Dumbledore didn't give Ron the Deluminator because he knew Ron would leave
This claim makes no sense. How was Dumbledore supposed to know that Ron would leave? Ron didn't leave in any circumstances. Ron left after being badly Splinched but never recovering properly, all while starving and freezing for months, while being mentally tortured for about 12 hours every 24 hours for months, while feeling hopeless because the trio was not moving forward with the Horcrux Hunt, and then again only after he learned that his sister had been cruelly punished, that another of siblings had probably been injured, after feeling invisible and useless while wearing Voldemort around his neck, and after a fight during which Harry himself unwillingly confirmed Ron's worst fears and told him to leave three times.
Ron would have never left otherwise, especially if you remove the "mentally tortured for months" part.
Was Dumbledore supposed to guess Harry would have the brilliantly stupid idea of putting a Horcrux around his neck?
And even then, Ron only wanted to leave for a few minutes - no, scratch that - for a few seconds after he Disapparated. He just couldn't come back right away because of the Snatchers. Think about it: if Ron hadn't fallen right into a gang of Snatchers after Disapparating, the Deluminator would've been useless ! (and side note for the people who think Ron couldn't have come back because of the wards put around the tent; Ron definitely could until Harry and Hermione left, in fact Ron did come back to the spot where they were though it was too late, and Harry and Hermione themselves knew Ron could technically come back since they dragged their feet before leaving and waited until the very last moment).
This to me relies too much on unlikely probabilities to make sense.
Even worse is the fact that the Deluminator only started to work once Hermione said Ron's name. Let's even assume that Dumbledore somehow read the future and knew Ron would leave and wouldn't be able to come back; somehow the object you give to him to ensure his way back doesn't work on its own? Ron can't just want to come back, he has to wait for somebody else to say his name first?
What a half-assed plan.
And for the geniuses who somehow claim that Dumbledore knew all along that Ron would leave: if Dumbledore had such an insight into Ron's character even if it made zero sense for Ron (Ron!) to want to leave Harry, how come he didn't predict that Harry would not want to hear or say Ron's name again if Ron left, and that Hermione would follow his lead?
None of this making any lick of sense, I'm presenting to you the more probable idea that Dumbledore knew the trio might be separated at one point (this was already way more likely, there were many scenarios in which the trio could be separated... for example, the trio was even separated at the Ministry even if it wasn't their plan !), and knew that whatever happened, Ron would want to be reunited with his friends above all else (like, for example, Harry not only feared his friends would leave him, but was also tempted to go on the Hunt alone; had the friends split, he might have thought that somehow this was for the best and that looking for them would endanger them), that Harry and Hermione needed Ron to function properly, and that out of the three of them, Ron was the more likely to get the trio together again.
Thus having the Deluminator work when Harry or Hermione said Ron's name makes more sense: if they were separated, one of them could call Ron for help and Ron would come to them no matter what.
So, I've already shared this theory on twitter, I'm not sure if anyone else already came up with this idea, but I'd like to discuss this further and love to gather some varying opinions, new ideas etc. I'm absolutely certain it's not free from faults in consistency, but hear me out...
What if Albus originally constructed the Deluminator back in his resourceful teenage years, after dealing with extensive research on the "Obscurus" matter, for the initial purpose of providing a mean for the family to handle Ariana whenever she suffered one of her unpredictable (Obscurus) seizures? To protect her and their surroundings by temporarily carrying her into this mirror world where she wouldn't be able to harm anyone, including herself.
Additionally, it could've been a mean to control the Obscurus power in general by establishing "light" in it's darkness and bringing Ariana back into "reality" safely and above all gently. This might also explain why he used this exact tool on Aurelius.
Another consideration for additional pain and depression: Albus might've unintentionally taken the Deluminator to Hogwarts this specific summer... Therefore it wasn't available when Kendra needed to use it to soothe Ariana and protect herself.
