"I wanted to come back as soon as I left..."

Harry and Ron glared at each other through the shield charm.

Ron was breathing heavily, rage burning through him, making him irrational and furious, reckless. He just wanted to get out, to get away from Harry and his stupid lies. His arm and shoulder ached dully; he'd have that stupid scar for life because of this stupid mission. He could have died and Harry only cared about his stupid heroes quest left by Dumbledore which he wasn't even bothering to explain properly.

He'd had enough.

The little metallic heartbeat inside the locket, which hung flush against his chest under his shirt, hummed happily and beat in time with his own.
It egged him on.
It heightened his anger.
It made him want to rip Harry limb from limb and just looking into that stupid face through the haze of the charm made him want to hit something.

To think that he had once called this narcissistic idiot his best friend.

Something has broken between them.

"Leave the Horcrux," Harry said.

Giving me orders as usual, Ron seethed, but if it meant he could leave this wretched tent, fine. He wrenched the locket off from around his neck and cast it into a nearby chair.

He felt a weight lift off his chest, but it had left the lingering anger hot in him.

Then, still burning with fury, he turned to Hermione. Even she made him angry, standing there, next to Harry, through the charm. But the resentment he felt towards her was unparalleled with his hatred for Harry, and he still loved her; for God's sake.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

Hermione looked very frightened. Possibly she had never seen him this cross.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Exasperated, Ron flung back, "Are you staying, or what?"

"I-" she looked at Harry.

Ah.

That was enough. Ron knew what her answer would be.

"Yes... yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we've go with Harry, we said we'd help!"

A transparent excuse. She wanted nothing to do with him. Just as the Horcrux told him, every single time he put it on. A little reminder. Chipping away.

She doesn't want you.

She prefers Harry.

She wouldn't chose you.  

And here was the proof.

Well, Ron couldn't exactly say he was surprised. The confirmation was hard to hear, but he had been expecting it. The dull weight in his stomach only increased.

"I get it," he spat. "You chose him."

And he turned and stalked out of the tent, into the pouring rain.

After a moment, he heard Hermione rush out after him. He started to run.

"Ron, no, please come back!" Hermione screamed. The rain was deafening. The second time she shouted, Ron was mid-Apparition turn, and her cries of "...come back..." were twisted around in the air and lost as his feet slammed into fresh ground, away from the tent and protective bubble, in, it seemed, a completely different forest.

The rain was hammering as hard as ever- Ron was already soaked to the skin. His sling was wet through and the cold wetness was actually soothing the still broken and healing skin of his shoulder.

His breathing was easing up now.
Getting away from the tent and the situation and Harry's burning eyes, he felt his anger start to dissipate. It started to be replaced with dread.

Ron took a deep breath and looked around. The rain made it hard to see much, but it didn't help. He had absolutely no idea where he was.

Then, the realisation of what he had done but him, and he went cold. Panic started rising in his throat like hot bile.

He had abandoned his two best friends and he would probably never see them again. 

"No, no... no..." he whispered, staring wildly around, "I didn't mean it... oh no..."

Oh god.

He'd lost them forever.

"What have I done," he murmured, looking at dripping, shaking his hands. "I want to go back." It meant nothing. How could he ever, after what he had done? Not like he would even be able to find them. He was so stupid.

He flung his head back and felt rain pummelling his face. He stared into the tops of the trees and the black sky above.

"Where are you?!" He cried, as though the universe would answer. "Harry! Hermione!"

He sunk to his knees in the muggy ground. His head dropped.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the sodden earth.