500 Miles

500 Miles

When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be,
I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
When I go out, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
If I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
And if I haver, hey I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you.
"Follow the spiders."

That was what Hagrid had said.

But I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door
Ron couldn't stand spiders - they made him want to scream, want to run and freeze and call for his father to kill the thing.

He remembered, with painful clarity, the sight of his favorite teddy bear morphing into a spider - it must have been only eight or ten inches across, but he'd been, what, four years old at the time? It had seemed to be just as big as he, then. And then it had scuttled straight at him, climbed over his terrified face, and hidden under his bed, where it stayed for a week before finally dissolving into dust.

Ron shuddered. He still remembered how the legs felt, scrambling over his nose.

When I'm working, yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you
And when the money, comes in for the work I do
I'll pass almost every penny on to you
When I come home, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you
His parents had been pleased, in a way, that their children were showing so much magic at such a young age. But Ron been terrified of spiders ever since. Who could blame him?

And now, he had to follow Harry straight into the Forbidden Forest, hot on the trail of millions of the horrid things. He'd rather stay in bed, thank you.

But the sight of Hermione, lying in the hospital wing, cold as ice - it gave him something he rather thought of as bravery.

But I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door
And the sight of her empty seat during Binns' class earlier, and the lack of her waving hands in Herbology, froze his insides even more. He couldn't imagine classes without Hermione.

When I'm lonely, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you
And when I'm dreaming, well I know I'm gonna dream
I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you
When I go out, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
And when I come homefive hundred, yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home with you
I'm gonna be the man who's coming home with you
Not that he liked her, you know, that way. It was just that going through a class without Hermione constantly having the answers was ... unnerving. Life wasn't supposed to be like that. Life included Hermione.

Superimposed on the walls of Hagrid's cabin in front of him, he could see visions of her: Hermione frowning down at a book; Hermione opening her mouth, her face set and determined, about to argue with him or Harry; Hermione, wand poised and ready to cast the perfect spell in Transfiguration. Hermione, eyes lighting up as she understood something suddenly.

Oh, he'd give anything for her not to be Petrified right now. She ought to be here with them - Ron could definitely do with a jolt of whatever it was she did to him. It was like being poked in the ribs and reminded that you had to live life.

But I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door
She was just one of his best friends, that was all, and he hated seeing her hurt.

Really.

And why, why had he let Hermione go off on her own before the Quidditch match? Harry had just heard whatever-it-was; they should have known that there was about to be another attack. How could Ron have let Hermione run off like that? He should have grabbed her, told her that the library could wait. Then she'd be next to them, following the trail, armed with a neat spell for keeping spiders from crawling up one's legs, or already knowing the answers to everything. Ron wouldn't be alone in this whole thing, if only...

Harry was calling Fang over to his heels, saying, "Come on, boy, let's go for a walk." Brave Harry.

Ron thought, for a moment, of chickening out, of telling Harry that the Mandrake Restorative Draught would be ready soon enough, they'd get all the answers from Hermione.

But the door was already open, and Ron thought, yet again, of Hermione's Petrified face, of her bushy hair on the hospital pillow.

And I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door.
Ron followed Harry out into the night.

~fin~