A "what-if" moment inspired by Ron's return to the Horcrux Hunt. Written for @romioneweek.
This ficlet starts out pretty dark, but if you follow it all the way through, I promise you’ll find the light.
Never Again
The dreary darkness of winter sets in, making the days inside the tent long and the nights even longer.
Although it’s technically Harry’s turn to take watch, Hermione offers instead, knowing by her friend's red-rimmed eyes that he could use the sleep.
And she needs the walk. After all, each time she lays in her camp bed, all she can see when she closes her eyes is Ron — and there goes her sleep for the night.
She wonders where he is now, if he's okay, if he's trying to find a way back. Shaking her head, she makes sure that the locket is secure around her neck before exiting through the open flap of the tent.
It doesn't do her any good to dwell on scenarios.
Hermione's tender, fragile skin is hit with freezing cold air as soon as she steps outside. She spots frost bitten trees all around her, mixed with the beauty of snow dancing from the sky to the ground. A cold breeze slithers down her back as the chilly winter air makes her shiver until she burrows her nose even further into her wool scarf.
Burrow. The Burrow. Did Ron make it back home? She longs for the smell of Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and the warmth of a wood-burning fire.
The surrounding silence can be interpreted as frightening, but for Hermione, it’s providing a sense of calm — a calm she hasn’t felt in so long. The only sound she can hear is the crunch of fresh snow beneath her already frozen feet.
As she trudges up a powdery hill amidst the cold night, she spots something faint off in the distance, compelling her body forward through the snowy banks. Hermione maintains a trained ear as she careens closer to a beaming light, always listening for sounds that could lead to danger.
Withdrawing her wand, she approaches an icy pond, encompassing a cracked, glittering exterior. Curiosity consumes her and she can’t help but take a tentative step onto the slippery surface.
Hermione’s breath escapes her lips in short, visible bursts as she wills the nerve endings in her body to relax, knowing how precariously placed she is above a slate of ice that could give out at any moment. However, that light still remains. Crouching down so that she is eye level with the ice, she can make out something glittery and deep red beneath the surface.
Is that...no. The sword of Gryffindor! But, how is this possible?
She doesn’t stop to question the appearance of the treasured relic for a moment longer, knowing she must do anything she can to retrieve it. But how?
With fumbling, shaking fingers, she points her lit wand directly at the ice. The extra brightness makes it easier for her to see the precise location of the sword, knowing which exact part of the ice she’ll have to break.
Just as Hermione starts to believe she has a plan, she doesn’t realize she’s standing on a weak point in the ice until it’s too late. She falls through the broken crack, and in moments she’s submerged into cold water that sucks all of the air right out of her lungs. Her body goes rigid in shock — she can’t breathe, she can’t think, she can’t even scream. All she can feel is searing pain.
Despite the intense attack to her senses, she resists the impulse to hyperventilate. She’s smart enough to know that the pain is a way for her muscles to communicate properly with her brain. The icy place she came from was strong enough to support her once — she can try again. Summoning the last bit of strength she can find, she kicks her feet towards the surface.
Just as she can see the light and the small opening in the ice to allow her head to move above water, a tightening sensation around her neck constricts her airway, causing her to gurgle and choke underwater.
No. The Horcrux.
Hermione fights the suffocating chain around her neck as her limbs flail about through the water. Her hope fades as she starts to drift out of consciousness.
This can’t be the end. But she is now convinced it is. Just as her muscles are about to give out, and her fight ends, Hermione finds her body gradually making its way upward by an unknown force, and the light that had grown dim is now brightening once again.
She’s flat on her back in a matter of seconds, the solid surface soft enough for her to know that she’s landed on a snowy bank next to the pond with no threat of falling through the ice looming over her again.
“Hermione! HERMIONE! Oh God, please wake up. Wake up!”
The voice is distant, faint even, but it’s familiar enough for her to recognize exactly who it is.
Ron.
Is this possible? Is he truly here?
