Chapter One: Fragments
* * *
Hold my thoughts I'm at an impasse
Past the place I stopped before
The sweeper's sweeping fragments
Of my head out the door
And the ice it burns upon my forehead
The calmness starts to scream
Must I always hold the upright
When my soul longs to dream
Is it too much to find an answer
Is it too much to hold you close
Is it too much to find a reason
Is it too much to free my soul
From self control
* * *
Ronald Lavelle Weasley was a tall man who stood approximately as six foot, three-and-a-quarter inches tall. He was burly, but not in that disgusting bulky way that made one think that his head was too small for the rest of his body. His red hair, which used to be slightly shaggy and all over the place was now cut much shorter than it had been when he'd been in school, and spiked messily. A long scar that ran from in hairline, down across his right eyelid (in a way that it didn't affect his vision) all the way down over his squareish jaw and across his jugular and over his left collarbone, where it ended. If the line hadn't been so smooth one would think a dragon hand tried to bite the majority of his head off but hadn't succeeded. This scar was just one of many that laced his back, chest arms and legs that no one in his family, and none of his friends knew about.
Ron was the youngest of six boys, older than his only sister, who was a year younger. Ron wasn't particularly special in school, as his brothers had done everything noteworthy before he'd gone to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sure, he'd been a Prefect, but that didn't mean much when three of his brothers were before that. He was a great strategist, and because of this, he was the best wizard's chess player anyone had seen in a very long time. The only other thing that set Ron apart from his brothers was the fact that his best friend was the famed Harry Potter. In school he, Harry and their friend Hermione Granger had been what was called the Golden Trio, facing danger after danger.
But now? Now Ron lived in Seattle all the way on the west coast of America in the muggle world. He wore baggy jeans that still fit him and button up shirts, a hemp cord around his neck with a dark blue bead in the middle. He hadn't been home to England since the year after he'd graduated from Hogwarts. He kept in contact with his mother, as well as Harry and Hermione, but none of them knew why he'd left. He tended to keep that to himself.
Over the years he'd learned curses, hexes and all kinds of healing spells. He was quite the adept medi-wizard at the local magical hospital, as was going to a muggle medical school as well. He'd learned everything Harry had had too during their years at Hogwarts, and after he'd delved into more ancient forms of magic as well, and had learned a lot. He'd become an Animagus, and every now and then spent an afternoon out in the countryside as a Thestral. After he'd left England, he'd started taking martial arts classes as well as convincing a wizarding friend to teach him how to wield a sword and throw knives. He now had a personalized set of throwing daggers in a set of twenty that sheathed on the chest of his battle robes, ten on each side, held on only by two little bands of material. He also had a long sword that had a wicked dragons head in blackened gold holding the blade, which had runes etched into the metal and scalloped edges near the hilt.
Ron was determined to become the best Ron he could, and after everything that happened, he couldn't bring himself to go back. The Second War against Voldemort was still raging in Britain, and Ron had once thought that he'd be by Harry's side through the entire thing, as well as the final battle, but it hadn't happened. The summer after they'd graduated Ron had been kidnapped by Death Eaters and tortured the muggle way for information on Harry and the Order of the Phoenix, which they had all recently become members of. He'd refused to give any information, and when his brother, Percival Alexander Weasley and his partners Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint had stormed Riddle House and gotten him out, he had been feverish and nearly dead from loss of blood.
Ron had forced Percy, Oliver and Marcus to not say a word about his injuries to anyone, especially their parents and Ron's friends before he'd left the country. Percy was Ron's only link to the Order and the true happening of what was going on, as he regularly conversed with his elder brother through Floo, owl post, and the muggle telephone. Oliver kept him updated on Quidditch and Marcus, who had ended up working for Gringotts, handled all his financial affairs.
In Ron's time as a doctor, and all of magical mercenary work (he only did the legal stuff, no stealing or assassinations) he did had made him a rather wealthy man, and every month a small amount was placed in his parents' vault. Not enough to be noticed, but they always had money when they needed it. Ron was the guy people went to when you needed artefacts transported safely or dark creatures disposed of.
Currently he had a small, one room flat in Muggle Seattle and had a fat grey kneazle running around it. The place was a mess, books and papers littered the living room along with pizza boxes and other take-out containers. He manuvered his way around a pile of clean laundry as he threw his keys on the counter where the three barstools sat. He pressed play on his answering machine, which had been flashing a red two angrily into the air. He listened as one of his muggle friends (a guy by the name of Dan, who was in a band) asked him to go to his band's gig on friday as Ron moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a can of Mountain Dew and opening it. The can fell to the floor as the next message came on.
"Ron, it's Percy. Listen, I know you don't get off until later tonight, but we need you here. Bill's been in an accident in Egypt, he was trapped under a section of a pyramid when it was collapsed - god, Ron, his back is broken, they don't know if he'll ever walk again. He's been shipped to St. Mungos, and I was hoping you could take a look at him. Also, there's been some major Death Eater activity here in the last month, Harry had another dream and there's supposed to be an attack in Muggle London somewhere, but we don't know exactly where. We need you Ron, come home."
Ron stared at the machine before he snapped out of the shocked state he'd been thrown into. He quickly pulled out his wand and cleaned up anything that would mildew or rot before he moved into the bedroom and pulled out an old beat up trunk with the letter R.L.W. on the side in tarnished gold. He threw robes and clothes into the trunk, using his wand to fold everything, before he pulled out his dark blue battle robes. A black body suit with lightweight leg and knee guards, along with shoulders, and a chest plate. The tunic that made up the top of his battle robes dipped below his belt and swooped down in back to cover the top of his knee guards before coming back up in front. The front was split down the center for movement and the ensemble included a black swordbelt and sheath and an ankle length cape. He pulled out the wood cases that contained his knives and sword and put them in the trunk as well before his personal affects followed.
