'You're such a bloody, fucking git! Go back!'

Those were the words that were screaming inside of Ron's head, but his feet were leading the confused seventeen year old in a different direction. Ron stopped after a few moments in mid run, bending over at the knees to catch his breath after the sprint. Sweat clung to him in cool, sticky patches on his face, neck, and shirt. Irritated, Ron gripped the cloth, trying to pull the moist cloth away from his body.

' I need a bloody bath.' He thought dismally, looking at his ragged appearance, running a hand through his motley fire red hair. Once the adrenaline had worn off, and the teenage wizard was free of the influence of that damn locket, insurmountable guilt besieged him, and he felt his knees wobble with both shame and fatigue.

'you left them' the dark voice in the back of his mind purred cruelly. 'you left your friends to die all alone out there.'

Ron squeezed his eyes shut, leaning against the base of a snow covered tree. Putting his hands on both sides of his head, he shook it from side to side, in an effort to block out the voices.

' You're a pure blood, Ronald. You could be safe at Hogwarts. Instead you're cold, starving, and fighting the inevitable destiny of a new world. You could have all those things, Ronald Weasley…'

Yes, at the moment Ron was not wearing that locket- oh no, he'd abandoned his friends to an unknown fate in the middle of a freezing forest with a powerful dark magic relic.

Just bloody great.

' I- I- I need to go back. They need me. Harry's my best mate, and Hermione is-'

' the mudblood?' the voice questioned angrily. Ron rocked back and forth, pressing his hands tighter against his head.

' She has a name! Hermione Granger, and I lo- I care for her very much!'

' Ah, a pitying move I see.' The voice reminded him.

' No! She means more to than that!'

' A pure blood and a muggle born?'

" Shut Up!"

Ron's eyes snapped open, and he came to the startled realization that he'd been alone the entire time. Gasping for air, Ron's chapped fingers clutched at the spot on his chest where the locket used to hang, which caused the nasty row in the first place. Steadying himself against the tree once more, Ron began to weigh his options of finding his friends, and groveling for forgiveness.

" I'll just try to aparate to the same spot we were fighting at. Surely they couldn't have gone that far, could they?"

Ron steeled himself, shoving the negative thoughts in the farthest compartment of his mind, and focused on their last camping spot- the need to be there. To apologize to Harry, and to see Hermione and beg, grovel for her forgiveness

' She's more than just a friend. You almost lost that over a stupid argument!'

Ron felt the world become compressed as he vanished on the spot, reappearing moments later, slightly breathless, and looking at his hand, he'd realized he'd splinched himself.

'Damn. I have to get over that.' He grumbled.

They were gone. Harry, Hermione, the entire campsite. Gone. Vanished. Like they were never there at all. Fear coiled its way up Ron's stomach, snaking up his vocal cords to explode from his mouth in a choked off scream of pain and utter despair.

' Oh merlin! They're gone! They've left!'

He'd done the worst thing imaginable- and that was let his friends down. No, he'd gone much deeper than that- he didn't just let them down, he'd purposely walked off and abandoned them during one of the most important trials in their entire friendship. Ron paced the area, his mind going in a thousand different directions about which step to take.

' Well, panicking like a git isn't going to help matters much. I'll pop back to my original spot and then-'

Like he knew where his original point of destination was. Infuriated, Ron kicked a large chunk of ice along the path, watching the white ball vanish into the trees. He turned on a heel, disappearing into thin air with a loud crack.

It took all of about sixty seconds to realize his mistake. Unfortunately for him, Ron was pretty much screwed. He'd walked right into a gang of Snatchers. Ron resisted the urge to disaparate again, looking at the gang of hunters (yet the not so bright kind) and began to formulate his next plan of attack. One of the wizard's grabbed him by his collar, leveling his wand at him with a sneer.

"Who the bloody 'ell are you?" he demanded coarsely.

Ron smiled easily, while terror was making mincemeat of his insides.

" Me? Oh, name's Stan Shunpike…."

' Harry! Hermione! I'll find you guys, just hang on a little while longer. I promise.'

Author's Note: I'm starting to become a serious Ronaholic, he's quite the character to dive into writing wise. I haven't read Deathly Hallows in a LONG time, so please forgive me if the scene with the Snatchers is slightly off. On that note, please review. It'd mean a lot to me.

Until next fanfic,

J. Star