[Something, a tight knot in his chest, eases just a little. Everyone's okay. They're okay.
(The space in his chest is quickly filled by guilt, because he really did throw something terrible in Harry's face for nothing. They were all fine anyway.)
Falling into step with Bill, Ron keeps his hands in his pockets, though his thumb brushes his wand where' it's stuffed down his waistband. He probably looks about as paranoid as he feels, but it feels impossible to be anything but.]
Blimey, Bill.
[An uncle. He's meant to be an uncle! And apparently they all survive another year, thank God.]
She's not here, then? No, obviously she's not - how are we supposed to get back? Does anyone know, yet?
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(The space in his chest is quickly filled by guilt, because he really did throw something terrible in Harry's face for nothing. They were all fine anyway.)
Falling into step with Bill, Ron keeps his hands in his pockets, though his thumb brushes his wand where' it's stuffed down his waistband. He probably looks about as paranoid as he feels, but it feels impossible to be anything but.]
Blimey, Bill.
[An uncle. He's meant to be an uncle! And apparently they all survive another year, thank God.]
She's not here, then? No, obviously she's not - how are we supposed to get back? Does anyone know, yet?