No One Else (Sequel to Only You)

Famine and Weariness

Ron's Point of View

When Dumbledore's clone set the plate of chunks of bread and water on the table, Hermione and I instinctively grabbed the lot for ourselves. It had been days since we have had a bite to eat. Harry did not look interested by the stale pieces of bread, so I took the liberty of finishing his portion for him. Hermione looked relieved to finally have something to eat, in fact the color was seeming to appear in her skin more and more by the second. I noticed how Harry watched Hermione with the smallest smile played at the corners of his lips, relieved that she was regaining the strength she had lost in the past few weeks.

     As the cold liquid slipped down my throat, I closed my eyes in pleasure and for a moment, felt as if I was placed in a food comatose.

At first, the relationship between my two best friends did nothing but drive a nail underneath my skin, but hardship and time has shown that they don't belong with anyone else but each other. Similarly, I didn't think I belonged with anyone other than Luna. I have not told her that I got Lavender pregnant, but I wondered who Lavender was telling everyone about it all. She had to know that I was the father, she told me. In the midst of my dreaded thoughts I came to realise that I was slurping on my water loudly, a habit I have come to contract whenever I am nervous. With three pairs of eyes set frustratingly on me, I set my cup down and sighed, giving Harry an I'm sorry, I'll pay attention look.

"You're Abeforth, Dumbledore's brother." Harry stated with a plain voice. "You sent Dobby."

     "Where is he, the elf?" Abeforth pressed, his glare now turning upon me, as if I had the miraculous answer he wanted to hear. My gaze darted to Harry's before I blatantly said, "He is dead."

     Abeforth's initial silence sent a wave of chills down my spine, but after several moments, he simply shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that, that was a good elf."

     Behind Abeforth, a small, dirty mirror with a gaping chunk missing out the side of it came to my attention. "Harry," I nodded my head over to the mirror. "Don't you have a piece of glass you've been carrying around?" I remembered from Lun. The memory of her locked up in the Malfoy's dungeon continues to haunt me.

     "Ron?" I heard a small yet familiar voice croak from behind me. A piece of myself fell into shards as the realisation of a poor innocent girl concealed in this dark and terrible place dawned on me. Harry turned around first. He already had tears running down the smooth surfaces of his skin, but when his eyes met the victim's, his expression seemed to lighten slightly, the small smile threatening the corner of his lips disappearing once the terrible sound of Hermione's shrieking shook the grounds of the cellar. I didn't want to turn around. I didn't want to see what Voldemort had done. I stood, my feet planted into the cold metallic floor grounds, feeling unable to even slightly turn my head. As if the victim had read my mind, I felt a dainty hand lightly press against my shoulder, a shudder rocketing down my spine. The touch was too sensitive, too gentle. I whipped around, my harsh eyes meeting the safe ones of Luna's. Pangs of anger went off in my chest as I encountered the purplish blue bruise spread across Luna's cheek, and a deep gash underneath her right eye, displaying hints of infection with the yellow pus festering from the gaping slice. She was breathing heavily, her fists clenched, chest rising up and down quickly as if she was at a loss for everything except air.

She started forwards, and for a moment a thought she was going to hug me, but instead, she grabbed my wrists which were bound with a thick rope, and began picking at the straw like texture with a long nail, sharpened at the point. I opened my mouth to speak, but instantly closed it, watching her eyes in admiration as she worked. Her pale fingers brushed quickly against mine, and for a brief moment, I felt the most happiness I had ever felt in a long time.