“Go home then,” said Harry.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” shouted Ron, who took several steps toward Harry, who didn’t back away. “Didn’t you hear what they said about my sister? But you don’t give a rat’s fart, do you, it’s only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I’ve-faced-worse Potter doesn’t care what happens to her in here—well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff—”
“I was only saying – she was with the others, they were with Hagrid—”
“Yeah, I get it, you don’t care! And what about the rest of my family, ‘the Weasleys don’t need another kid injured,’ did you hear that?”
“Yeah, I—”
“Not bothered what it meant, though?”
“Ron!” said Hermione who forced her way between them. “I don’t think it means anything new has happened, anything we don’t know about; think, Ron, Bill’s already scarred, plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you’re supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I’m sure that’s all he meant—”
“Oh you’re sure, are you? Right then, well, I won’t bother myself about them. It’s alright for you two, isn’t it, with your parents safely out of the way—”
“My parents are dead!” Harry bellowed.
“And mine could be going the same way!” yelled Ron.
“Then GO!” roared Harry. “Go back to them, pretend you’ve got over your spattergroit and Mummy’ll be able to feed you up and—”
Ron made a swift movement. Harry reacted, but before he or Ron could cast a spell, Hermione, with her wand at the ready, cried, “Protego!” and a shield appeared between the two boys, not allowing any spell to reach the other.
Harry wasn’t the only one who felt a sudden hatred for Ron: Hermione had become furious at him, but knew that part of his anger was attributed to the Horcrux around his neck.
“Leave the Horcrux,” ordered Harry.
Ron took off the Horcrux and flung it onto a chair. He turned to face Hermione.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you staying, or what?”
“I…” Hermione didn’t know what to say at first. “Yes – yes, I’m staying. Ron we said we’d go with Harry, we said we’d help—”
“I get it. You choose him.”
“Ron, no – please – come back, come back!” pleaded Hermione.
Her shield charm disappeared and Ron stormed out and let the tent. Hermione went out after him, shouting his name, begging for him to come back. Harry continued to stand there, in the warmth of the tent, listening to Hermione calling out for Ron.
Once she returned, she had hair matted to her face from the mild rain.
“He’s g-g-gone! Disapparated!”
Hermione sat herself down on a chair and cried. Harry, who wasn’t sure whether he should hug her or not, just laid down on his bunk and slept.
Hermione couldn’t stop thinking, over and over again, about what Ron said: “I get it. You choose him.”
She hadn’t shown any indication that she ever thought of Harry as more than just a brother, had she? It brought more tears to her eyes to think that Ron could ever think of such a thing. Hermione had always thought of Ron as something more....At least to Harry that was obvious; especially when she showed a whole flow of emotions during Ron’s little “fling” with Lavender Brown.
