Harry Potter Oneshots

A Night of Mistakes

What had he done? What was he doing here? How could he have been so stupid?

These thoughts swirled in Ron's head, weighing him down and pressing on his shaking legs. Unable to hold himself upright any longer, he collapsed onto the sand in an undignified heap. The anger that had burned so fiercely inside of him just hours before had died down, fading into nothing but self-loathing. He wove his fingers through his hair, his head in his hands, and tore at his scalp, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears that were straining their way forwards. His legs were drawn up tightly against his chest and he rocked back and forth, biting his lips so hard that the metallic tang of blood soon wet his tongue.

What had he done?

A singular sob tore out of his throat and he dug his heels into the sand, not caring that the sand sunk into his socks and grated at his skin. The waves lapped gently at the shore in a gentle rhythm and gulls cried overhead, singing their mournful song.

What had he done?

He had lost them, that's what. He had stupidly decided to abandon them, leaving them alone in a forest with a mountain of spells separating them from him. He had walked out on Harry and Hermione simply because things had gotten hard. Because things were uncomfortable. Where was his Gryffindor loyalty? His courage?

Even with the heavy weight of self-disgust, his chest felt lighter after giving up the horcrux for just a few hours, but he wouldn't give himself the courtesy of blaming the guilt on that locket. He knew where the blame fell.

After his scalp could take it no more, Ron dropped his hands and wrapped them around his knees, somehow drawing his legs closer to his body. He stared glumly at the horizon, a distant line fading fast into the rising gloom of dusk and a new question bloomed in his head, drowning out his litany of others.

What was he going to do?

There was no way he could find their tent again, especially in the dark. He couldn't wander around aimlessly--he learned that lesson from the group of Snatchers that had found him within minutes. But really, he already knew the answer. He had apparated here, to the beach of Shell Cottage, for a reason after all.

He spared a glance over his shoulder at the quaint cottage, sitting pristinely on the cliff's edge, and saw a shadow of a figure moving about in the downstairs light. A second light flicked on above it and he knew they were home. But that was never his worry.

Ron stared up at the navy sky, blinking away tears, and wondered if he could handle his brother's disgust on top of his own. At least Bill would be better than the twin's. Than Ginny's. Even his mother's, who he knew would at least do him the honor of trying to hide her disappointment even though she had protested him going in the first place.

He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, seeing stars, and sucked in a breath of salty air. As he breathed out, he hefted himself to his feet and brushed the sand off of his pants. He was going to have to get this over with at some point. He couldn't very well stay out here all night, after all.

Ron trudged up the path that wound its way through shrubs and talls grasses, and finally up to the front door. His head hanging low, he raised a fist and pounded on the door before stepping back, hands in his pockets.

A dull voice sounded through the wood, then the thumping of feet on stairs. The door creaked open, just a sliver, and a blue eye squinted at him for the briefest of moments before widening in surprise.

"Ron?" Bill said incredulously, throwing the door open. He craned his neck out slightly, searching for Harry or Hermione.

"Hey," he responded morosely, staring at Bill's feet. He couldn't even see Bill's expression, but he could imagine the suspicion already seeping out of him.

"What are you doing here? Where are the others?"

Ron forced himself to raise his gaze to meet Bill's. "I... I walked out on them." A beat of silence passed. "And I don't know how to get back to them."

Bill stared at him, his gaze hardening to steel. Finally, he stepped back and pressed himself against the open door to let Ron in.

"You left them?" Bill asked in a low voice as Ron passed. With his eyes narrowed to slits, he watched Ron walk dejectedly and had to purse his lips to stop himself from spewing out irrational and unhelpful criticisms.

Ron nodded, still stunned speechless himself. Sure, he had wondered what they were doing there many times in the past while wearing the horcrux and at the end of a long shift with the cursed locket, he had wondered what was keeping himself there. But never did he think he would act on those asinine impulses.

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter," Ron croaked.

"Yes, it does," Bill said sharply with all the authority of the eldest brother he could muster.

"It's... I made a mistake, okay? Can I just... stay here until I figure out how to find them again?"

"Until you find them again? What do you mean? Don't you know where they are?" Bill asked, his expression flickering between concern and blatant disapproval.

"Er... kind of? I know the general area of where they will be until tomorrow, but I won't be able to find them with all of their protective enchantments."

Bill released a breath and studied Ron, noticing his red and swollen eyes, his shaking hands, his hunched shoulders and hanging head. Clearly, nothing Bill could say could make him feel any worse and besides, what good would that do? So he simply nodded his acceptance.

"Take the door on the left, straight up the first set of stairs."

Ron flicked a quick smile at his brother. "Thanks, Bill. And I promise, I won't be a burden. I'll... I'll help out and I'll be out of your hair soon enough."

Bill nodded again and watched as Ron climbed up the steps, two wands peeking out of his back pocket, poked his head through the door, then disappeared into their small guest room. After a minute more ruminating in peace while wiping up their spotless kitchen, Bill followed him up the stairs into their bedroom, knowing that Fleur would be waiting for his explanation.