Disclaimer - No physical descriptions are intended to resemble any real life people who may or may not go by the nickname B00.
Boo!
"Hello, Ron."
Ron looked up from his hospital bed and smiled at the woman in Healer's robes.
"Can I go now?" he asked her hopefully.
The Healer conjured up a chair and sat beside Ron's bed on the ward in St Mungo's. He had been dressed and ready to leave ever since he'd been transferred from Hogwarts late the previous night.
"You can go whenever you want to, Ron, but I'd like it if you stayed to talk to me for a moment," she smiled kindly.
She was a short woman with her brown hair loosely pinned up in a bun. There were four or five pencils stuck in her bun and she was kind, but tired looking. She looked to have been a very curvaceous woman who had just lost a lot of weight. She looked fairly trim but very cuddly, as if she was wearing her skin like a loose fitting, comfortable suit.
Ron sighed deeply and slumped onto his elbow.
"I already said he didn't do anything. It's my fault, I just...I had a flashback and freaked out."
"Ron, could you tell me what the man you saw just before you had your seizure looked like?" the Healer said in a calming tone.
"Err..." Ron looked to the ceiling and bit his lip. "I think he...no, he was...he um..."
"How tall was he Ron?"
"Big!" Ron said emphatically.
"Well, that's something isn't it?" the Healer said as she sat back in her chair, impressed. "I mean for someone as tall as you to say somebody is big must mean they were huge!"
Ron blinked.
"No, he wasn't, the man in the toilets wasn't bigger than me."
The Healer looked concerned yet understanding.
"So who was it then, Ron? Who was bigger than you?"
Ron paled and looked down at his hands.
"I didn't s-s-say..."
"Hum for a second, Ron," the Healer ordered.
"Wha-What?" Ron blinked in confusion.
"Hum for five seconds and then say what you wanted to say."
Ron shifted awkwardly and avoided eye contact before liking his lips, taking a deep breath and then humming for the count of five. The humming stopped and the room echoed into silence. Ron braced himself and tried to speak again.
"I don't remember what he looked like. I didn't see him."
The Healer nodded and smiled once again.
"Who did you see?"
"Somebody else," Ron said quietly.
"Somebody you know?" the Healer asked with a tilt of the head.
Ron didn't say anything.
"Ron, what was the last thing you remember before you had your seizure?"
Again, Ron stayed silent.
"Your friends are ready to take you home but I'd like to talk to you again in a day or two. Would that be okay, Ron?"
"Why?" Ron looked back at her at last. "I'm okay now. I don't even need potions or anything."
"No, you don't need potions but I do think you need to talk."
Ron's eyes widened and he got up off his bed and glared down at her.
"Did Hermione send for you?"
"I'm sorry?" the woman blinked in shock. "Who's Hermione? I was assigned your case from within the Ministry and approved by the Healer who admitted you."
"But Her-Hermione...she...I said I didn't want any more Healers."
"I'm not like the other Healers, Ron," the woman said, still sitting calmly in her chair and looking up at him. "I'm here to help you recover from your trauma so you won't have any seizures anymore."
"I only h-had one!" Ron yelled and turned to storm out.
"Who was he, Ron?" the Healer called after him.
"He's no one!" Ron growled as he headed for the door. "He's dead!"
Ron's palm was about to slam against the door and push it open when the Healer's chair scraped against the floor as she called out.
"How do you know that?"
Ron froze before the door and swallowed. He could feel the witch's eyes on him and couldn't turn around.
"Your brother Percy is very worried about you, Ron." the Healer said sadly. "Please come back and find me when you feel you need to talk. My name is Madam Boo."
"Boo, eh?" Ron said, still facing the door with his arm raised. "Y'don't sc-scare me."
He pushed open the door and stepped outside. The door swung behind him and he saw Harry, Hermione and his dad jumping to their feet and staring at him.
"Just the three of you, eh?" Ron said suspiciously.
