I can’t take it anymore! Bloody Dumbledore, not telling Harry where to look. Bloody Hermione, hanging off all of Harry’s ideas. Bloody Harry, dragging us out here with him without a clue of what to do next. There’s no food, there’s no word on my family, and there’s no bloody way to destroy this bloody Horcrux I’m stuck wearing.

And there they go again; Harry and Hermione are chattering on excitedly about the sword of Gryffindor. Like anything they’re saying can help us find it. Like realizing where it isn’t will suddenly let them know where it is. I can’t help it; when they turn to me to ask me something, I snap.

Suddenly all the worry and hurt and anger I’m feeling comes spewing out of me. I shout at Harry and he shouts at me, and we both say things we can’t take back. And Harry makes the decision for me.

‘Then GO!’ he roars. ‘Go back to them, pretend you’ve got over your spattergroit and Mummy’ll be able to feed you up and --’

And I rear back to hex him as he whips out his own wand, but before we can do anything, Hermione puts up a shield charm.

‘Leave the Horcrux,’ Harry says. Like I’d want to take it with me. I turn to Hermione, a question on my lips, but before she says anything I can tell her answer. She’s going to stay with Harry. All those talks we had about how we thought Harry knew more, talks about how disheartened she is, and she’s going to stay.

I storm out with Hermione shouting my name, her voice ringing in my ears. But I’m so angry that I don’t spare a glance back. I stride angrily into the forest, thinking nothing but away as I turn on the spot and Disapparate.

The pressure comes at me from all sides, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

Before I take a full breath I’m regretting my decision. I take a step, intending to Apparate back, hoping to find her, but a hand clamps down on my arm. My eyes trace the arm up to greasy hair, dirty clothes, and a vicious face.

‘Lookie here,’ the prat calls out, low and hoarse. I hear wood snap as four others emerge from the shadows. ‘I think we’ve got ourselves a mudblood, boys.’ The kid, he can’t be much older than me, turns to me. ‘You look to be a Hogwarts brat. Where you runnin’ to?’

I have no idea what he’s talking about, but one of the others, who smells as bad as this first bloke looks, grabs my wrist and wrenches my wand from my head. It takes me a moment to realize I still have it -- had it -- in my hand because I’d tried to hex Harry. The others are talking now, something about the Ministry, and I suddenly remember -- it seems like years and not weeks ago -- what Lupin said about the new compulsory Hogwarts policy. The one that required students to go to the Ministry and prove their blood purity first. The one that would allow You Know Who to track Muggle-borns.

And this lot seems to think I’m one of them.

I tune back in to the discussion as the bloke who seems to be the leader turns to me again. ‘Wha’s your name?’

I panic for moment. ‘Uh, Stan Shunpike.’

‘Huh. Well, Stan, you’re gonna help us get some money. You’re gonna come with us to the Ministry and --’

‘Why?’ I interrupt. ‘I work on the Knight Bus. I’m not in Hogwarts.’ I try to act like I know what I’m saying. The leader seems to be swayed, and the bloke holding my wrist is loosening his grasp a bit.

‘Wait!’ another voice calls. This one belongs to a bloke who looked to be half-troll, worse than Marcus Flint ever did. ‘Ow do we know his name’s really Stan Shunpike?’

‘Wha’da ya mean?’ the leader says angrily, turning from me to face his gang. ‘Why wouldn’ he be?’

‘Maybe he’s lying,’ the other voice calls shrilly. ‘How do we know?’

I watch the row for a bit, and I realize I can get away if the moment’s right. The leader takes a few steps closer to the bloke he’s now shouting at, and it’s time. I pull a move I learned from Fred and George and shove my elbow hard into the stomach behind me. As soon as his grip is loose enough, I pull away, snatch his wand, and Disarm the git holding my wand. I snag it as it spins from his hand, and as soon as I feel it hit my fingers, I twist away, thinking of Hermione and everything I’d left behind.

