Shadows of Regret

Ron would never forget the awful feeling that had flooded him last night as he had watched Harry and Cedric disappear from the maze. For so long, Ron had envied Harry, envied the fact that he was idolized and worshipped, envied that he seemed so much more confident and worthy than poor, inadequate, stupid Ron. Harry had money, fame, and status, and Ron had none of those things. He was made fun of for his hand-me-down clothes and shabby possessions, and more often than not, jealousy raged inside him.

Harry always seemed so unafraid, willing to do whatever it took to accomplish his goals. Through all the adventures Ron had participated in with Harry, he had felt honored to be a part of them, but he knew he wasn't the hero. For Merlin's sake, Hermione did so much more than him too; even in her petrified state, she had done more to help in the Chamber of Secrets than he had. It was her, after all, who discovered the monster in the school was a basilisk.

But it was at the moment when Harry and Cedric disappeared that Ron felt his stomach plummet, and for a split second, he felt like he would lose everything he had eaten in the hours previous. For so much time, he had believed Harry to have put his own name in the Goblet of Fire. He, who was supposed to be Harry's best friend, had let his jealousy blind him, believing the delusion that Harry had wanted all the attention.

Even when he had finally gotten a clue and realized he was wrong, envy still ate at him, corrosive and destructive. It wasn't until Harry and Cedric went missing that all his senses awoke, and he was pummeled with the knowledge that this entire thing had been a setup. And now Harry was Merlin-knows-where, and Ron was useless as usual, unable to fight beside him when it mattered most.

As the minutes passed and the noise of the crowd intensified into a roar, Ron felt more and more nauseated. Where was Harry? What was happening to him? He had put his arm around Hermione on one side, Ginny on the other, and all three had sat, the intensity of their shaking increasing as time dragged on.

And then, Harry had returned. Nothing could have prepared Ron for the sight that had met his eyes then. Harry, his composure gone, trembling and sobbing and clinging to Cedric, who lay glassy-eyed and frozen and so terribly, horribly, unimaginably still. Cedric, who Ron had also said disparaging things about, Cedric who Ron hadn't cared less about before, but who was now unresponsive and vacant and never coming back. He was dead.

The rest of that night had blurred together into one long blob, and even now, in the light of morning, Ron could barely see straight. All he knew was that in the span of one day, everything he thought he knew had changed. The universe had shifted, and nothing would ever be the same again. And as he sat here in the hospital wing with Hermione and Ginny, he had never been more terrified, nor felt more regret for his past behavior, in his entire life.

He turned to Hermione, and what he saw on her face scared him even more. Throughout there four years at Hogwarts, Hermione had always seemed to have the answers; she had never doubted the direction their lives were going in. But looking at her now, the fragility and fear in her eyes almost undid him. For once, Hermione Granger was as vulnerable and lost as he was.

It was Ginny, however, who voiced what all three of them were thinking. "What do we do now?" she whispered, her own eyes full of the rawness and shock they all felt. "Where do ... where do we go from here?"

"They think he did it," Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible, but the horror in it couldn't be more apparent. "They think Harry murdered Cedric."

Oh yes, Ron thought, her words making it real all over again, because that was truly the worst of it, wasn't it? It was bad enough that Harry had endured the trauma of last night. It was bad enough that Ron's guilt was almost suffocating him. It was bad enough that he had been jealous, and suspected his friend of betraying him by not telling him how he got past the age line. Ronald Bilius Weasley had already been the worst friend imaginable, and now, he was terrified that he would still be a failure. After all, how could he possibly shelter Harry from the vicious conspiracy theories that were circulating around Hogwarts now?

He, Hermione, and Ginny had heard the snatches of conversation as they had sat in the Great Hall eating breakfast. As they'd looked around the room, they had seen many students with tears streaming down their faces, grieving for their fallen classmate. But they had also seen the speculative looks and heard the low whispers that had penetrated through the hall, and the murmurs of "Potter" and "murderer" that had buzzed through the atmosphere like a hive of venomous bees.

It had taken everything Ron possessed not to go storming over to the whisperers and punch their lights out. How dare they perpetuate such lies! They shouldn't even be allowed to say Harry's name! They were a bunch of cowards who didn't know the meaning of loyalty if it bit them on the arse.

But, Ron thought as Hermione let out a small sob beside him and he put an arm around her, I've been a disloyal coward, too. Has Harry truly ever grabbed for attention? Did he want any of this? And Ron always drew the same conclusion now: the answer was always a firm, resounding "no".

Ginny spoke up again, and even though there was fear in her eyes, her voice was suddenly strong and unyielding; the uncertainty and vulnerability were gone. "We fight for Harry, that's what we do. We prepare to fight You-Know-Who, and we defend Harry. We know the truth, and we won't let the bloody Ministry and those other stupid fools win."

Ron stared at his little sister, and his heart swelled with love and pride. Ginny was afraid, just like him and Hermione, but she was standing tall. And as her eyes bored into his, Ron vowed to do the same. There was no more time for envy, for wishing things were different, for doubt and uncertainty. There would be many battles to fight in the coming days, but Ron was now truly going to be Harry's best friend. He would meet them all head-on, and counter each attack blow by blow.

"Yes," said Hermione, who had now regained her composure and was looking at Ginny with pride as well. She exchanged a glance with Ron, and squeezed his arm. "Whatever it takes."