HP/LOTM: Visionary - 420

Chapter 420: Eruption, Ron’s Departure

They picked up a few scraps of outside news from the group by the fire. Some witches and wizards, kept in the dark by the media, had begun to believe the Death Eaters’ version of events and to waver in their trust in Harry. Others, stubbornly contrary, still spoke up for him.

Harry told himself he did not care, but when he heard there were voices defending him, something warm still moved in his chest.

Hermione, thinking over what the goblins had said about the sword, suddenly froze.

"Merlin, I have got it," she said, springing to her feet.

She dashed to the little table in the sitting area and rifled through the pile of papers until she found Dumbledore’s will.

"The sword. Dumbledore would not have left us the sword for no reason," she said, voice shaking with excitement. "Harry, you remember using it to destroy a Horcrux, do you not?"

“Yes. In the Chamber of Secrets. I fought the Basilisk. The sword cut it, took in its blood, and absorbed the venom,” Harry said. His eyes lit up. It felt as though the days of staggering around blind had finally ended. At last, he had a direction.

"You are a genius," he said to Hermione.

"Think about it," she murmured. "Where would Dumbledore hide the sword?"

"Hogwarts. No… Hogsmeade, maybe," Harry said, thoughts racing.

"Or the Shrieking Shack. We can use Aiden’s book to check their point of view and slip around any Death Eaters," Hermione said.

"Good idea," Harry said, then turned. "What do you think, Ron? Could he have hidden it somewhere away from Hogsmeade? Ron? Ron?"

He got no answer. For a second, he thought Ron had left the room. Then he looked up and saw him lying in the shadowed corner of the top bunk, still as a stone.

"Nice of you to remember I am here," Ron said, voice coming thick through his nose.

"What?" Harry said, wrong-footed.

"Go on. Do not let me spoil your fun," Ron snorted, staring up at the canvas roof.

"Ron, if something is bothering you, you can tell us," Harry said. Something was clearly wrong. He tried to keep his tone calm.

"Fine. Since you asked, here it is. Do not expect me to be jumping for joy in here. We have just added another bloody thing to find, haven't we? Why not just tack it onto your great long list of ‘unknowns’?" Ron said, swinging his legs over the side and dropping down.

"I do not know," Harry said, dropping his gaze. "But it is something, is it not? At least we finally have a lead."

Lightning flashed outside. Cold rain hammered on the canvas with dull thuds, bringing a hard, bleak edge into the cramped space.

Ron sounded as if he had given up on himself. "This stretch has been brilliant, has it not? A wrecked arm. Nothing to eat. Frozen half to death every night. All I wanted was to have something to show for it all."

"And what part of this do you think pays out just because you put the work in?" Harry shot back, patience gone.

"Did you think we were on holiday in a five–star hotel, picking up a Horcrux every other day and popping back into Mum’s arms for Christmas?"

“I thought you knew what you were doing,” Ron said, glaring at him. The next words went in under Harry’s ribs like a hot knife. “I thought Dumbledore had told you more than this. And Aiden, tucked away in that whitewashed place, looking out for himself, not giving a toss whether his family lives or dies. Neither of you can be bothered to share an actual plan with me.”

"Fine. Sorry to disappoint you," Harry said.

He felt strangely calm all of a sudden. The hollow in his chest was too deep for argument. He was tired.

"I was honest with you from the start. I told you everything Dumbledore and Aiden gave me. We already found one Horcrux. Aiden even said the Deep—"

A crash of thunder swallowed the rest of his sentence and knocked some sense back into his head.

"Yes, we found one," Ron said, voice rising. "Destroying it is dead easy. About as bloody easy as ‘just finding’ the rest of them."

"And Aiden. Why does he not just smash the damned thing himself? Oh, I get it. He is a Prewett. Pure-blood Prewett. You-Know-Who’s rule does not hurt him. Helps him, really, does it not?"

"Take it off," Hermione said at once, realising the Horcrux was twisting his thoughts. She reached for the cord at his throat. "Take it off. You would never say this normally."

Ron shoved her away. Harry caught Hermione as she stumbled, anger flaring through him like fire.

"No. This is what he thinks. Do you really think I haven't noticed what you say behind my back? Ron is just putting his thoughts into words."

"Harry, we never—" Hermione struggled to her feet and forced herself between them.

"Do not lie, Hermione!" Ron shouted. "You said it. You told me you were disappointed. You thought Harry had more to go on. Or that Aiden had given him something—"

"I did not say that. Harry, I did not," Hermione said. Tears were sliding down her face.

It was far too late for explanations. Harry looked at Ron. "Then what are you still doing here? Go home."

"Yeah. Maybe I should," Ron said, stepping closer. Harry met his adversary stare for stare.

"You heard what Phineas said about Ginny. Great Harry Potter does not care. You must be thinking, ‘I have been through worse, so what?’ You do not care about anything around you."

"How can you say that? Finding out Ginny is with the others and Hagrid was not enough for me? Anyone who wants to hurt them will have to step over Hagrid’s dead body first," Harry said, face burning.

Ron had already convinced himself that Harry did not care. It did not matter how Hermione tried to pick apart his logic. He would not listen.

"Anyway. Your parents are safe. You lot do not have to worry," Ron said.

The words cut into Harry like glass. "My parents are dead."

"And mine could end up the same," Ron shouted back.

"Then go home. Go back to your house. Pretend you caught spattergroit. Your mummy will stuff you full every day."

Thinking of the fact that he himself was the Horcrux that had to die last snapped what was left of Harry’s restraint. The words came out sharp and cruel before he could stop them.

Ron’s hand twitched. He whipped out his wand and levelled it at Harry. Harry’s reflexes were faster; his fingers were already closing on his own.

Hermione’s silent Shield Charm hit them like a shove, forcing them apart and throwing up a clear barrier between them. For a heartbeat, they stood there, separated by transparent magic, staring at one another as if they were strangers.

Harry told Ron to take off the Horcrux. Ron ripped the cord instead and hurled the gem into Harry’s chest.