Ron stood in the background, almost like he was wishing it wasn't true and if he tried hard enough to disbelieve everything would go back to some semblance of OK. He'd not spoken with Rosmerta much since that time, out of a strange sense of awkwardness and the regret was hitting him like a ton of bricks now.
He watched people pay their regards, nodding politely at anyone who inquired to him, insuring them he was fine but not much else.
He clutched his wand from inside his coat with a deathgrip even now, and Dennis Creevey's name was repeated every second in his mind. He hadn't even known why until now. It wasn't that Dennis had killed someone, but that it was someone close to him. He thought of Hermione and Harry and his face got even more red, thinking what would have happened had it been them.
"I'm sorry Rosmerta," he whispered softly, "I'll make sure this never happens again."