Ron continued staring. He watched as Charlie crouched down. Stared as his father didn't move. Stared at his mum, motionless. And then the shock started to wear off.
"I'm going. Now," he stated, his voice eerily calm. "Those bastards need to die and I'm going to kill them. Every last one." His tone may have been soft and determined but his eyes... his eyes were filled with rage. His wand was in the pocket of his dress robes, same side that was clinging to Hermione's hand. He tried to pry it free. He needed to leave. And then.