As he sat in the window seat on the Metro bus Ron was doing his best to be nondescript and look casual. He pressed his back to the window, propping one foot underneath himself so he could see up and down the aisle. He fiddled with the iLink card in his hand and kept the woman with the long black hair in his periphery. He shot a quick glance at Harry and received a nod. Harry was seated a few rows ahead where he could also see the woman with the black hair and the other suspect. After watching both people get on the same bus several days in a row, the two Aurors had decided to follow their suspects onto the bus to see if they'd lead them to the warehouse where the stolen goods were being made into Polyjuice potion.

The second suspect pulled the cord, requesting the driver to stop. Harry shot a look at Ron, who knit his brows together. As the bus slowed, Harry had a quick decision to make. He slightly nodded his head at Ron towards the front door of the bus. Ron thoughtfully chewed his lower lip and nodded again. As the bus slowed to a stop, Harry turned and stood from his seat, stepping past the passenger sitting next to him and followed the second suspect off the bus. The bus was pulling away from the curb when the suspect turned and he saw the wand in her hand. Harry pulled his own from its hiding place but before he could do another thing, he had to jump out of the way of the curse she hurled at him. He stood up, ready to fight back when he heard the shouting behind him. The curse had missed him and hit the bus driver in the back. He was now slumped forward over the steering wheel. Harry turned back and saw the witch ready to curse him again. He dove behind a dumpster and watched in horror as the full power of the curse hit the bus broadside and it tipped over. All at once, it was pandemonium. Passengers were screaming and struggling to climb out of the overturned vehicle. Harry's only thought was Ron, his best friend and partner was on that bus, now being crushed by the weight of humanity crawling to free itself out of the windows. He turned again and saw the suspect had Disapparated, leaving no trace behind.

Several days after the attack, Ron awoke. His vision was blurry as he forced his eyes open. Hermione's face came clear to him a few moments after. Worry was written clearly all over her tear-stained face. She gripped his left hand and was holding it to her cheek. He watched the tears rolling down her cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed him all over his face. He winced slightly. It was only then that he noticed that although her mouth was clearly moving, Ron couldn't hear anything she was saying. He watched her mouthing something repeatedly. He shook his head to show that he didn't understand. He went to push himself up in bed but he discovered his right arm was heavily bandaged in what felt like a hard shell. Hermione's eyes were wide with fear as she continued mouthing the same thing to him. Ron exhaled heavily and tried concentrating – willing his injured ears to heal Hermione leapt up with force- he saw, but did not hear, the stool she'd been sitting on clatter to the floor.

She turned for the door and was gone as he tried to call her back.

Ron looked around the pale white room, taking in his surroundings for the first time. It didn't look like the same sort of room his father had been in after Voldemort's snake attacked him in the Department of Mysteries. There were strange machines around him that he did not recognize. Suddenly, Ron became aware of the tubes up his nose helping him to breathe and the uncomfortable object clipped to the pointer finger of his left hand. A look out the window convinced him that wherever he was, he was not at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Hermione came charging back into the room with a Nurse in a crisp, white uniform. As the woman in white felt Ron's pulse, flicked a bright white light into his eyes and scribbled furiously on a flipchart that has been at Ron's feet, Hermione was pacing the same path of four steps, back and forth. He knew she was talking – her mouth never stopped moving and her hands were flying swiftly from her hair to her waist to an empty pantomime in front of her and back again. Ron tried to ascertain what in the world Hermione was saying but he remained stone deaf.

The nurse in white clapped her hands twice in front of Ron's face to draw his attention. She was holding up a sheet of paper which read:

Can you hear anything?

Ron took a moment to read and shook his head.

The nurse nodded and took the paper back to write something else:

Are you in pain?

Ron shrugged his shoulders. He was uncomfortable, but not in pain. The nurse and Hermione turned towards each other to speak and again, the nurse held up a note for him to read.

