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A/N.: This third part is about our well-known red-head. Before you read this, I just want to make it clear that I’m fortunate to not having any experience of a war or its effect on people. This is only a work of fiction and I don’t intend to offend anyone. 


Anxiety, though, is a theme that lots of us can identify ourselves with and I imagine Ron would respond to it with anger. What do you think? Please, leave your opinion and enjoy!


- Alright, so...We had just passed the venomous wall of thorns and gone through a narrow corridor, when we came face to face with... Believe me! A whole hoard of acromantulas!! And, I’m not kidding, they had at least 4 feet!


- And you gave up because of that?! Come on, it’s unbelievable that a team of fully capable wizards couldn’t pass through some spiders. – Hermione exclaimed indignantly to the living room at the Burrow full of Weasleys family members (including Harry, sat at the couch with her and Ron, Ginny leaning against his legs) who listened rapidly to Bill’s latest curse hunter expedition.


- You weren’t there! – Bill tried to protest through his brothers’ laughter – There were at least 50 of them, with giant fangs!


Hermione continued to look skeptically at him.


- What would you three do, then? – he asked the trio sat at the couch – At the first sight of the spiders Ron would be already out of the cave!


It was all in good fun but the red-head in question blanched. He only could think to protest:


- No, I wouldn’t!


- Of course you would! – George said, the brothers cracking up again, clearly taking all as a joke.


Ron could feel it. His blood burning, the color rising to his cheeks. He was beyond angry, wouldn’t put it past him to overturn the small center table, crashing everything in it. Just so they would LISTEN, they’d understand that this wasn’t funny. He would never leave his friends in trouble.


Not again.


That was it. He wasn’t mad because his brothers were taking the piss of him. It’s what brothers do. He himself had lost the count of times he was the one laughing at one of them.


But it wasn’t a laughing matter to him. He tried not to think about this betrayal. Didn’t talk about it with anyone, though sometimes he wanted to apologize to his two oldest friends a million times...


The Weasleys couldn’t know since Harry and Hermione were so forgiving they didn’t even tell anyone (except maybe Ginny, who Harry told everything to). But he had abandoned them. Abandoned them in a time when they were in trouble and needed him the most. Hunting those blasted Horcruxes! He abandoned his best mate and the woman he loved in the middle of the woods, with the weight of the world on their shoulders.


Pathetic! Everyone knows you are a traitor to your friends. Even your own family thinks that


A persistent voice in his mind kept saying.


A voice that sounded suspiciously like hissing.


- Ron! – someone shook his shoulder. He became aware of the room again, not filled with loud laughter, but with everyone looking at him, Hermione holding his hand and shoulder, Harry looking worried.


He shook off his friends and stormed to the kitchen, Hermione calling to his back.


This time he did grab the cup on the table and threw it against the wall, smashing it in raining glass. It did nothing to diminish his anger, as he leant in the counter huffing.


- Ok, Ron, you’ll tell me right now what is wrong with you! – Hermione demanded, entering the kitchen.


- Yeah, mate. What happened? – Harry asked by her side.


- How could you just accept it! – Ron turned to them.


- What are you talking about? – asked the witch.


- I bailed on you! Right in the middle of the woods and you just pretend like it didn’t happen!! – he shouted. Harry had thought ahead and put a silencing spell on the room, but he didn’t care at the moment if the whole world heard it.


- That’s what this is about? – his  black-haired friend asked.


- Of course it is! How can you laugh at what they said? Aren’t you afraid I’m gonna do something like this again? How can you trust me?


- Because it is a laughing matter. – Hermione said softly, approaching him. – What happened during the war was a mistake, something we all did at some point. – Harry nodded at this. – And friendship is all about this, forgiving our mistakes and accepting ourselves.


- That didn’t answer my question. – Ron looked down.


- Of course I trust you, you git! – Hermione laughed wetly, her eyes shining – I accepted to marry you! – she showed the silver ring in her finger. – And I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t trust you the most in the world.


She threw her arms around his neck. Above her shoulder, he looked at his other friend, a question in his eyes.


- Mate, Bill’s theory was already flawed. We did face a much bigger hoard of acromantulas together. Can’t get much more loyal than that.


Ron’s anger dissipated, lost in the comforting arms of his best friends. Where his loyalty always lays.

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