Hermione smiled and held out her hand for him to take.
"I sent them all home."
Ron took her hand but stayed some distance apart from her.
"You didn't send her?" he asked her with a cautious sideways glance.
"Send who?" Hermione frowned.
The gap between them closed a little and Ron squeezed her hand tight.
"No one."
Fergus chewed the inside of his lip as he watched Seamus holding onto the picture frame and staring at the bare walls of the living room.
"Maybe not in here, eh?" Seamus muttered to himself. "Shall I try the hall again?"
"Yeh know where ya wanna put it, Shay," Fergus sighed wearily. "Just hang the thing above the fireplace and finish unpackin'."
Seamus lifted the picture, with its sticking charm already in place on the back, up to the wall and fixed it in pride of place above the fireplace.
"There," he said, happily but with a slight twang of discomfort. "Ye sure it won't keep remindin' ya, though?"
Fergus looked up at the large framed team photograph of West Ham United and smiled.
"It'll keep remindin' me o'Dean," Fergus said as he set a freestanding framed photograph of Viktor Krum in his Bulgaria robes on the mantelpiece beneath it, "an' I don't wanna forget the lads, none of 'em."
"Nah," Seamus said as he looked back at the picture. "Did he really sing te yeh?"
"He did." Fergus nodded.
"I tried..." Seamus began before pausing, "I tried teh watch all the memories at the trial but after seeing what they did teh Ron an' Cormac when ya first got taken, I just couldn't see 'em break him."
"They didn't!" Fergus said firmly. "He was strong fer everyone Shay. He was strong fer Ron."
Seamus' eyes darkened and he looked into the empty grate.
"Sometimes, I wish that arsehole had stabbed Ron instead o'Dean. Does tha make me a bastard?"
"Nah," Fergus shook his head, "it makes yeh a good mate. I lost both my cellmates in one go an' all I could think was 'thank Jaysis it wasn't me!'"
"I'm glad it wasn't you," Seamus said with a cheeky smile. "Who'd I have to drink me under the table?"
Fergus cackled and set off for the fridge for a couple of cans.
"I got the hint. I'm gettin' 'em!"
Ron was standing before the fireplace in the kitchen with Hermione. It was late and she needed to Floo home. Harry was up in their room, possibly getting touchy feely with Ginny, and Charlie and his father were repairing the family clock his mother had dropped when she saw Ron's hand moving around to 'Hospital'.
"Well goodnight, Hermione, dear," the older witch said as she reluctantly left them to say goodnight to each other.
She had been hovering over Ron ever since he'd returned home. Ron had tried to make light of it but he really wished she didn't seem to be waiting for him to collapse or burst into tears at any moment.
"Goodnight, Mrs Weasley," Hermione smiled and waved as the woman stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Ron sighed in relief at finally being left alone with his girlfriend and wrapped his arms around her with a tired groan.
"Can't I come with you?" he murmured into her hair.
Hermione hugged him back and gave a tired giggle.
"I wish you could but you know they'd only worry more." She looked up at him and rose up on tiptoes, kissing him on the lips softly and lowering down again with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Come for breakfast?" Ron said with his most puppy dog face ever.
Hermione laughed and curled her arms tightly around his waist, head settling on his chest, and closed her eyes.
"Are you going to make me something or take me out for something?"
"I'll make you something involving eggs," Ron grinned, "and if you fancy eating out, I can serve them to you in the garden!"
They both chuckled and Hermione looked back up at him, opening her mouth to speak, but Ron lowered his head and kissed her. He could feel her gasp into his mouth. He stroked his tongue along her bottom lip and then pushed in a little way to lap at her tongue before moving back and concentrating on kissing just her lips again.