Hermione attempts to open her mouth, but no sound comes out. All of her energy has been depleted, and all she can see is white light. Is this a hallucination? Is this what death feels like?
A body hovers over her unmoving form. He’s crying now, that much she can tell from the choked sobs she can hear growing louder and louder. “Her-Hermione, please.”
I can hear you, Ron.
“Please, this can’t be the end, this can’t be the end.” His voice is frantic, hurried, shaking her body with significant force as he rests his cheek against her chest as if he’s checking for a heartbeat. Hermione honestly can’t tell if her heart is still beating or not, but she wills herself to feel Ron — to allow herself to grab hold of his arms so he can bring her back to safety. She can’t leave her boys yet. There’s still so much to do, so much she wants to say-
All of a sudden she’s gasping, water sputtering out of her mouth as she sharply inhales cold air into her burning lungs.
“Ron.”
Finally, she can open her eyes, finding herself staring straight into a pair of deep azure orbs, wild with terror.
“Oh, thank Merlin.” He wraps a strong, solid arm around her shoulders, folding her into a tight embrace. Being so close to him, like this, he’s warm — like the fire she has yearned for — nestling into her icy cold skin.
“Hi,” Ron’s raspy voice murmurs into her hair, frantically rubbing his hand up and down her shoulders. “I’m here, I’m here.”
“Am I dead?” Hermione croaks. She still can’t quite believe that Ron is here.
Much to her surprise, he lets out a barking laugh that rumbles through his chest. “No, you barmy witch. You’re not.” Lifting her chin, he locks eyes with her as a visible swallow rolls down his throat. “If you were, I-I might as well be too.”
A flood of emotion infiltrates her bloodstream, the bubbling anger she once felt — God, she was so angry at him — seeping out of her.
“I thought I was...going to have to...give you mouth to mouth to...re-resuscitate you there,” Ron pants with the slightest of smiles, his entire body trembling.
“As long as you came to, it wouldn’t have been a bad thing,” he adds, clearly trying to ease the tension and take their minds off of how bleeding cold they both are. Hermione doesn’t even know how to process the implications behind his statement, and she doesn’t have the energy to rack her brain for answers.
There’s so much Hermione wants to tell him, to give him a piece of her wand over leaving her for starters, but she can’t seem to find the words behind her teeth chattering. Her cheeks feel rubbed raw, earlobes burning from the sheer cold, and her fingers move slowly as they reach up to touch her hair that drips in wet, yet somewhat frozen ringlets around her face. It all makes her wish that she had decided to wear something more water repellant before leaving the tent.
“Bloody Hell, you’re so cold. Here, let me-” Ron moves to stand up, but Hermione catches his hand before he severs their physical contact.
“Don’t leave. Don’t leave.” She pleads with him to stay, and he’s back on the ground beside her in an instant.
“Fuck, I won’t,” Ron breathes out, letting his forehead rest against her own. “Never again.”
Never again. Those two words are a simple reminder of how terrible the Hunt has been without him. She allows herself to take a moment to relish being close to him again, to have him voluntarily wrapped around her, attempting to keep her safe and warm. There will be time for yelling, time for hashing out their issues later — as long as she doesn’t succumb to hypothermia first.
Ron, still appearing to be unimpressed with the amount of shivering she’s capable of, frowns as his expression turns stony. “Now, can I just say...are...you...mental?”
“I could-could ask you the same question!” Hermione argues back, her lower lip still trembling. Although there is clear anger behind her retort, she buries her nose into the crook of his neck, finding the hot breath reverberating from her mouth off of his skin to be the only source of warmth at this point.
Her eyes catch something sparkling in the snow. She suddenly remembers: Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the Hat. Although having the sword progresses their mission, Hermione can’t help but think that Ron presenting himself when she needs him the most matters more.
“The sword. You got it!”
“No, actually,” Ron shifts slightly, pulling Hermione fully onto his lap in a gesture that sends new blood pumping through her veins. “You did. You already had a hold on the sword when I pulled you up. Don’t you remember?”
