❝𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲?❞
❝𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦.❞
𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 had a few, perhaps a little or more than a palm of qualms in his life. First up was the whole "The Boy-Who-Lived" shenanigans, then there was an ungodly am...
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LXXXIII. YOU AND ME IN UTTER DESOLATION
━━━━━━
"I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said I'll never let you go"
MARJORIE LANDED HARD, KNEES BUCKLING as her feet plunged into the slick, muddy earth of a vast, desolate field. The impact rattled through her body, but the sudden shift in her surroundings left her disoriented, breath catching in her throat. She had been surrounded by dense, familiar woods only moments ago, the comforting enclosure of trees now replaced by an expanse of open land under a dreary, overcast sky. The rain pounded relentlessly, soaking her to the skin, and the fierce wind tore at her clothes and hair, whipping it across her face in tangled strands.
Blinking rapidly, Marjorie struggled to make sense of the jarring change. The cold gnawed at her, the sensation too sharp to ignore. She felt as though she had been ripped from one reality and dropped into another, her thoughts scrambling to catch up.
Then, it hit her.
Ron had Disapparated.
And he had taken her with him.
Her eyes blazed as the truth sank in, fury boiling up from within. She had been standing near Harry and Hermione, who were locked in their intense discussion with Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait just before the argument erupted. Harry and Ron had clashed violently, words spiraling out of control, voices rising until the very air in the tent seemed to vibrate with tension. And now, standing here in this wasteland, drenched and trembling, Marjorie realised the full scope of Ron's impulsive actions.
Ron had fled.
And without any warning, he had dragged her into his escape.
Her heart thundered in her chest as she spotted him a short distance away, standing motionless in the rain. His head was tilted back, rain pouring down his face, but there was no defiance in his posture — only defeat. His figure looked small, dwarfed by the sprawling, empty landscape around them.
"You dolt!" Marjorie cried as she stormed toward him, her boots squelching through the thick mud as the wind screamed around them. Her voice cut through the storm, harsh and unforgiving. "What the hell were you thinking? How could you let that bloody Horcrux win?"
Ron didn't react. He didn't flinch or snap back at her like she expected. Instead, he stood there, rainwater mingling with the tears that streamed silently down his cheeks. His shoulders sagged as if they bore the weight of the entire world, and the sight of his raw vulnerability knocked the wind out of her fury.
