The Potter Twins and the Deathly Hallows {7}

17. It's Quiet Uptown

"There are moments that the words don't reach, there is a grace too powerful to name. You push away what you can never understand, you push away the unimaginable" - It's Quiet Uptown, Hamilton 

When I wake the following morning it is several seconds before I remember what happened. For a moment, I hope childishly that it was a dream, that Ron is still here and never left. Yet, by turning my head on my pillow I can see Ron's deserted bunk. It is like a dead body in the way it seems to draw my eyes. I jump down from my own bed, keeping my eyes averted from Ron's. Hermione, who is already busy in the kitchen, does not wish my good morning, but turns her face away quickly as I go by. Harry manages a smile, but I can tell he too is struggling with the fact. 

He's gone, I tell myself. He's gone. I have to keep thinking it as I wash and dress, as though repetition will dull the shock of it. He's gone and he's not coming back. And that is the simple truth of it, I know, because our protective enchantments mean that it will be impossible, once we vacate this spot, for Ron to find us again. 

We eat breakfast in silence. Hermione's eyes are puffy and red; she looks as thought she has not slept. We pack up our things, Hermione dawdling. Harry and I know why she wants to spin out our time on the riverbank; several times I see her look up eagerly, and I'm sure she has deluded herself into thinking that she's heard footsteps through the heavy ran, but no red-haired figure appears, and she sees nothing but rain-swept woods. Another little parcel of fury explodes within me, and I can hear Ron saying, "We thought you two knew what you were doing!", and I resume packing with a hard knot in the pit of my stomach. 

The muddy river beside us is rising rapidly and will soon spill onto the banks. We've lingered a good hour after we would have usually departed camp. Finally having entirely repacked her beaded bag three times, Hermione seems unable to find any more reasons to delay: the three of us grasp hands and Disapparate, reappearing on a windswept heather-covered hillside. 

The instant we arrive, Hermione drops our hands and walks away from us, finally sitting down on a large rock, her face on her knees, shaking with what I know are sobs. We watch her, supposing that we should go and comfort her, but something keeps me rooted on the spot. Everything inside me feels cold and right: again I see the contemptuous expression on Ron's face. Harry and I stride off through the heather, casting the spells she usually preformed to ensure our protection. 

We do not discuss Ron at all over the next few days. Harry and I are determined to never mention his name again, and Hermione seems to know that there is no use forcing the issue, although sometimes at night I can hear her crying. Meanwhile, I've taken to examining the Phoenix locket by wand light. I'm waiting for the moment everything in my mind clicks, and I'm able to figure out who the Thief in the photograph is, proving that I knew more about Dumbledore than I thought, proving he had some grand plan for us. I continue to dream of young Dumbledore and the boy, too, often finding them locked in a tight embrace, or laughing carelessly as they are in the photograph. It's excruciating not knowing who he is, or why Dumbledore wished for me to know about him. When no recognition comes to me, I find myself simply taking it out to stare at the boy, who, be it due to my mind playing tricks on me or actual resemblance, looks very much so like Draco.

By day, we devote ourselves to trying to determine the possible locations of Gryffindor's sword, but the more we talk about the places in which Dumbledore might have hidden it, the more desperate and far-fetched our speculation becomes. Cudgel my brains thought I might, I can't remember Dumbledore ever mentioning a place in which he might hide something. There are moments when I don't know whether I'm angrier with Ron or with Dumbledore. We thought you knew what you were doing...We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do...We thought you had a real plan!