- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
A/n: Hello! I apologise for the lateness of this chapter! I was supposed to put this up last Friday but I was running and totally forgot about it right after I post it up at another site, lol. Anyhoo, here it is. Just one chapter left and then it?s done!
No guards dared to stop Harry when he barged in the entrance of Azkaban. You just don’t question the motives of the young man who killed Voldemort, short and simple. It also helped, in times such as this, that Harry had turned into a powerful and confident wizard. There was something about the way he walks that command attention and respect from everyone around him. And when he talks, he looked you in the eyes and stressed every word and one couldn’t help but listened.

He walked straight to the guard on duty at the front desk and slammed his wand on the table, his eyes boring down on the unfortunate guard.

“The two escaped prisoners my team brought in five days ago, where are they.”

It wasn’t a question but an order, and the guard knew this. He also knew he shouldn’t get in the way of a man on a mission. “They’re still in interrogation room four, Shackelbolt is supposed to continue interrogations this-”

Harry didn’t wait around for the guard to finish, his legs already navigating his way to room four, events from earlier that day playing in his mind, building up the anger and need for vengeance even more in him. Harry didn’t really care if he’d end up killing the prisoners once he was through handling them that day, they had it coming.

Harry was having breakfast at the Burrow when Hermione came rushing into the kitchen. She looked as pale as a ghost and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and the sight terrified Harry to no end.

“Harry, it’s Ron!” Hermione practically jumped on him and started crying on his shoulder. Already in his head, the mantra of ‘no no no no’ was playing.

“What happened Hermione?” Harry asked, his voice almost lost in her hair.

“Something went wrong Harry…they had to rush him to the emergency room again! No one would tell me anything! Oh Godric Harry, for a second there, I thought his heart had stopped! That machine started to beep and he was so…still! I don’t know-”

“Hermione, you have to calm down.” Harry coaxed his panic stricken friend. “We don’t want Mr. Weasley to hear this.”

Hermione pulled away from him and Harry noticed that his hands were trembling. “I’m sorry, I was just-”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Harry cut her as he motioned her to sit down. “Do you want to go back to St. Mungo’s and wait for him?”

“I’d like that but I don’t think I can do it alone.”

“You don’t have to.” Harry assured her. “Ginny’s in the shower, once she’s done, she’ll go with you. I’ll owl for Bill and Charlie and get the twins, they’re at the Ministry right now. We’ll all be there when he gets out of that room and then we’ll wait some more for him to wake up. How’s that for a plan?”

“You’ll be there too then, right Harry?”

Harry offered her a smile and a brief hug. “I’m going to tell Moody that we’re not coming to work today and then I’ll be there with you, I promise.”

“Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

The two prisoners were standing next to each other in the middle of the room, with a fairly big space in between them. They were magically bound and rooted to the ground beneath them. Harry also knew it was protocol that prisoners were bind with a silencing spell when left alone to prevent them from discussing or creating a scene.

There were fears in their eyes when they realised it was Harry Potter who had just barged in the room. He didn’t say a single word, just a furious flick of his wand and the binds holding the first prisoner was undone. Harry then switched hands, his wand now in his left hand, he swung his free hand right under the prisoner’s jaw. It cracked on impact and the body practically flew across the room, slammed against the wall and dropped with a loud thud on the concrete floor.

Harry marched over to the fallen body, squatted down in front of him and pulled him back by the hair. The man was half conscious and his head was bleeding.

“That’s for Hermione.” He spat. Not giving the man any time to recover himself, Harry muttered wingardium leviosa, was briefly brought back to the first year, watching as Hermione guided Ron through the spell to save his dangling self from the troll. Swish and flick! He then restored all the spells back to the first prisoner and let him suffer in silence.

He didn’t pause and went straight for the next prisoner. “You’re the one who almost killed him.”

Harry was momentarily brought back to the night when he arrived at the Burrow soon after receiving Ron’s owl. Hermione was cradling him in her arms, his face bruised from being beaten by the very man standing in front of him right. Harry remembered almost losing it when he saw Ron started vomiting blood. A part of him wanted nothing more but to carry Ron himself and get him straight to St. Mungo’s while another part of him wanted to kill the two bastards right there, be damn consequences.

