The Darkest Hour is Just Before Dawn
He could hear scratching outside, scratching against the walls of the clinic, and he held his breath and lay as still as he could to listen.
There it was again, scratching, and nobody inside the clinic was making a sound. Ron opened his eyes and peered through the darkness; black silhouettes against dark blue light were all he could make out. He looked over his shoulder through the barrier to see if Hermione, asleep beside him, was awake too.
He shivered, the clear plastic barrier was shredded, and an icy cold breeze wafted the strips of torn plastic into the quarantine area like a ragged ghost passing through. There was nobody on Hermione's side of the clinic. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, nor was Neville or the patients and staff, and Ron instinctively reached out to feel for his dog at his side.
His hand set down in a thick pool of cold blood that oozed through his fingers and his eyes suddenly became accustomed to the darkness and he could see that everyone in the Quarantine zone was lying on the floor covered in blood.
They'd been slaughtered.
He gasped and searched the black room, the scent of the blood, like rust, hitting him full on now and found it impossible to get up from the floor. The drying blood was sticking his clothing to the smooth cool linoleum and the still wet blood caused his hand and feet to skid and slip. He was flailing around like an upturned crab and his breath picked up speed in his panic.
As he felt himself slammed down onto his back, arms having been wrenched out from under him, he was blinded by a bright blue-ish light that felt to him like a small blade piercing him between the eyes. He winced and tried to roll over onto his front to protect his stinging eyes from the brilliant light that had exploded through the darkness. He couldn't move and he felt as if his arms were under a great deal of pressure.
Then a figure stepped out of the light, a figure he recognised well, and the black haired woman clad in a bodice of armour smiled down at him while his arms ached with even more pressure.
"Ron," the woman spoke as if she was a great distance away and her voice was echoing off walls and canyons to reach his ears, "I helped you save him last time."
Ron yelped as he saw his scars returning to his smooth freckled arms. The glowing white cables winding tightly around wrists, elbows, shoulders and everywhere in between. He thrashed and tried to get up but the spirit of Rowena Ravenclaw was possessing him again.
"Why?" Ron panted before his eyes bulged in shock at hearing his own voice again.
He hadn't been able to speak since he had been possessed the last time, he and Ravenclaw had found a way to turn all the remaining Death Eaters into squibs and soon after he'd lost his scars and his only tie to the powerful witch.
"I must force my way back into you because you can not save Harry Potter on your own Ronald." Ravenclaw said with a regretful shake of the head as she stood over him and looked down sadly, "You were never able to save him without me, Ronald. Without me, Harry Potter will be dead."
Something clawed and tore at him. Ron kicked out his legs as the ball of light that was Ravenclaw swallowed him up and his arms felt as if they were going to break under the pressure. He seemed to be flying and then he hit the floor in a black room and an almighty boom released him from the possession and he sat up, panting.
Hermione woke from her usual 'separation anxiety' nightmare.
Whenever she and Ron were apart and she was under some considerable stress she'd dream that Ron was captured. He would be at the mercy of people, Death Eaters she guessed, who wanted information about something. They would hold or tie Ron's arms behind his back and begin demanding Ron 'talk'. The longer it went on the worse the threats got which then became beatings and, if she hadn't managed to wake herself up before then, torture.
She would always wake up in tears at her poor Ron being tormented because he wasn't able to talk. This time she woke just as the ringleader of the mob holding Ron had thrown the first unmerciful punch to Ron's face. She turned to seek comfort in his warmth, his arms, just as she always would but her face smooshed against the clear partition and she sputtered and sat up with a huff.
As she made out some shapes of candles and shadows moving in the darkness she looked down to Ron where he lay on the other side of the thin partition and flung herself at it in an instant.
"No! Oh Ron, no, please don't do this...not tonight!"
The Broad chested Auror appeared over her shoulder in an instant.
"What's wrong; is he having a fit?"
"He's having a nightmare!" Hermione pressed her hands flat against the partition anxiously, "He needs someone to hold him until it passes."
The broad chested Auror licked his lips and searched the Quarantine area for one of the Aurors who was still awake. He waved his arms and got the attention of Auror Jacobs. The man sprang to his feet and ran over to the commotion he'd now noticed in front of Hermione and tried to shake Ron awake.
Ron gave a convulsive shudder and began scrabbling at the floor beneath him with his hands. Jacobs gave up on trying to wake Ron and dropped him back down onto the floor heavily.