Hermione wasn't moving her hands or her mouth. Ron guessed that she was terrified of pushing back and ruining the moment between them. Ron pulled her back a step with him and perched on the edge of the table so she didn't have to reach up for him. His mind flashed a warning to him. There was a big blinking sign inside his head saying 'you're sitting on a table' but he knew he could get up if he wanted to. He knew Hermione wouldn't push him down onto it. He knew he was safe so he ignored the sign.
Hermione felt as if she was resisting. She seemed to have a flashing sign before her as well. Ron tilted his head to one side and pulled at her bottom lip with both of his, eyes blinking back at her huge dark brown ones, and spoke in a low voice.
"I'm alright," he kissed her slightly parted lips, "it's different when you're here." He kissed her again, more firmly this time. "You're different." He let his fingers burrow into her hair as Hermione's hands held his face and pulled it towards her. "You're special."
Hermione opened her mouth and moaned into his as she massaged their lips together and even chanced a stroke of her tongue against the warm firm muscle she wanted to taste so much. Ron pulled her into him, eased his tongue deeply into her mouth and stroked it against the side of hers as he pulled back again with a sigh.
"I love you," Hermione said breathlessly.
"Don't go," Ron said as he nuzzled into the side of her neck.
"You'll be fine without me. I promise you'll be safe." Hermione paused to lap at Ron's open mouth. "You'll be peaceful," she hummed into another kiss, plunging her fingers deep into his rust-coloured hair and moving her head to the other side, "and I'd be all over you if I don't go now!"
Ron sniggered into her mouth and Hermione whimpered before laughing weakly and resting her head against the crook of his neck.
"I mean it, Ron," she sighed, "I can't push you to your limit before we stop. I won't do that to you. We have to stop now."
Ron held her close against his body and kissed the side of the head.
"What'll I do in the night if I...What'll I do?"
"You'll have, Harry."
"But Harry's not as good a kisser as you!"
Hermione felt Ron laughing and shoved him in the chest as she fought not to smirk herself. She stepped away from him, towards the fireplace, and their fingers interlaced as if reluctant to obey their minds and let go.
"I'll see you for eggs in the garden." Hermione smiled sadly.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Hermione let go of his hand and turned to grab a handful of Floo powder and throw it at her feet before Ron did something else she couldn't resist. With a burst of green flame she was gone.
Ron slumped back against the table and stared at the empty fireplace. He touched his lips and smiled sadly before shifting uncomfortably on the table. He stood up and turned to look down at it. After a few seconds he leaned over it a little way and then leaned back again. He swallowed. He leaned further over the table, holding his breath, and then pulled back yet again. Drawing in a bracing breath Ron put his hands flat down on the table and leaned right over it and tried not to tremble.
Something caught his eye from the window. There was a familiar but sudden sound and Ron flinched and leapt back with arms raised defensively. An owl landed on the table where he had been leaning and blinked three times before sticking its leg out. Ron frowned and looked at the small roll of parchment attached to the bird's foot. The owl hooted and ruffled its feathers. The parchment moved a little and he read his own name on the small roll.
Ron reached forward and untied the parchment, the owl flying away as soon as he did, and unfurled it curiously.
Mr Ronald B Weasley
The Burrow
Ottery St Catchpole
Ron glanced at the closed kitchen door and wondered who could be writing to him so late at night and if he should get one of his family to look at the letter first. It might be another fetishist wanting to talk about whipping him and shoving their fist up his arse because they know that's what he really likes.
Ron shuddered and sat down in one of the vacant chairs as he looked at the scroll. He remembered talking to Tommy about those kind of letters. The other lads would just say things like 'Dirty old poofter' but Tommy had said to him that to be a homosexual you had to have feelings first. Those letters weren't about that. They were about...well, Ron didn't like to think about how many people there were in the world who liked to think that the Puppet Master had been denied a wonderful treat in raping him.
Ron took a few deep breaths in and out before unrolling the parchment and reading the neat black handwriting.
Mr Weasley,
You may or may not be aware that my client has been trying to contact you.