He didn’t undo the binding spell put on the man. Instead, Harry balled his fist and landed the first punch right on his cheek. He punched blow after blow, finally giving his anger and anguish an outlet to release. He did this until the prisoner started bleeding from the nose and mouth and bruises started forming all over his face.

By the time he was done, his face was a bloody mess; just the way Harry had intended it to be.

“That’s for Ron.”

He then stared at the two of them, back and forth, knowing they were conscious enough to endure the pain he had inflicted on them and could hear him loud and clear. “If he dies, you have my promise that I’ll come back again and finish you off. And just so you know, I always keep my promise.”

When Harry reached the front desk again, Remus Lupin was there, and by the look of things, the guard was telling Remus about his little visit to the two prisoners. Harry threw them both a defiant glare and walked out of there. He heard Remus calling out to him but Harry didn’t even chance a glance, he had no time to listen to yet another lecture about Auror’s code of conduct.

“Not now Remus! I have a promise to a friend to keep!” And with that, Harry disapparated.

-

The sixth time Ron woke up, it was in the middle of the night, the room was dark, save for the dimly lit light nearby. Surprisingly, he felt a little better than the last time he had woken up. The headache was now reduced to nothing more than an annoyance and he was still feeling a little numb to feel any pain coming from the wound.

But what surprised Ron the most was the silhouette of his dad, slumped on the chair by his bed. He was staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts.

This time, Ron couldn’t just ignore his visitor and willed for sleep to come like before. “Dad?”

His voice sounded raspy, from lack of use, but Ron was glad his throat didn’t hurt as much as he had expected.

“Ron?”

“Dad, what are you doing up this late?”

His dad had gotten up from the chair and was now hovering above him, looking him in the face, as if he couldn’t believe that he had finally woken up. “Oh thank Merlin you’re finally awake! Are you in pain son?”

Ron shook his head and offered a smile to assure his dad. “I’m fine dad, you shouldn’t stay up for me.”

“You’ve been asleep for six days Ron and your brothers wouldn’t let me come and see you, told me not to worry. A load of crap that was.”

Ron wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the comment or cry, seeing as his dad was on the brink of tears himself. “I’m alright now though, and you’re not well yourself, you shouldn’t be up dad.”

Arthur Weasley snorted. “You weren’t well yourself and yet you still take care of me ever since your mother wasn’t around to do that. I’m your father Ron, it is in my nature to worry about you when you’re fighting for your life in St. Mungo’s.”

Ron shifted, trying to lift off the kinks he was getting on his shoulders when he noticed the drips. “Dad, what’s this they’ve poked in my arm?”

Ron saw his father’s face almost lit up immediately. “That’s a muggle device Ron. Healer Lennon said they had to minimise the use of magic because your body was getting too weak to handle it. From what Hermione’s mother told me, that colorless potion in that bag will help make you feel better.”

Hermione’s mother?


Seeing the puzzled look on his face, Arthur Weasley continued, “You got everyone worried about you Ronald. It made the front page of The Quibblers because you are Harry Potter’s bestfriend. We almost lost you son and…I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself if you had died.”

Ron pushed himself up on the bed carefully and leaned heavily against the headboard. He then lifted his right hand and Arthur reached out and held it in his. “It is not your fault if I died Dad, you can’t blame yourself for something you can’t control.”

“I know that son.” Arthur said almost in a whisper. “But I will blame myself for holding you back.”

Ron frowned. “What do you mean you’re holding me back? You did no such thing Dad.”

“Are you sure about that? I’m useless ever since my injury. You stayed behind to take care of me. Your mother would beam with pride if she could see you do the laundry and cook us a decent meal without complaining about it. You’re the one who wake up every night when I have one of my fits. You never fail to take me to St. Mungo’s for my check ups when you could have easily moved me to permanently stay at St. Mungo’s and have the healers there to take care of me.”