When my feet hit land, I feel a twinge on my hand, look down, and find that I’m missing two fingernails. I’ve splinched myself. Again. Great. I look to my right, my first instinct to ask Hermione for help, before reality returns and I remember that I’m here because I’d left her behind; it’s a much bigger loss than the nails and hurts worse than anything I’ve ever felt before.

And getting away from that lot put me further from our old campsite than I intended. I recognize the area, but it’s not near where I want to be. I trudge through the forest, listening always for the river. I left them there, where we’d pitched the tent and Hermione put up her wards. If I can just find the river, I can get back to where I belong.

As I walk, I run through in my head all the things I should say, how I can start to mend things with Harry. Because I know that those angry words we shouted at each other only hours ago weren’t said in the heat of the moment. He’s been as frustrated with me as I am with him, but Hermione’s right; we said we’d help, and Harry always told us that everything Dumbledore told him he’d shared with us. I guess I just didn’t really believe it. I really thought that Dumbledore knew more, that he’d told Harry more, about what to do to beat You Know Who.

I come over the crest I remember setting the tent down on just last night, but there’s nothing here. I stand where I stood when I was in the tent and turn slowly, looking around. After five minutes it hits me that they’re gone. They’re gone, and with Hermione’s spellwork and Harry’s Cloak, I’ll never find them.

I sink to the ground, filled with remorse, more guilty and more alone and more angry at myself than I’ve ever been before. I don’t know what to do. I can’t go home; Mum would be happy to see me until I tell her that I left Harry and Hermione, that I ran away. Then I’d never hear the end of it. I can’t go back to Grimmauld Place; it’s probably crawling with Death Eaters. And after that run-in with that gang of I don’t even know what they were, I know I can’t just wander around hoping to find Hermione and Harry.

Minutes, or hours, or days later, I stand up. I’ve got nothing with me, but I learned how to survive on nothing these last few weeks on the run. I can do it again. I can do it for as long as it takes to find them again.

I turn on the spot and land on the outskirts of a small, darkened town. It looks inhabited but only just. I make my way slowly around the furthest buildings, looking for an open window or cracked door. I just need a little food or some warm clothing; it’s going to get cold soon and I can’t stay warm enough with what I’ve got. Though I yelled at Harry about the meagre food options early tonight, I’m willing to take anything I can get.

Just as I’m about to Disapparte out of frustration, I see a sliver of light coming from a doorjam. I whisper Homenum Revelio and there’s only one response. I peer in at the crack and see an old man watching a glowing box. Thankfully his back is to me, but there’s no way I can sneak in now. This is the only open door in town, so I decide to wait until the old man goes to bed. It’s not long before the sound disappears and the light is gone. I hear the creak of wood and the snick of a lock; the old man’s shut the door, but I make a quick decision that I’m going to break in anyway. I can’t have wasted the whole night and come away with nothing, but I’ll do what Hermione or Harry would and not take anything more than I absolutely need.

I use Alohomora to get in. It looks like this is the kitchen, so I quickly open a few cupboards, grabbing small packages from the back hopeful they won’t be missed. I’m back outside within a minute, and I remember to lock the door behind me. If I’m lucky the old Muggle won’t notice I’ve been there. I scurry away from the village back into the cover of trees before looking at what I grabbed. It seems I took some biscuits, a packet labeled Garibaldi, and a jar of Marmite. I’m not sure what any of it is, but I’m desperate.

For weeks I survive by scrounging in cupboards and iceboxes, taking just enough to get buy in quantities I hope are small enough not to be missed. When I can, I shamefully take clothes or money; never much but just enough to survive. I avoid anything that looks like a wizarding house, though when I find one, I try to grab something useful, usually old copies of the Daily Prophet though I got lucky when someone left an old wireless out. I found Potterwatch one night on the wireless, and that’s when I learn about the Snatchers and the Taboo. If I ever find Hermione and Harry again, I’ll have something useful I can tell them.