All sorts of books and random objects around the living room and bedroom made their way into the trunk as well. He pulled out a black satchel and packed away his black laptop, which he'd tweaked to run in magical places and places without electricity. The papers he thought he'd need went into the satchel along notebooks and pens.
Ron contacted his boss at the hospital an got an immediate transfer to St. Mungos so that he could become Bill's doctor, then, without even bothering to call, Ron, his bags, Pigwidgeon and Shadow (the cat) were flooing to the International Floo Station in New York.
* * *
Percy Weasley entered Bill's hospital room later that night to find his parents and Bill's doctor in the room arguing. Percy got the feeling that he didn't want to stay, but by the look that Bill was wearing he decided to have pity on his brother and not make the eldest Weasley child suffer alone. Percy skirted the room and came up on Bill's right, a look of consternation on his face.
"What's going on?"
"Doctor Streitfield's been taken off my case or whatever." Bill replied in an equally quiet tone. "Apparently someone's been transferred to St. Mungo's from America and specializes in spinal and head injuries."
Percy's breath caught, daring to hope that the specialist was Ron. He cleared his throat loudly and the doctor and his parents turned to him. "Does this mysterious new doctor have a name?"
"Oh! Yes, yes he does." The woman replied, going slightly red. She rifled through the parchments in her clipboard, muttering to herself. "apparently he's related, some young man named Ronald Weasley."
Molly Weasley fainted as a slow grin crossed Percy's face. "Thank you, Doctor Strietfield, for everything you've done, but I'm sure Ron will be better for Bill, overall."
"Oh, really?" Adreena Strietfield asked, looking interested. "And why is that?"
"He's familiar with and had a lot of experience in the area..." Percy said, trailing off as he led her to the door. "When he arrives I'm sure you'll tell him what he needs to know?"
"Of course." She said, confused. "What's the relation?"
"He's our youngest brother." Percy said, and shut the door to the room.
* * *
Ron entered St. Mungos, weighed down by the bag over his shoulder, as his truck had been shrunken down to fit in his pocket. Pig had been sent on the journey to Harry and then Hermione to get the minute owl out of the way and Shadow was following behind Ron, his bottle brush tail held in the air as he visibly waddled behind his owner. A woman in the healer's uniform went past, muttering about Weasleys and Ron grinned, calling out.
"Excuse me?"
She stopped, turned and her eyes widened. She walked over with an amused look on her face. "You must be Doctor Ronald Weasley."
"I am."
"Adreena Striefield." She said, shaking his offered hand. "I am formerly your brother's doctor, even though it's not my speciality, as it has to heal the muggle way. Anyway, here."
She shoved a brown file folder into his arms along with a clipboard and muggle pen. "I've just been kicked out. Take a look at those before you go in there. Or look at them later, your mother's just fainted for some reason."
She stalked off, muttering again as Ron watched her go, amused. He looked at the chart on the clipboard reading 'Weasley, rm 204' before turning and heading down the hall. He quickly flipped through the file as he went as he conjured up a white lab coat with his hospital id. on it. He read the basics of Bill's diagnosis and realized that even if Bill managed to walk again, he'd never be a curse breaker. He'd probably end up with a boring desk job in the Ministry of Magic, using a cane to walk for the rest of his life.
Ron sighed as he stopped in front of the closed door that hid him from two of his brothers and his parents. It was time to face the music. He'd have to tell them about what had happened to him in the three months he'd been held prisoner in Riddle House. Hopefully Molly Weasley wouldn't coddle him too much, as the holidays were approaching and he knew he'd end up at the Burrow for a time.
Ron pushed open the door and strode in purposefully, throwing a wink at Percy as he pretended to flip through Bill's file. Shadow jumped up onto the bed and into Bill's lap, where he covered him like a fussy blanket and started purring madly. "Let's see here... mmmhmmm... right then..."
He looked up, both Bill and Percy looked amused, and Mrs. Weasley had fainted again and Mr. Weasley was standing over her, fanning her with a pamphlet of some sort. Arthur Weasley too looked amused as his wife came around. Ron continued.
"Well, from the looks of it it's all going to be physical therapy and check-ups from here on in. It'd prolly be best to get you back to the Burrow where Mum can dote over you to save me the hassle." Ron joked, receiving a mock glare from Bill in reply. "Ah yes, there's a Cannon's versus Puddlemere next week, I may just have to subject you and Percy to the horror that is Quidditch."
"No, god no!" Percy exclaimed as he moved around the bed and embraced the youngest male Weasley. "Not Quidditch and Oliver Wood at the same time!"
Ron laughed in his best evil cackle before he settled down and set his satchel on the ground and put the clipboard and file on the bed by Bill's feet. He scratched Shadow behind the ears and the purring grew louder as Ron embraced his brother. "This is Shadow."
"He seems rather a lot like an enormous, fuzzy throw pillow if you ask me." Bill replied.
"Mmm." Ron nodded in agreement as he hugged his father. "He makes a good bed warmer too."
Then he was abruptly hugged by Mrs. Weasley, who nearly cracked a rib and then she began to scold him for not visiting at all in the last six years.