Ron couldn’t believe what he was listening to. He had no idea his dad had been thinking that way all those time. “Dad, you’re not useless! You might have been slower now but you still have a lot of fight left in you. And how can you even think about living in St. Mungo’s? You have six children to take care of you Dad, and then there’s Harry and Hermione…and Fleur! And your grandson Rene! We never once thought of you as a burden so you should stop thinking that way!”

Ron watched as his dad nodded and then smiled at him serenely. He felt the firm squeeze of his dad’s hand on his and then returned the smile. “We’re not much different son, I think it’s time you take your own advice and start living again. There is still a lot of fight left in you, stop pushing them all away Ron, they’re not going anywhere.”

-

Hermione had the hugest smile on her face as she ran through the busy hall of St. Mungo’s, up the stairs to the fourth floor and then ran all the way to the end of the passageway. She paused for a second in front of the door, only so she would not lose her balance, and then pushed the door opened and ran in, only to find Ron’s bed empty.

She frowned.

The bed was made; there was nothing on the bedside table to indicate that anyone had been there. She wondered if they had forgotten to tell her that someone had brought Ron home earlier that day. And then she wondered if they would actually release Ron just a day after he had woken up. Surely he would still be too weak to move back in to the Burrow?

Her heart skipped a beat.

Maybe something happened. Maybe he had fallen sick again?

Her breathing became labored, she knew if she didn’t get her emotions under control, she would most likely hyperventilate in a few seconds. She forced herself to sit on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.


A hand on her knee brought her back to reality. Ron was standing in front of her, with a soft smile on his face. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d even come today.”

She cried, and brought the hand that was resting on her knee, to her lips, only because she knew a hug would be disastrous for him, and then she kissed it. “You know I’d be here. I’ll always be here.”

“I know.” Ron nodded as she let go of his hand. He sat on the chair facing her and for a moment, they said nothing. Ron offered her the box of tissue, which seemed to come from nowhere as far as Hermione was concerned.

“You should get back to bed Ron.”

“Nurse Cahill said I should walk around a bit, circulate the muscles and stuff.”

“Was that what you were doing earlier?”

Ron nodded. “I can go as far as the bathroom on my own for now, which is a relief.”

Hermione started crying again which alarmed Ron. “It’s a good thing Hermione, don’t cry about it.”

Hermione didn’t think so. There was a time when even Harry had to keep up with his long pace, to hear that Ron was happy with just walking a small distance seemed wrong to her. Hermione also knew it was wise to keep this to herself. She smiled instead. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Ron smirked playfully at her. There was another stretch of silence as Hermione kept on dabbing at tears that didn’t seem to want to stop while Ron watched her intently.

After what felt like forever and Ron had summed up enough courage, he decided to break the silence. “Hermione, can I ask you something?”

She nodded, still not trusting her voice to speak.

“Do you…still love me?”

Hermione frowned. How dare he even asked her that, she thought. As if two years of wait wasn’t clear enough!

“Ron, I-”

“Wait, don’t answer me just yet.” Ron stopped her. Hermione couldn’t help but notice he was looking rather fidgety all of a sudden. “I need for you to really think about it before you tell me because it’s a huge deal, telling someone that you love them.”

“I can’t believe you even had to ask Ron!” Hermione bellowed. “I waited two years didn’t I? Didn’t that say enough?”

“But don’t you want to know everything about me before you make up your mind?”

“I don’t need to know everything about you for me to love you. I know enough about you to know that I-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Ugh! You’re impossible!” Hermione’s frustration made Ron laugh, and while it was music to her ears, Hermione also thought that maybe Ron had totally lost it. “It’s not supposed to be funny Ronald!”

Ron stopped laughing but the hint of smile never left his face. “It is when it’s hardly been five minutes and we’re already bickering at each other.”

She smiled, sighed and then nodded her head in resignation. “Fine Ron, tell me everything that I need to know about you so I can finally tell you that I-”

“Don’t you dare say it!”

“Okay fine, go ahead then, tell me!”

