Chapter Two: The Walk

Ron was the last one off the train; stumbling onto the platform, sparing only a fleeting glance to the pavement as he stepped down. Little effort had been made to redress himself in a manner suitable for a visit to the Ministry. The buttons on his shirt were crooked if not missing; his bright red hair had the appearance of tiered flames crowning the top of a crestfallen face, and his underwear was a crumpled ball in his pants pocket. He had seen better days and very few worse.

McClaggen didn't wait a second after Ron came to throw his clothes back on and book it out of the bathroom. There would be red imprints on his thighs for days as testament to the disaster this morning had proven itself to be. All Ron had to show for it was a depleted well of anger and a heap of guilt that was threatening to crush him under its terrible weight.

Standing by the brick wall was McGonagall, foot tapping impatiently as Ron languished across the platform, pulling himself out of a stupor for two seconds to flash the Professor a shit-eating grin. "Sorry McGonagall, I had to make myself presentable."

Scoffing, she grabbed his shoulder and propelled him headlong through the entrance into a crowd of his peers all in varying degrees of anxiousness. As the bricks engulfed him, Ron was sure he heard his teacher mutter, "I can't believe you would do that to him."

Ron stopped dead amidst his classmates and felt the enormity of the act he had just committed crush him like an ant. Harry had never factored into his decision to fuck McClaggen or the guilt that came on its coattails. In fact, the only person he had meant to hurt was Hermione but in retrospect, Ron realized sex probably wasn't the best way to go about it. It was ideal that no one ever hear a word of what happened in the bathroom, especially since Ron had to worry about losing Harry now.

Cowering in the back of the crowd, Ron followed behind his friends as they exited the station and made their way up the streets of London. The couples in the group wasted no time in clinging tightly to each other, unsure if the consequences of The Lottery would be detrimental to their relationship. Mostly it was just the guys that need worry, since most men had a very jealous disposition the pressure of knowing your boyfriend is sleeping with a woman can sometimes become too much to handle.

For woman it was the exact opposite. The knowledge that a man had violated their beloved drove them closer together and formed an almost unbreakable bond.

It was an interesting dichotomy that made homosexuality preferable to heterosexuality. Men are better to cope with the boorish behaviors of their sex and women can connect on a deeper emotional level. However, this was just a blanket statement. It was just a matter of personality. Ron knew that if McClaggen's boyfriend found out about the train he wouldn't care because it was just sex. Harry on the other hand would probably implode and become an emotionless nothing. Then again, he was prone to do that already.

Eyes roaming over the large group Ron spotted McClaggen trailing behind a young man with bright pink hair, eyes bloodshot and swollen. Their gazes met for a moment and what Ron witnessed in the depths of the man's pupils caused bile to shoot up his throat. They contracted in fear, eyelids widened and still, stinging from the lack of blinking. What he saw in Ron that morning was enough to create a rift in his mind, leaving him slightly altered forever.

Ron had done that, with only the slightest of whims. Merlin only knew if Harry's reaction would rival the scene before him now.

It terrified him, the knowledge that lives could be shattered in just a stroke of a dick.

Turning away, his attention was stolen by Hermione as she strutted several people ahead of him, absorbed in a conversation with McGonagall. The sun lit her luscious brown locks, subtly bouncing every time her foot propelled itself off the road. Her actions were animated and excited, the way she got when an ingenious plan germinated beautifully before her.

Ron forgot he was mad at her and just wished he could be up there now, rolling his eyes sarcastically at her wild ideas that he secretly thought were amazing. Captivated, he spared not a single more ounce of energy thinking about Harry sitting back at the castle, brows furrowed in concentration as he copied the miniscule notes on Snape's blackboard. No loving detail got lavished on him, no prose, and no guilt. In that moment, Harry was lost to him forever; their emotional connection severed. Ron shed not a single tear.

&

"You're telling me that the Ministry had to actually stun you guys? That's ridiculous! On what grounds did they justify that?" Hermione became more indignant as the conversation with McGonagall explored new depths and brought to light unsettling flaws in the Ministry's conduct over the years.

"On the grounds that we were trying undermine the authority of the Ministry. He denounced us as anarchists and paid the Daily Prophet to smear us in a similar fashion to what Harry and Dumbledore endured last year. If I remember correctly, I was having an illicit affair with some man or another. By the end of it the only thing he had to justify was why action hadn't been taken against us sooner."

"That's so absurd! It makes me sick when I think about it, the way a reputation is discredited with the stroke of a quill."

Only she wasn't really that indignant yet, it was only at the build-up stage right now, and that in itself was going very poorly. Every time an inkling of self-righteous anger shot into her veins, the adrenaline released upon feeling Ron's eyes roving over her backside watered it down within seconds. After storming out of the compartment, the logic-based part of her mind kicked in and the epiphany that all of Ron's behaviors pointedly shouted that he liked her struck her dead in mid-step.

"McGonagall, I will be right back. I need to talk to someone."

"Of course, dear."

Falling back into the crowd Hermione felt bodies brush up against her, moving rapidly forward like a raging river nearing its dangerous pinnacle. Wading towards Ron, her eyes shifted to the right focusing on a couple hidden by the darkness of an alleyway. They were passionately kissing, wrapped tight in each other's arm. A door opened further down the alley backlighting them as they shot apart, eyes contracting with fear. A young man made a dash for it as his girlfriend stood there, wringing her hands, her hair curtaining an ashamed face.

Hermione's heart went out to them. Taking another step, she crashed into a sturdy body. Strong arms reached out to steady her discombobulated stance before she toppled onto the pavement.

"Thank you…" She looked up into Ron's face staring back at her in complete terror. Again she looked to the right at the girl and then back at Ron, whose gaze followed hers to the forsaken lover. She wasn't the only one who had been watching them.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, still holding her tightly.

"So am I."

"For what?"

"This." Moving closer she let her body rest against his chest, head upturned. On tiptoes, her lips caressed his before pulling away, eyes watching for people.

"Let's go," Hermione said softly, taking his hand like a friend. "The group is getting away from us."

Ron allowed her to drag him, still reeling from the taste on his lips. The smell of her hair as it petted his face, the rhythm of her heart against his chest. He knew that if she wasn't pulling him along his legs would turn to jelly and he would melt into a puddle.

In the gloom of the alley, the girl's eyes followed them, tears rolling down her face. "May you find love and happiness," she prayed for them, hands disappearing inside the pockets of her coat. Taking a deep breath, she moved into the sunlit streets, heading in the directions of her girlfriend's house.