"Hold him!" The broad chested Auror was mouthing while miming a bear hug at Jacobs through the partition at his colleague.
Jacobs nodded and grabbed at Ron's flailing arms and forced them down before calling over his shoulder to wake some of the others.
"No, not hold him down," the Auror behind Hermione exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "Jacobs, look at me!"
Auror Jacobs was too busy pinning Ron down by the wrists while a couple of others held his shoulders and elbows to prevent his panic induced thrashing. Hermione's eyes welled up and she pounded on the barrier between her and Ron.
"Stop it," she sobbed, "he's just scared, you just have to hold him to you and let him know he's safe and he's dreaming!"
The Aurors were holding Ron's arms so firmly Hermione winced at the bruises she knew would be forming and soon Neville was at her side and rocking her in the same way she wished she could be doing for Ron at that moment.
"Leave him alone," Hermione whimpered.
Soon Sam, the Magic Sapper, was pounding on the barrier too and trying to communicate with the people watching what was happening that Ron needed the Auror's to be pulled off him but everybody was too worried and nervous to move.
Somebody ran and handed Auror Kelly a torch which she lit and shone down into Ron's face to see if he had become infected somehow. Ron's face scrunched up and he struggled once more to sit up or roll over. The hands forced him down again and Hermione's heart broke when she saw Ron's lips moving. There was nothing worse than when Ron started to try to call for help in his nightmares, it only served to upset him more.
Marmalade was pulling at Auror Jacobs' robes and scratching and clawing at the group of people assaulting his master. Eventually somebody noticed the broad chested Auror on the clean side of the partition ordering them to release Ron and back away. As the crowd holding Ron down gradually moved away the dog broke through and began pawing at Ron's chest and nudging him with his nose. Marmalade was trying to make Ron get up and Auror Jacobs appeared to make a decision.
He grabbed Ron and carried him across the room to an open doorway, Marmalade following on and nuzzling at his master's dangling arm all the way, and Hermione cried out in despair as she saw that the Auror was locking Ron and his dog in a separate room on their own.
"No!" She flung herself against the barrier, "He needs me. Please let me go to him, he needs me please."
There were flashes.
He saw flashes of blood and lightning, flashes of his hand bleeding with the word 'lies', flashes of a smiling Fudge declaring everyone was safe while one by one he and his friends dropped in battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and the last images to flash through his mind were ones that frequently woke him from his sleep.
There was a flash of a blade and then spurting blood, Ron was being dragged away from Harry by a gang of Death Eaters intent on hurting him, and then he was bursting with light and energy and collapsing onto the ground. Harry sat bolt upright and gritted his teeth to hold in his exclamation of fear and anger. He was used to stifling his nightmares, not wanting to wake Ginny or alert Ron to the fact he was still tormented by all the troubles the brain scars and brought with them.
He blinked and looked around the shelter. It was still raining outside and it appeared that he hadn't been discovered. He bit his lip and wondered if his dream was just more of the usual or whether it meant something deeper.
Was he being reminded of the times Umbridge denied the facts he struggled to drum into her and everybody else, and Fudge's denial that ultimately cost Sirius his life and everybody who had gone to the Department of Mysteries their health and wellbeing? Were the people trapped in the clinic going to be left to die? Was the border going to remain sealed until the virus or whatever it was ran its course?
How long would it be before Ron lost his patience and set off into the open? Harry cursed Ron under his breath. Why did that lanky git have to be so much like...well, him!
Harry got to his feet and began to pace.
No, he wouldn't, Ron wouldn't leave the patients and Hermione to go off and run for the border and get help. He wouldn't think of going back into danger afterwards to search for Harry. He wouldn't be that stupid would he? Not as stupid as Harry would have been.
Only there was a reason Harry and Ron were such close and utterly dedicated friends, they were both as loyal and dense as the other. Harry saw the sky was lightening, the sun would be coming up soon, and he resolved that this would be the best time to make a run for the border to try and get through or alert the outside world at the very least.
He'd still have the cover of the darkness and the peacefulness of the pre-dawn hour, it was his best bet for survival and the kicking of Ron's arse if he had broken out of the clinic, and if he just stayed hidden it would serve no purpose other than put him on 'missing presumed zombie' lists.
Reaching for his improvised spear Harry kicked down his camouflaged barricade and set off at a run.