued to pace. It was all too tempting to kick over the flimsy camp bed that had been abandoned when she trusted that they would wait for her before taking any action. "If I had any idea, any at all, I would have hexed them both into next year."
A heavy silence fell between them. The brunette witch continued to shake her head in fuming disbelief, contemplating what she could possibly do.
"Can't you see? It's the same rationale he gave me – that You-Know-Who would use me to get to him."
Hermione took a measured breath, feeling her heart twist tightly. "Gin, with all due respect to your brother, he is not-"
"I'm not comparing Ron to Harry," the redhead countered, reaching out to take the balled up parchment from the witch's hand. "I'm just pointing that he clearly thinks you're safer in the dark." She smoothed out the offensive note.
"But I'm not in the dark!" she wailed, a hint of hysteria evident in her voice.
Hold it together, Hermione.
She tried again, pausing before explaining."I've been there with them, right in the thick of things," she whispered, bringing her hands up to wipe away the fresh tears leaking from her eyes. "I….I thought they would want me. That I could help them."
A sympathetic look crossed Ginny's face and she stepped closer, halting the brunette's pacing. "Hey," she began, forcing the girl to look at her. "They're idiots. They do need you. Frankly, I think they want both of us there. They're just…I dunno, playing the hero. Protecting us damsels from the battle."
Hermione bit back her rebuttal in order to allow the girl to finish, but refused to acknowledge the possibility that either of her best friends considered her as someone who needed to wait on the sidelines for them to do the real work. Just as she was about to reply, she noticed the faint smirk etched on Ginny's face.
"Trust me, I'm in love with the Chosen One."
Hermione momentarily forgot her plight, looking right into Ginny's eyes in shock. "Love," she said flatly. "Gin, did you just-"
"You heard correctly," she said matter-of-factly, letting out a deep breath. "And he loves me too. I know it. I'm not happy about what he's done, but there's nothing I can do now. I knew he'd take off and leave me here."
Hermione couldn't help but smile weakly at the revelation, stated so confidently. She recalled the shy, younger version of the woman who stood before her, pining after the raven-haired boy who was best friends with her older brother. The same boy who had rescued her from the villain in the dungeon five years ago, who now not only threatened their lives, but the entire British wizarding world.
"He said he loved you," Ginny said quietly. She pointed to the four letter word before his name, written in that loopy scrawl. But Hermione shook her head adamantly, curls bouncing in defiance.
"Stop it, Gin. It's not the same thing," she snapped defensively. For Merlin's sake, she was infuriated with him. The handsome, kind, stubborn, comforting man she wished more than anything was standing before her. Just yesterday she had stood in this very spot, summoning all the bravery in her bones to kiss him on the cheek after confiding in him without fear of judgment. And now look what had happened.
She was clearly not needed.
The redhead exhaled sharply, grasping her friend's shoulders. "As I said earlier, they are idiots," she annunciated. "Especially Ron. But Hermione, if you haven't realized by now that he fancies you, you're just as daft."
The words echoed in her ears, making her feel dizzy. But neither had a chance to speak as the door burst open and Bill strode in, requesting that both girls come entertain his bride's family while they continued the meeting.
"Be right down," Ginny promised. As soon as the door clicked behind her eldest brother, she turned again to the distraught witch in front of her. "Give it two days. They won't survive without you."