I spend one afternoon watching a bin labelled “Salvation Army.� Muggles drop clothes and shoes and other things in it, and I realize that if I wait, I can raid it at night and get some good supplies. After darkness falls, I Disillusion myself and creep up to the bin. Inside are jumpers, trousers, trainers in all styles and sizes. I grab a pair of trousers and some jumpers that look like they’ll stave off the chill that’s settling over the country. I nick a set of trainers too, just in case, and when I shift some of the clothing I notice a rucksack in the bin. I snag a strap and tug the bag toward me, and as I do, a sleeping bag topples down from somewhere else, and I think Thank Merlin. It seems like my luck is changing.

I keep to small villages isolated like Ottery St. Catchpole was. Like I’d done with Hermione and Harry, I move up and down the country, never staying in one place for more than a night.

It must be getting on to the end of the year. I see Christmas lights when I get near villages, but I have no idea what day it actually is. Last time I raided a house, I took some paper money from the table. I took one with a twenty on it and am able to buy some real food at a Muggle pub. I sit with the small plate of bangers and mash, more paper money and a few coins in front of me; it’s what’s left from the bill. I’m thinking about using some of it to buy myself some afters when I see the sign for a room to let.

I ask the bartender how much, and when he tells me the price, I look down at the pile of change. It isn’t enough, but I’m in a tough spot, so I confound the man and pass him the rest of the money. From the calendar behind him, I see it’s Boxing Day. This is the first Christmas I missed in all my life, the first one I’ve been alone for, and it’s all my fault. I sit glumly in my rented room, trying to find Potterwatch. It’s tuning between stations when I hear it.

“Ron.� It’s Hermione’s voice, coming out of the radio, saying my name. I look around, but she’s not here, and I hear it again. “Ron� and then “wand.� On instinct I take out the Deluminator, turning it over in my hand. I click it, and it doesn’t do what I expect at all. The lights in the room go out, but there’s this floating blue light bobbing in front of me, beyond the window. It reminds me of a Portkey.

I walk out of the building, the little ball of light floating on ahead, leading me away from the village. As we pass the last of the village’s buildings, the little blue light stops and floats toward me, through me, right where my heart is, and I know somehow that if I Disapparate now I’ll get to where, rather who, I’ve been trying to get to since leaving Hermione and Harry all that time ago.

I Apparate onto a snowy hillside and just deep down know that Hermione and Harry are here. I can’t wait for them to find me, and I’m not sure how I’m going to find them with Hermione’s wards in place, but I have to try. I spend hours walking around, but I try to be smart about it. I walk in larger and larger circles out from where I am, calling to them both. When I can’t walk any more, I call it a night, determined to find them in the morning.

I spend the whole next day wandering around, searching for Hermione and Harry. When night falls again I know they aren’t here anymore, so I pull the Deluminator out again, and the blue light comes on again, floats through me, and I Disapparate. It’s still dark, but there are more trees here than there were at the last site. It’s too dark for me to try and find anything, but I pull my sleeping bag out and sit down to keep watch. I’m hoping to somehow find Hermione or Harry tonight. And as I’m hoping something happens, something does.

There’s a silver glow in the distance. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s safe. I scramble to pack my things and follow the glow. I crash through the trees, not worrying about how much noise I’m making, when I come upon a clearing. I hear splashing and look down to see Harry struggling under the icy surface of a small pond. He looks like he’s drowning and before I really think about it, I jump into the pond to pull him out. His hand is gripping something heavy and I look down to see the Sword of Gryffindor. He’s finally found it, the crazy bastard finally found it! But I can’t think about that now; now I need to get us both out of the frigid water before it kills us. I grab Harry with one arm and the sword with the other and push my way up.

Out of the pond, panting over what just happened, I see Harry scrabbling at his neck where the Horcrux is cutting in to his flesh. I slice the chain and as he comes to, he turns to me, shocked to see the sword and the locket in my hands.

He asks me why I’m here and I was hoping this wasn’t going to come up so soon. ‘Well, I’ve -- you know -- I’ve come back. If -- you know. You still want me.’ It feels good to say it because as I do I know how much I mean it. If Harry’s okay with it, then I’m back, finally, where I belong.