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Burn My Sins Away (4/5)
Previous part found here
Offsite archived here
That night Ron dreamed about the end of the world. He was in that hallway again, Hermione unconscious on the floor, the room shaking down around them. He could feel everything he felt then, the same trapped panic, the anger, and the stubborn calm that assured him that no matter what they would get out of this just like every time before.
Harry was there of course, inevitably, blood dripping from that damned scar. Ron could see his mouth moving, knew that he was yelling at him to go, to take Hermione and get out while there was still time but Ron didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want to fail him again, inevitably.
“No, mate, not this time!” Ron heard himself saying but could hardly hear it over the rumbling. “I’m in it with you till the absolute end.” He stumbled as the floor shook, his eyes never once breaking contact with Harry’s.
“Don’t you get it?” Harry screamed, the words echoing through every moment after. “I’m the last horcrux! If I don’t die then Voldemort wins!” Harry grabbed him by the shoulders and shook. “I can’t do this if I have to watch both of you die too. Don’t make me do it.” His voice broke then with the strain of either grief or rage, Ron was never sure.
He and Harry stood like that for an eternity until Ron felt something break deep inside. He dropped his gaze only to find himself enveloped in a quick, bone-crushing embrace and then Harry was gone. With a strangled sob he bent and picked up Hermione. He turned and stumbled down the endless hallways never looking back.
Ron woke with a start to the piercing sun and infinite dust of Africa. He stared blindly at a nondescript wall, the dream still playing out in front of his eyes. He felt something loosen and he laid his head in his arms and sobbed, his tears cleaving rivers in the dirt.
Part 5
Previous part found here
Offsite archived here
That night Ron dreamed about the end of the world. He was in that hallway again, Hermione unconscious on the floor, the room shaking down around them. He could feel everything he felt then, the same trapped panic, the anger, and the stubborn calm that assured him that no matter what they would get out of this just like every time before.
Harry was there of course, inevitably, blood dripping from that damned scar. Ron could see his mouth moving, knew that he was yelling at him to go, to take Hermione and get out while there was still time but Ron didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want to fail him again, inevitably.
“No, mate, not this time!” Ron heard himself saying but could hardly hear it over the rumbling. “I’m in it with you till the absolute end.” He stumbled as the floor shook, his eyes never once breaking contact with Harry’s.
“Don’t you get it?” Harry screamed, the words echoing through every moment after. “I’m the last horcrux! If I don’t die then Voldemort wins!” Harry grabbed him by the shoulders and shook. “I can’t do this if I have to watch both of you die too. Don’t make me do it.” His voice broke then with the strain of either grief or rage, Ron was never sure.
He and Harry stood like that for an eternity until Ron felt something break deep inside. He dropped his gaze only to find himself enveloped in a quick, bone-crushing embrace and then Harry was gone. With a strangled sob he bent and picked up Hermione. He turned and stumbled down the endless hallways never looking back.
Ron woke with a start to the piercing sun and infinite dust of Africa. He stared blindly at a nondescript wall, the dream still playing out in front of his eyes. He felt something loosen and he laid his head in his arms and sobbed, his tears cleaving rivers in the dirt.
Part 5