Haunted
Harry felt guilt weighing heavily on his mind. Ron was gone, and Harry had cruelly – callously – taken the opportunity to finally hold Hermione, without a jealous glare from Ron making her flinch away.
Ron had left them, and lost his claim to haunt them still.
But that didn't stop Hermione from checking over her shoulder whenever they hugged, didn't stop Harry from beginning an apology to an empty space whenever they kissed.
But Ron had betrayed them, not the other way round, and so he had no right to echo through the space like an unspoken-of barrier between Harry and Hermione.
So Harry buried his face into her soft, lemon-scented curls, and ignored the disapproving shadow in the corner of the tent.
It was only a ghost.