No, she doesn’t remember. How is it that she even reached for the sword, when all she can recall is searching for ways to swim up to the surface? Perhaps the sword floated its way into her hands, knowing that she needed it?
Maybe her wand hit it with-
"My wand!" Hermione exclaims out loud, head whirling around as she searches for the familiar vinewood.
"I've got it.” Ron pats the back pocket of his jeans. “I'll give it back if you promise not to hex me with it."
She fixes him with a glowering stare, which seems to be enough for him to hand over her wand without any further resistance. A wave of relief washes over her as she’s reunited with her one sense of security, twirling the vinewood between her bony, frozen fingers.
“What are you doing here? How did you find your way back?” Hermione is ready for answers and Ron nods at her with a set jaw, as if he’s prepared for her onslaught of questions.
“I’ve been looking for you both since the moment I left,” he insists. “One night, I was clicking this.” He holds up a small, silvery object, which Hermione recognizes immediately.
“The Deluminator,” she gasps in surprise, knowing her suspicions were correct that Dumbledore knew there was an intended use for the trinket beyond just flicking lights on and off.
“I clicked it, and I heard your name — like a whisper.” His voice grows soft as Hermione feels the rapid beating of her heart picking up speed. “A little ball of light hovered over me, then it went straight through my chest.”
Ron’s finger pokes the spot on his chest, quite near his heart, where the ball of light went through. His finger slowly sags downward until it interlaces with Hermione’s hand.
“Next thing I know, I’m here. And I see you trapped under the water-” He pauses, eyes darkening with a cloudy mist. “Fucking terrifying it was. I reached my hand down and pulled you up. Complete dumb luck that you were so close to the surface. I’m not sure what I would’ve done...I’m not sure either one of us would’ve made it out of there.”
“I hope you wouldn’t have been reckless enough to jump in after me!” Hermione admonishes.
The heat of his gaze stills her protests. “You know I would’ve.”
Hermione mimics Ron’s earlier gesture, bringing their foreheads back together as their noses touch, breaths mingling through the frosty air. Her fingers thread through the hairs on the nape of his neck, desperate to feel him, to reassure herself that he is still here and not just a figment of her imagination.
Ron pulls her even closer on his lap, if that’s even possible. “Hermione, I’m-I’m-”
“Don’t.”
“But, I need to-”
“I know,” she interrupts again, keeping her eyes closed as she tastes their intertwined breaths, lips so close they could almost touch. “But not right now.”
Hermione doesn’t want anything to be said that could ruin the moment. For now, she just wants to be with him. Soon they’ll have to make their way back to the tent before the frost takes them, row with each other like they’ve never rowed before, figure out how to destroy the Horcrux with the sword, reunite with Harry, but for now…
Now she just needs to hold onto Ron, and never let go. Never again.
In 1998, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were captured but managed to escape but at the cost of the house elf Dobby’s life. Peter Pettigrew also perished. The trio also broke into Gringotts Bank. The Battle of Hogwarts occured and Harry Potter defeated Voldermort for good, but not before Snape was killed (amongst others). Minerva McGonagall became headmistress of Hogwarts and Kingsley Shacklebolt the acting Minister of Magic. ("Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows", Bk)
Ron, playing with the deluminator: And...put out the light!
Hermione, a Shakespeare scholar trying to sleep: Ronald! You can’t reasonably expect a young woman in a war worlds away from home to be able to sleep after you say things like that! I’ll expect to be strangled in my sleep! Especially with you wearing that damn locket!
Ron, exasperated, hasn’t read Othello: I don’t get it.
Harry, also hasn’t read Othello: Neither do I, mate.
Rufus Scrimgeour : This is not a joke, Potter! Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?
Harry Potter : Interesting theory. Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So is this what you’ve been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch? People are dying — I was nearly one of them — Voldemort chased me across three counties, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there’s been no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!
