seventeen // r.w.

                                    

                                          
summary — ron & y/n recall broken memories of their lives together and dream of a life where they could just be seventeen.
                          
word count — 2.3k
                          
warnings — anxiety/depression. mentions violence, death (memories of Cedric and Dumbledore).
                          
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Ron and Y/N laid together on the cot in the tent Hermione had put up earlier that day, they had just settled for another night on their horocrux hunt. Harry was fast asleep in the cot across the tent, snoring softly. The sound brought warmth to Y/N's heart, knowing Harry was finally sleeping. Hermione was just outside, you could occasionally hear the rustling of paper as she turned the pages of her book.
                          
Inside, Y/N lay awake with her head on Ron's chest. Normally the steady beat of his heart would lull her right to sleep, it had so many times before, so many nights at the burrow or afternoons in the common room when she needed a nap. She felt safe in his arms, but her mind was far too occupied and stirring with anxious thoughts to allow her body to receive it's much needed rest.
                          
She could tell Ron was awake too, he wasn't moving, but the lacking sound of soft snores from the redhead under her gave him away. While one arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, the other laid behind his head, propping him up just enough to watch the mundane, brown ceiling of the tent.
                          
It was nearing the time of their trip where they lost count of the days they'd been hunting. Y/N knew Hermione kept track, it was one of the things that kept her feeling sane. Y/N knew anytime either of them were feeling a sense of doom, one of them would come to the other with a reminder of how many days they'd been gone, it was almost grounding.
                          
Hearing a soft sigh from her boyfriend, Y/N lifted her head to gaze up at Ron. He softly grinned as he looked down at her, he wasn't particularly happy, in fact his mind was also plagued with anxious thoughts, but he couldn't help but feel warmth return to his chest as he looked down at his girl.
                          
"What?" He whispered, chuckling softly at her adorable, sleepy expression.
                          
"Nothing," She shrugged, but his knowing, blue eyes prompted her to continue, "Ok, everything. I miss home."
                          
Ron sighed and ran his thumb comfortingly over her skin. His large hand flexed, splaying over her hip bone and ultimately nudging her closer to him in the process. He leaned down to press a kiss to her hair before he replied.
                          
"I know. Me too." He mumbled.
                          
It struck a nerve, a painful hole in her heart to hear the hope had drained from her lover's voice as well. She counted on Ron to be her light in the dark, and he was without failure, but she knew even Ron Weasley, her golden boy, felt as if he were drowning in the fear of their situation.
                          
"I wonder what Neville and Luna are doing back at Hogwarts?" Y/N wondered aloud.
                          
"Hopefully snogging by now." Ron snorted.
                          
Y/N giggled quietly, recalling the eyes Neville and Luna shot each other while they thought no one else was watching.
                          
"And Ginny?" She continued.
                          
She waited for Ron to shoot back a witty remark, something snarky about his younger sister in pure sibling fashion. But Ron didn't make a comment, he didn't say anything really, and his silence worried Y/N.
                          
"To be honest," Ron finally spoke up, "... She's probably worried sick and missing Harry."
                          
Y/N felt her heart break. She couldn't imagine being away from Ron in a time like this. Worrying day after day that he could be dead and she wouldn't even know. And how would he feel if she had stayed behind? A pit of doom growing in his stomach each night as the radio spit out names.