“I love you, that has never changed.” Ron declared. Hermione seemed to be in a trance, obviously shocked at this unexpected declaration, so Ron continued. “When I jumped and took that curse for you, it’s because I love you, and because I made a promise that I’ll always have your back. I know that if the situation had been reversed, you’d take the curse for me too. You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened cause I’ve never once regretted it.”

“Did Harry tell you this?”

“He didn’t. I figured it out.” Ron reached out to squeeze her knee again when Hermione started wiping at her fresh tears.

“When I pushed you away, it’s because I love you. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong, I know that now. You’re the only person I know who could keep me engaged in conversations, even if it is about elf rights.” Hermione scoffed at this but Ron waved it off and continued.

“I love it when we argue cause while you’re shouting at me, I have your fullest attention. It’s like, I’m the only one you see, and that’s a big deal coming from a huge family like mine. I missed having that connection with you.”

Hermione rested her hand on top of his, which was still on her knee, subconsciously rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Are you still going to push me away Ron?”

Ron shook his head. “I’m done pushing. It’s up to you now. But there’s more I need to tell you before you make your decision.”

Hermione sighed. “Fine.”

Ron knew, even before he reached her, that he was too late. The death eater had disapparated and she was lying there, on battered ground, unmoving. His legs felt as if he was dragging irons balls along with him but his heart felt heavier still. He fell to his knees by her side the moment he reached there, ignoring the throbbing pain on his side, and was surprised that her eyes were opened, and her lips were moving.

“Don’t move, you’re hurt.” He coaxed her as he looked around to see if a healer happened to be nearby; there was no such luck. Unsure what he should be doing next, he turned his gaze back on her. “We have to get you to St. Mungo’s.”

“I...I don’t think I’ll make it Ron.” She gasped. Ron frowned and his gaze trailed the contours of her body. She wasn’t bleeding as far as he could tell.

“Shut up, you’re going to be okay!”

“He said I’ll be…out of breath…in a minute.”

“Who’s he?”

“The death eater…before…”

Ron shook his head and gave her a look to tell her to stop talking. “I’m taking you to St. Mungo’s myself then. Side along apparition…I might splinch you…but this calls for desperate measures.”

She was shaking her head and breathing seemed to be a chore now. She reached out and grabbed his hand to get his attention. “No time…just…don’t leave me…don’t want to…die alone…”

Her face was pale, Ron just noticed this now, yet her long hair still glistened and she still looked beautiful as ever. “I’m not going anywhere okay?”

She smiled and closed her eyes, which unnerved Ron a lot. “Hey,” Ron brushed the hair away from her face and rested the palm of his hand on her forehead; she felt cold to the touch. “Lavender, open your eyes for me please.”

Her eyes fluttered, struggling to open, but she managed the little feat and reached out to touch his face. “You…you were never mine…were you Ron?”

“Shhh don’t talk, please.”

“Don’t feel bad…about it…” Lavender wheezed. “Thank you…I had…a blast…”

Ron shook his head, unsure of what to say. He felt the words caught in his throat as he struggled with his emotions. Sure he had dated Lavender to spite Hermione, but she had always treated him well when they were going out, in a Lavender sort of way anyway.

“I…me too…you were my…first…girlfriend…” A single tear escaped his eyes and seeped through the tiny gap between his face and her hand, that was still stroking his cheek.

She nodded and gasped and struggled for her voice. “You…my first…and last.”

And Lavender was gone.

“I’m sorry Lavender…I’m so sorry I used you!” Ron cried as he pulled her body and cradled her in his arms. “Will you ever forgive me?”

Her eyes were closed, she looked fast asleep as far as Ron was concerned. There was a sense of peace on her face, her hair still glowing behind her. Ron cried as he held her tight, wishing he had done something to help her. “Sleep…yeah…you should sleep now…get yourself far away from this bloody war eh? Maybe to Uranus?”

Ron managed a short laugh before he started crying again. Nothing else mattered right then, Ron seemed to forget that they were still at war, that at any moment, Voldemort’s servant might find him there and kill him while he had his back turned. He cried for Lavender, for her future and for her loved ones. He wondered where they were right then when Lavender was struggling and died in his arms.