Your shoulder is dislocated, and your arm is broken. Broken ribs. Will run tests on your hearing. Otherwise, you're going to be fine. Sit tight.

Ron felt relieved to know he wasn't badly injured but the hearing loss was making him worry. He wracked his brain to remember what had happened to land him in a Muggle hospital. Hermione's back was to him; she was speaking to the nurse as she left the room, taking the paper she'd been writing on with her. Ron cleared his throat to get her attention. Hermione turned and was once again speaking words he couldn't hear and gesturing wildly. Frustrated, he shook his head and motioned to his ears with his left hand. She suddenly stopped and held her hands to her chest in a motion that he understood to be an apology. She quickly looked over her shoulder as she pulled her wand out of her boot and conjured a notepad and pen. She casually stowed her wand back in its hiding place and started writing a note to him.

I love you. I was so scared. You're at Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast.

Ron tried speaking but his throat burned. He motioned for her to hand him the notepad. He used his left hand to scrawl:

Love u 2. How long? Why can't I hear? Where's Harry? Mum + Dad?

He sighed, exhausted. She took the pad from him and replied beneath each of his questions in her own tidy handwriting:

How long?

Three days

Where's Harry?

He was here, was called away by K.S. – Ron immediately recognized the initials of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic.

Mum + Dad

They're here too, in the chapel

As Ron read her replies, he became agitated, she hadn't answered the most important question. He drew five lines under the question about his hearing and shoved the notepad back to her. Her response was a sad and simple

I don't know.

The nurse in white returned a short time later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at her heels. Hermione stepped aside to let Mrs. Weasley sit at Ron's side. His parents were speaking, but Ron still could not hear and was growing agitated. He watched helplessly as the nurse spoke to his parents and Hermione. He tried to gauge his condition by their facial expressions. His mother's was pale and grave but his father and Hermione both appeared to look relieved. When the nurse left, Mr. Weasley took to writing Ron a note that made him laugh.

Fascinating things – these Muggle Healers

Ron's ribs ached from the short laugh he was able to muster. If the Nurse had told them he was dying, he doubted that would be the first thing his father would say.

Mrs. Weasley snatched the notepad and pen from her husband's hands and she puzzled a moment at the pen. She then wrote:

Are you in pain son?

Ron shook his head but motioned pouring something into his mouth mouthing "water".

An instant later, Hermione handed him a chilled glass of water that soothed his throat tremendously. Ron coughed and sipped more water before trying to speak. He couldn't hear himself but all three of them exchanged glances letting him know they understood him.

"What happened?"

Hermione took the notepad from Mrs. Weasley.

You don't remember anything?

Ron shook his head. He pursed his lips and knit his brows together trying to think. He'd been in a taxi – no, a train – no it was a bus. In Belfast. He and Harry were trailing someone. A woman with long dark hair. That's as much as he remembered.

"The bus." Ron croaked. "Where's Harry?"

Hermione wrote

Do you remember the accident?

Ron shook his head. They were interrupted by the same nurse as before and one other in the same crisp, white uniform. They spoke to the three Weasleys and Hermione as if Ron could hear, which he found deeply frustrating.

Hermione wrote him a quick note as the two nurses began to wheel his sick bed out the door.

Tests for ears – should be quick. I'll ring Harry.

Ron nodded and gave them all a thumbs up. He lay back and stared up at the ceiling tiles while the two nurses quickly and expertly maneuvered his bed around the halls. The fluorescent lights began to spark a headache behind his eyes. The speed of the motion of his moving bed was giving him a light head. The more lightheaded he became, the more positive he was that the contents of his stomach were unlikely to stay there. A sudden burst of pain erupted on both sides of his head and he was howling. He felt liquid rush out of both ears. The nurses stopped moving at once to attend to him but that sudden jerk was all his stomach needed and he began convulsing in the dry heaves of an extraordinarily sick man who hadn't eaten solid food in days. He was violently trying to throw up and suddenly, everything went black.