look me in the eyes and burn

Chapter 22 - That Picture I Have of You

Unease had been coiling in Ron's stomach all afternoon. His thoughts were racing and his heart didn't seem to want to return to its normal speed.

Even when dinner eventually rolled around, he pushed his food around more than he ate it, leading him to be hungry and worried. It was a terrible combination.

Harry didn't seem to have the same problem. At all.

With envious ease, he simply sat there and chatted with Neville and Dean and Seamus - and just when had the last two put aside their stupid believe in the lies the Daily Prophet told and reunited with Harry? - while enjoying the delicious food. How unfair.

Well, at least Voldemort wasn't also torturing his best friend by making him starve himself.

Ron sighed, shaking his head. It didn't matter. Being grateful to bloody Voldemort for such a small thing didn't make his appetite suddenly grow. If anything, it soured more at the thought of having to be grateful to him at all.

When dinner was over and the house elves emptied the tables, Ron was almost relieved, because it meant Harry would finally leave and go to the common room, where they could lay back and relax, play a game of Exploding Snap or chess, and generally forget all about the terrible day.

Only, it didn't exactly go like this. Almost as soon as Ron had slumped down in the armchair opposite the fireplace, Hermione sat down next to him, a thick book open in her hands and a smaller one landing in his lap.

Ron groaned.

"'Mione, not now." Hermione looked at him expectantly and ignored his whining. Which, yeah, Ron could understand, somewhat, but still - a break. A simple, five minute break from all that reading and researching, was that too much to ask for?

Yes, according to Hermoine.

Rolling her eyes heavenward, Hermione opened the book for him. "Read," she huffed. "I already memorised it. It explains the breaking and dismantling of binding spells, which the both of us will have to be able to do as soon as we know what exactly we're dealing with."

Which, yeah, made sense, still... Ron gave a quiet whimper. He just wanted to have some fun, just for a few moments. Alas, needs must.

Consoling himself with the fact that he would get to go to bed soon enough, he started reading.

xXxXxXx

The whole night Ron was tossing and turning. Peaceful sleep eluded him and when he did fall asleep, his dreams were filled with all that Harry could do to them.

Ron remembered first year and how he'd had to sacrifice himself so Harry could go on and face Voldemort. Even then he'd known that it had to be Harry.

Hermione's frozen form and Ginny's pale body, being lugged through the destroyed Chamber of Secrets made up his memories of second year. Third year with the dementors and Sirius Black - who he'd still believed to be the infamous murderer - and finally the last year, just a few months ago, how Harry had returned with Cedric's dead body. Ron could still hear Harry's cries.

He also remembered how Harry had refused to let go of the body, how he'd thrown himself at Cedric again and again, despite Dumbledore's interference and wondered - had Harry killed Cedric on Voldemort's orders after all? Was that why he had behaved so strange the days after? Was that why he had pestered them for update's on Voldemort's doings the whole summer? Why he had been so incredibly angry and strange even then?

Though, the most worrying thing might be Harry's Patronus, because it wasn't his Patronus anymore. Rather, it was a Phoenix. For some inexplicable reason it had changed, and Ron had absolutely no idea why or how.