“CRUCIO!”

A sequence of things happened right after that.

One, Ron knew that voice; had despised it ever since third year. It was Peter Pettigrew. Two, someone was screaming in pain and even in a distance, Ron knew he could never displaced that voice; he knew his dad was in trouble. Three, he knew he had to do something before it was too late.

Lying Lavender’s body back to the ground gently, Ron whispered an apology for having to leave her there on her own and then made a run to his dad, whom he saw, was now twitching and struggling under the curse.

The iron balls were back on his legs and Ron’s heart was screaming to run, to not make the same mistake twice. But he knew things would only take a turn for the worst when he heard his mother’s cries next, screaming for her husband.

“Arthur no! Stop it you prat!”

As Molly threw a hex at Pettigrew and immediately broke the curse, Ron’s head was screaming for his mother to get the hell away from there.

Pettigrew turned out to be a lot stronger than he looked, the hex only managed to slow him down for a little. He was up before Ron had reached any closer to his parents.

“You’ll pay for that you blood traitor witch!” Pettigrew yelled as he advanced on Molly.

“The only traitor here is YOU Peter! Or have you forgotten what you did to James and Lily? And Sirius? Oh I wish Remus was here to blast your sorry tail back where you belong!”

Never let it be said that Molly would back down in the face of an enemy.

“If you miss them so much, then I shall bring you to them!” Pettigrew yelled.

Ron’s heart stopped, he knew it did. He wasn’t sure if he had stopped running altogether, or if time seemed to stop where he was because he couldn’t seem to get there any faster and Ron was known for his long legs and fast pace! He watched, as if the scene was played out in that muggle box Harry once told him was ‘TV’ and knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

“AVADA-”

“No!”

“KEDAVRA!”

Percy dropped with a loud thud in front of his mother’s feet. This time, Ron knew he stopped running, more from shock than worn out. He didn’t think even his mother knew where Percy had came from; no one saw that coming. The same Percy who had never resolved his differences with the family, who had battled on their side of the war yet adamant to stay on his own rather than swallowing his pride and seeking forgiveness from his parents – his same old git of a brother, had took the death curse for their mother.

“YOU FUCKING RAT!” The words were out of his mouth before he even realised he had yelled it. His legs had also decided to abandon the iron balls, it felt light now as a new surge of energy came over him; oh how he wanted to kill this bastard so bad.

Peter Pettigrew turned to look at him and he smiled excitedly when he realised it was Ron.

“Ah, first Percy, now you! Brilliant!”

“Oh no you don’t. You’re NOT going to kill another son of mine!” Molly yelled as she advanced towards Pettigrew, wand pointed dangerously at him.

“Mom no!” Ron cried as he pushed to close the distance between them.

“Of course Molly, perhaps I should spare him and kill you instead. Even better!”

“You can try.” Molly spat before swishing her wand, sending Pettigrew flying again but he managed to send Molly flying on the opposite direction as well.

Ron ran to his mother, who was now lying on the ground, unprotected. “Mom! Mom, are you alright?”

“I’m alright Ronnie.” Ron didn’t wait for her as he stood up and went straight for his old pet.

Peter Pettigrew was already on his feet by the time Ron reached for him. He was smiling, his eyes wide and dark, like the crazy man he had turned into. “You son of a bitch, you’ll pay for this!”

Ron wasn’t sure what happened next; he knew he had raised his wand, ready to fire the first hex that came to mind, but the next thing he knew, he was choking and fighting for his breath, he felt his eyes beginning to water and he was struggling to get away from whatever thing that was on its way to breaking his neck.

“YOU TAKE YOUR BLOODY HAND OFF MY SON!” Ron’s vision began to blur and he wondered if this was how Lavender had suffered earlier, to have the air taken from you as you choke on nothingness.

“I dare you to make your move Molly! Just a little more pressure and I’ll have his neck crushed in my hand!” This immediately froze Molly and Pettigrew turned to look back at Ron.

“How about it Ronald? Should I kill you or your mother?”

Ron struggled, gripping against the thing that now Ron knew was Pettigrew’s silver hand. “ Kill me!” He gasped.

“Okay then.” Pettigrew grinned and then directed his wand away from Ron and aimed at his mother. “AVADA KADAVRA!”

The grip on his neck loosen a little as Pettigrew laughed at the dead body of his mother. Ron took this opportunity to raise his own wand and pointed it at the silver arm before muttering, as clearly as he could, the severing spell.

To Ron’s surprise, it worked.

“You…my arm!” Pettigrew cried with a look of bewilderment on his face. He kept darting back and forth from his severed arm to looking at him, as if he couldn’t believe Ron was capable of such things.

“And I’m not done!” Ron yelled, his anger nowhere near subsiding even after what he did. Now Ron really had no care if he was going to regret his actions later, every being in his body wanted to see Peter Pettigrew dead, and Ron knew it was left for him to do the deed.

“That was just a demo you fuck!”

Ron muttered ‘sectumsempra’ under his breath and watched as the slash ripped open Pettigrew’s neck, immediately choking him in his own blood. He didn’t move until he was sure Pettigrew lay dead on the ground. Also, Ron didn’t think he could turn to face the dead bodies of his family.

-

“Ron, I’m so sorry.” Hermione had gotten down from the bed and embraced Ron in a hug she knew he desperately needed. He didn’t push her away but cried in her arms instead. Words seemed useless then, so she kept rubbing his back and cried along with him.

Somewhere along the way, Ron had pulled back and admitted that he wasn’t feeling so well and Hermione had moved him to his bed. He lay on his side while Hermione sat on the chair and held his hand.

“Sleep Ron, we can talk again tomorrow if you’re not done.”

Ron shook his head, stubborn as ever. “No, I have to tell you everything today or I might lost the nerve to do it again.”

“But what else could you possibly tell me Ron? I know everything about your need to push me away for my own good; in fact I knew it was coming even before the war. That’s why I lo-, like you; you’re always putting everybody you love first. If I didn’t know this, I wouldn’t have waited for you for two years!” Hermione cried as she tightened the hold on his hand when she felt him pulling away.

“Hermione, if you’re looking to love the Ron you knew before the war, I’m sorry to say that he isn’t here anymore. I wish he is, but he’s not. I need for you to be sure that you’re not just here because you know and love that other Ron.”

Hermione remained quiet; her gaze had fallen to their intertwined hands. “I will be a burden to you if you chose to be with me, living with this…there are more lows than high. And…it wouldn’t be fair if you don’t know this so I’m going to let you know now, that the last man who lived with this curse, he died three years after having it.”

This however, had Hermione’s head snapped back up, her wide eyes now looking at Ron in disbelief. “It means Hermione,” Ron choked, “that I might have a year left to live, or a couple more, who knows? If you chose this…life…for us to be together, you have to know that we’re living on borrowed times, unless I got fully cured.”

“Oh Ron!” Hermione cried, as she moved closer to kiss him on his forehead, her tears falling in his hair. “How long have you known this?”

“Two years now.”

“What?” Hermione cried as she looked at him in the eyes, her own eyes now red and puffy. “And you kept it to yourself? Nobody knows?”

Ron shook his head. “What’s the point eh? I don’t want people to start ticking off days on their calendar Hermione.”

“You should have told me.”

“I’m telling you now.” Ron said simply. “So in a nutshell, what I’m saying is, I love you…and if you chose to be with me, I can’t…” At this point, Ron paused to catch his breath and willed himself not to cry. “I can’t guarantee you…that you can have everything you want, but I want you to know, that you can have what’s left of me.”

Hermione pulled her hand away; breaking the physical contact they had shared. She was crying again, her face hidden behind her hands.

“I’m not going to hate you if you say no, Hermione.” Ron said as he pulled his hand close to himself. It was beginning to chill all of a sudden and he couldn’t help realizing that his heartbeat was racing like crazy.

Hermione was shaking her head as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m sorry Ron…”

She was still talking, but the only thing Ron heard was the beating of his heart, so close to his ears that it was dizzying…