Ron approached the pretty little cottage on the cliff edge with legs that felt like lead. This was his last hope. If Bill turned his back on him there was nowhere else to go except in to the sea. He knocked, and heard his brother calling out.
'Who's there? Make yourself known.'
'Bill, it's me. Ron.'
'Prove it.'
'Bill, it's me, your brother. OK. OK. When I was little, Fred and George tried to get me to make an Unbreakable Vow. Dad caught them just in time.'
The door swung open to reveal Bill standing there, his wand still at readiness.
'Sorry about that, but you can't be too careful. Come in. Where are the others?'
'I'm on my own.'
They're not with you? What's happened to them?'
'I…I'm…I'm not with them any more.'
'You walked out on Hermione? You left her? Why?'
'Bill, please…'
'OK, 'nuff said. Come on through'
Bill motioned Ron through to the sitting room. A wood fire burned in the grate, casting a warm glow. Fleur was sat in a chair at the side, knitting. Ron felt even more inadequate as he took in the simple domesticity of the scene. One day, in the future, he could have been part of a scene like this, with Hermione sat …No, he'd given that up.
'Ron, 'ow good to see you! But, where are the ozzers?'
Behind Ron's back, Bill made "No, not now" gestures. Fleur flicked her eyes quickly between the two.
'You will stay, of course. Shall I get you some food?'
'I don't want to cause you any bother, honestly. Could I just get some sleep?'
Bill showed Ron up to a small bedroom, told him where the bathroom was, and headed back downstairs. As Ron crossed the hallway, he could hear low voices coming up the stairs.
'But Beel, 'e 'as not run off and left zem? Ron would not do zat. 'e is brave, like you'
'I don't know, love. Whatever's happened, it looks a bit of a mess. I'll have a talk with him once he's had a sleep. You don't mind him staying here, do you?'
' 'e is family. 'e 'elped save my seester. I do not forget.'
-o0o-
For the first time in living memory, Ron refused extra breakfast. The food he had eaten stuck in his throat. What were they eating now? Mushrooms? Blackberries? He was sat in the warm, eating food that was not his. He felt like a parasite. Fleur looked at him reproachfully, her large eyes sad.
'You do not like my cooking?'
'No, it's wonderful food. I'm just not hungry, honestly.'
Ron had never refused food in his life; he was a stomach on legs. Bill gave him a curious look and tried to speak casually.
'I normally go down to the beach after breakfast, to collect driftwood and get some exercise. Want to come with me.'
It was a steep and uneven path down the cliffs. At the bottom, Bill paused and sat on a rock jutting out from the cliff.
'A chance to get my breath back' he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. Ron sat beside Bill, throwing small stones down the beach in a distracted fashion. Bill knew he would speak, given time.
'I shouldn't be here, I should go. You don't need me butting in. You've got a wife to look after.'
'And who's going to look after you, little brother?'
'Why should anyone want to? Why bother?'
This wasn't the Ron Bill knew. This wasn't the Ron who was cracking jokes, or making stupid comments or talking about Quidditch. The confidence was gone; the cocky – sometimes objectionable – Ron had been crushed.
'I shouldn't have done it, should I?'
They were getting close now. Ron would tell the story in his own words, and it was that which would provide the answers. Bill just needed to be there to encourage the words out.
'I lost it. We've been on the run for weeks, and we weren't getting anywhere. I thought there was a plan, something we were going to do. He's wrong, I didn't think we'd be finding one every day and home for Christmas, but I thought there was some kind of plan. I let him lead, them lead.
That's where I went wrong. I've been second best to them for so long I forgot….they don't know everything. We should have been a team, working together. That's what I did wrong.'
He sat up, his voice growing stronger with realisation.
'I should have been strong enough to take the lead when they struggled. I should have been there urging them on. They can't carry me for the whole of their lives. I was an equal member of that team, but when they needed me I didn't pull my weight. I should have been there for them, just like they've been there for me.
It's like a game of Quidditch. When it's going wrong, I'm in front of the posts, I can see the whole pitch. I should have been directing them, keeping them focused. But I failed them. I failed Hermione.'
Then he slumped back again as realisation broke in.
'I can't help them now though, can I? I walked – I didn't run, Bill, honestly. They moved on, I went back to try to find them, but they'd gone, and I don't know where. What do I do now?'
It was Bill's turn now. 'It's a tricky one. You've got to wait for them to surface again. They will, I'm sure of it. Keep a bag packed and ready to go. When you find them, and you will, tell them straight what you did. Don't try to bluff it.
In the meantime, you can stay with us, I promise I won't tell mum. I'll tell her we want to spend Christmas on our own; you know first holiday and all that. Fleur won't mind, as long as you don't try and put Celestina Warbeck on the radio! Come on, let's get some wood or she'll give me hell! You'll learn that one day.'
'Will I, Bill? Do you think she'll have me back after this?'
'You two have been in love forever, Mum tells me. It's only you two who've never seen it.'
Despite Bill's words, and Fleur's assurances, Ron spent a lot of time in his room. He also took over the wood collecting patrol. It was something he could do to help out. He started to look forward to those solitary walks on the beach. For the first time in his life, he had personal space around him, and time to think. It was a journey of self-discovery, and although there were a lot of things he found out about himself he didn't like, it helped him get all the "mental stuff" in to perspective. There was just that one small doubt now remaining. Was he the one she had chosen?
He spent long hours torturing himself with comparisons. One on one, what did he have that would give him an edge over his best friend? Why would she choose him instead of Harry? In his despair and desolation, he knew he could not answer that question. There was only one person who could.
-o0o-
Ron awoke early on Christmas morning and automatically looked to the foot of his bed, but there were no presents save a small package from Bill and Fleur. This year, there was no Weasley jumper. He missed that. He'd always said he never liked them, but it was as if a link to the past had been broken.
He lay back in the bed, wishing he could stay there all day, but knowing he would have to go down eventually and eat, and pretend just for this day he was happy. He had to do that for their sake.
A radio sat by the side of his bed, so he turned it on, just in time to catch Celestina Warbeck having the heart charmed out of her, for probably the 2,000th time in her life. He imagined his mum listening as well. She was probably already in the kitchen, starting on dinner. He wondered if she was looking at his hand on the clock. What was it pointing to? Mortal peril? Hiding?
'Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone?'
'…Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car?'
He sat up suddenly, that wasn't part of the lyrics. What was going on? Why had she said his name?
'It was never the same again, he had to get a new one.'
That wasn't Celestina. He knew that voice. It was Hermione!! She was in his pocket!! How?
He pulled out the deluminator and stared at it. It held the answer. He clicked it and the light in his room went out, but there was still a faint blue glow form somewhere. Where? He looked around. It was coming from outside the window.
He jumped out of bed and quickly shoved as many clothes as he could in to his rucksack before heading out of the house. Should he leave a note? No. Bill would know what was happening. Bill had always said there would be a way back.
Ron squared his shoulders and opened the back door. He was going back to Hermione; he was going to find out the truth.
It wasn't the day Ron grew up, but it was the day he stopped being a child.
Fin
