❝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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LXXXIX. A GREATER WOMAN WOULDN'T BEG
━━━━━━
"I'll never give you away
'Cause I've already made that mistake"
HARRY POTTER HAD EXPERIENCED NEAR-death more times than he cared to count.
Admittedly, they all felt the same, and for a moment there, he thought it was getting a bit repetitive; each one left its mark, yet they were starting to blur together in a haze of adrenaline and survival instincts. It was all blending together now — a long, never-ending dance with fate. But nearly drowning in a frozen lake while trying to retrieve the sword of Gryffindor had been a new low.
Because who the fuck, in Merlin's fucking name, would fucking put it there?
As if Harry needed to add hypothermia to his growing list of traumatic experiences. The moment he'd jumped into that lake, the stupid locket around his bloody neck decided to strangle him. Panic had seized him then, cold water filling his lungs, his vision darkening at the edges. He had fought — oh, how he had fought — but his limbs had grown sluggish, the freezing water sapping his strength with every passing second.
And just when Harry thought that maybe this was it — this would be the final end — Ron had saved him.
Of all people, Ron had dived in after him and pulled him out. Badabing-badaboom, they'd destroyed the locket together, the Horcrux shrieking as it dissolved into nothing, leaving only the smell of burning metal and Ron's shallow, heaving breaths in its wake. They had barely spoken afterward, the tension still thick between them from Ron's sudden departure weeks earlier. But the heavy silence between them was better than no Ron at all.
And naturally, Hermione had been furious.
As Harry stumbled into the tent after their triumphant return, soaking wet and half-frozen, he heard her voice first. It was sharp and furious.
"— can't believe you just left! You just ran off, Ron, without any thought —"
Ron stood there like a man condemned, dripping and shivering but clearly more terrified of Hermione than of anything else. Harry, though, had only one thought in his mind.
If Ron was back, then Marjorie had to be nearby too.
His heart lurched at the idea. He hadn't seen her in what felt like forever—days had stretched on, feeling like months. After Ron left with Marjorie, it truly did leave behind an overwhelming sense of emptiness between Hermione and himself. Each night would be filled with Hermione crying in Ron's bunk, all the while Harry himself? Well, he hadn't allowed himself to think about what could have happened to them, not while they were hunting Horcruxes, but now that Ron had returned that meant...
