Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you staying, or what?”
“I…” She looked anguished.
“Yes – Yes, I’m staying. Ron, we said we’d go with Harry, we said we’d help – “
“I get it. You choose him.”
“Ron, no – please – come back, come back!” She was impeded by her own shield charm; by the time she had removed it he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron’s name amongst the trees. After a few minutes she returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face.
“He’s g-g-gone! Disapparated!” She threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry.