Well, now comes Ron's thoughts after his departure, when he was staying at Shell Cottage ... I thought he deserves to be considered, he's not a prat! Enjoy it!
Lyrics: "The Scientist" – Coldplay
Shared Moments Six: Bloody in love
Come up to meet you,
Tell you I'm sorry,
You don't know how lovely you are.
The cool, grey Christmas evening was closing him, threatening, as he made his way across the street. People was already giving presents each other, laughing, making toasts in family. And he was about to find her, finally, all will be forgotten. And yet … something was wrong in some way, something was strange …
He went on, through the snow, through the icy pavement, bright window lights igniting his way, until he reach the village square: a Christmas tree dominated the scene. And under it …
There was a sick sort of present. The boy sprinted; it could not be true, his feelings could not be real … The shape grew as he caught it up: definitely, it was a person.
And he dropped to his knees, and pulled out the tangled hair out her face, and it was her, and he could not bear it, and then all was a blur and he was dragging her, dragging to the nothingness …
With a violent shaking, he opened his eyes. His whole body was covered in sweat, trembling from head to toe, again that horrible feeling of despair.
The feeling of that he still had no news, that anything could have happened.
I had to find you,
Tell you I need you,
Tell you I set you apart.
Stupid, that was what he was. A bloody, immature kid. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear her screams through the rain, as he made his worst mistake. Months, years, he only know how long, loving her secretly, convinced he had to forget about her, but now … He had heard her, he heard her shouting his name into the night, calling for him to go back, and what had he done? Ran, ran out to them, as the coward that he was …
Why had that evil thing made him see things so distorted as jealousy, insecurity, distrust?
He remembered the whispers in the night he thought they were his, the malevolent thoughts of that Harry has no idea of what they were doing, he was so lost as they were, and they were freezing in a forest, starving, fighting, when they could be at Hogwarts, trying to find a way to destroy Horrocruxes from there … And that she was the best witch but she still wasn't capable of cooking something at least edible, and that all his efforts of being nice with her were fruitless because she didn't even seem to notice that he liked her a bit … And all that drove him mad, mad at them, but now he had his head cold, he had to admit he would have never thought of leaving them.
If he only had a way to go back, to mend the things; where are time-turners when you need them, but that was impossible, he knew fully well the amount and efficaciousness of the spells she had placed over the tent …
Tell me your secrets,
And ask me your questions,
Oh, let's go back to the start
How could he have ruined the things that way? It's not your fault. So, who's? She never said a word, who assures you she even likes you? But that was not the matter. The time of refusing his own feelings had passed, that was what he had promised himself at the end of the last year. Now it was all will be different, he told over and over again to his insides. And he tried and tried, tried to be different, to hear her, to guess what happened inside her head. And she seemed different too, as if something was changing them both … Was it true, was something really changing them? Or it was just another illusion, a mad dream?
After all, he could never find out why he liked her so much. They had been friends since long, that was true, but they hadn't even got along most of their friendship. We are so different, he thought. And how is it that I love her now? Do I love her? Isn't it just a crush? he had wondered many times. And he did love her. He knew it. And he knew, also, that just a miracle might bring him back. To tell Hermione he loved her.
Tell me you love me,
Come back and haunt me,
Oh, when I rush to the start.