My client is Mr Erbarmen and he requests one brief moment of your time for a visit to his cell in Azkaban Prison.
I understand why you would not wish to go to such an unpleasant pace and also why the idea of speaking to my client might be equally unpleasant for you but beg of you to show Mr Erbarmen this one kindness in return for a kindness he believes he showed you while you were imprisoned.
There will be a visiting order waiting for you at the reception area at Azkaban Prison at all times should you feel willing or able to grant my client a moment of your company.
Yours sincerely,
Bairstow Eves
Ron stared at the parchment and shivered from the breeze coming in through the open window. The kitchen door opened and a yawning Charlie leaned in to say something to him.
"Hey runt, she gone ye...What's that?"
Ron didn't see the point in hiding it and held it out to Charlie who took it and read quickly, jaw clenching as he did so.
"Son? Charlie, what's the matter?" their dad was asking as he tried to read over Charlie's shoulder. "Oh."
"Where did you get this?" Charlie asked Ron, tensely.
"It just came," Ron said blankly.
"At night?" Charlie asked, his whole body tensing up as he glared at the open window as if this was all its fault. "They're even pestering him at night now, Dad. That's it! I've had enough. I'm going down there."
Charlie was grabbed about the shoulders by his father and shoved backwards, with some considerable effort, into an empty chair.
"They won't let you see the man without a visiting order, now don't be silly, son."
"I'll use Ron's--this says he has one waiting for him." Charlie waved the letter between the two of them.
"Waiting for your brother, Charlie, not you," his father explained with a weary sigh. "You don't honestly think Azkaban will let anybody with the same last name show up and claim the order, do you?"
"Dad," Charlie said as he stared into his father's tired eyes with fierce intensity, "this has to stop now. I won't let them keep coming after him."
"So, I'll just be going to bed then," Ron said with a half smile at the two of them. "You don't need me for this, do you?"
Arthur turned to look at Ron and broke into a smile. Charlie just blinked incomprehensively.
"You...You don't mind that one of those bastards is writing to you?" his brother asked him in shock.
"A piece of paper can't hurt me, can it?" Ron shrugged before laughing. "Well, there's paper cuts, I suppose, but other than that."
"Ron, you don't have to put up a front for us," Charlie said as he rose from his chair. "Remember what the Healers said about your...episode?"
Ron rolled his eyes and his father did the same.
"For goodness sake, Charlie, he's not your great aunt Jemima. You'll be talking about his 'funny turns' next."
Ron grinned at his father and Charlie relaxed a little more before his serious face returned.
"But I mean it, runt," Charlie said as he looked Ron in the eyes. "The Healers said not to hide stuff, not to hold stuff in. Your head's still healing from all the beatings and..."
"I know what the Healers said, Charlie," Ron said, amusement wearing thin. "I'm not holding anything in. I just want to g-go to bed."
Ron's face suddenly looked greatly annoyed and he shoved Charlie in the chest.
"Oi!" Charlie said as he staggered back a little.
"Well, you made me stutter again...did you hear me? I was doing bloody brilliantly just then and you broke me, ya git!"
Charlie's face relaxed into a wide and very natural grin on hearing this and Ron threw a playful scowl at him before setting off for the door and slapping Charlie on the shoulder as he passed him by.
"I'm fine, Charlie. I'm just ready to Jack it in for the night and get back to being on edge tomorrow--I'm taking the night off just this once."
"Maybe we should all take the night off, too." Arthur smiled.
Ron threw a heavy arm around his dad and gave him a quick hug and a pat on the back.
"'Night, old man."
"'Night, Poopy Draws!"
Ron glared at his father and pointed a finger at him sternly.
"What happened to the 'Poopy Draws' agreement?"
"I'm making an amendment," Arthur smiled. "If you remind me I'm getting old I'll remind you exactly who potty-trained you!"
Ron considered his father for a moment before extending his hand. His father took it and shook it once.
"Amendment added."