I didn’t know what day it was anymore... whether or not it was soon to be Winter or just a long Fall. I didn't talk to Harry and Hermione much those days. When we weren’t walking, I was listening to the radio. So far no names given were recognisable or important to me. I just hoped my family was okay. We were taking turns wearing this bloody locket we seized from Umbridge at the Ministry. Both Harry and Hermione hadn't been able to destroy it. If the brightest Witch of her age couldn't destroy a ruddy locket, who's to say we could destroy any of the others? Last night, I saw Harry getting close with Hermione. They were out in the forest alone together. Whispering. Sniggering amongst them. I didn't know what she was playing at, but I was getting fed up with the secrecy and the game of cat and mouse. She was clearly into Harry. Why couldn't she just bloody admit it before I burst this tent into flames!

Look at her over there... reading that book... looking for an answer. How many times does she have to go through it? There is no answer in it!

“Stop looking!” I screamed out loud.

Hermione turned around at me with a perplexed look. “You okay, Ron?”

Did I just say that out loud? Swallowing the truth, I replied, “I'm fine...”

I sighed, leaning back against my chair, fussing with the radio knob. She turned back around and shoved her nose back in her book. I wonder where Harry could be. Out picking flowers for Hermione, I'm sure. I growled quietly at the thought and hastily stood up. Noticing my movement, Hermione closed her book and stood as well.

“Ron, what's wrong?” her voice sounding soft and sympathetic.

I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just tell her, but the sight of her disgusted me. I dunno why, but I didn’t care. I pushed passed her and walked out of the tent. Harry was walking in at the same time. He seemed distracted. Whatever. I didn't want to talk to him anyway. I thought I saw him glance at me, but I didn't bother to look back.

The night air was crisp. Small breath clouds formed in front of me as I stood staring out into the darkness. I crossed my arms over my chest. Why can't we just go home? This is bloody pointless. Murmurs between Harry and Hermione muffled out from the tent. Aren’t they bloody damn cozy… Them. Together. Alone. It sickened me. What’s wrong with me? Not good enough, am I? You fancy only famous blokes?

My blood began to boil; I picked up a nearby branch and swung it behind my head, ready to attack the tent.

Wait.

I didn't want to draw attention to myself, so I turned around and swung with all my power at a standing tree. A loud CRACK echoed through the forest as the dead branch split in two. At the sounds from inside the tent, I quickly dropped whatever was left in my hand and stood inconspicuously. Harry and Hermione rushed into sight.

“What was that?” Hermione asked.

“Did you see anything?” added Harry.

I stood there blinking a possible answer, but only one thing came out.

“Bird.”

Harry looked at me questionably. “A bird?”

“Yup.” I pointed to a random area to my left. “Out there.”

They both glanced in that direction. Seeing nothing, they looked back at me before retreating into the tent.

Hermione took one last solemn look at me, “Come inside, Ron,” and let the flap close fall behind her.

Git.

I perched myself up against a tree. The cold air was now attacking my lungs. My fingertips were frozen. I should’ve gone inside, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to see him �“ or her. I didn't want to be here anymore! Wanting to just pass out amongst the trees, I eventually convinced myself to go back inside. The other two had already fallen asleep.

Figures.

Don't wait up for me. I’m perfectly fine. I threw myself onto the lower bunk and drifted off into a tense sleep.



The next night, I found myself lying on my bunk, listening to the row between Phineas Nigellus’s painting, Harry, and Hermione. The things Phineas said about my family made my stomach lurch. And Harry? Harry was bloody emotionless when Phineas talked about Ginny. Didn’t he care? Oh wait, I forgot. He fancied HER now... Hermione sat there, staring at the portrait. She was completely oblivious of me.

I lied back in the shadows as Harry and Hermione conversed on the whereabouts of the real sword of Godric Gryffindor. Yeah... keep talking amongst yourselves... like I'm not even here.

“What'd you reckon, Ron?” Harry finally asked, looking around for me.

“Remembered me, have you? You two carry on. Don’t let me spoil your fun.”

I could see Harry becoming agitated with my tone and before I knew it, we were both on our feet, bellowing at each other.

He didn't care! About anybody! Nobody, but himself �“ and Hermione, of course, who was standing up for him. My rage became worse, and all I could think about was cursing him. Neither of them understood what I was going through. My parents could be the next ones dead!

“Then GO! Mummy'll be able to feed you up and �“" before Harry could finish, I had my wand out, ready to hex him. Quickly, Hermione casted a Shielding Charm between me and them.

Prat.

Harry sent me glares full of hate. He had no right. Once the yelling ceased, I realised rain pounded on the canvas above us. I didn't care. I was done. With both of them. I threw off the locket from around my neck and looked at Hermione.

“Are you staying, or what?” I rudely asked.

She stood with her mouth open. Like she even had to answer. I knew what she would say.

“Yes, Ron,” she finally answered. “We said we'd help �“”

“No, I get it. You choose him.”

I wasn't standing for it any longer. I ran out of the tent; the rain immediately drenching me. I could hear Hermione's calls for me from behind. There was no bloody way I was letting her explain ANYTHING. And quickly, without thinking, I Disapparated from them for good.