Family Ties

By Chibi Tears of Pain

He hurt…alright it felt worse than that, but…

…he didn't want to be alone right now.

Which was ridiculous, because he knew no one could be here with him. He didn't want anyone here with him, but then… he so did not want to be alone right now.

Bill looked down at his trembling hands; his shaking had to be from the cellars unpleasantly cold air – he would not be scared of this. He would not let it rule his life–

The cement was pitilessly hard, and gave his head no mercy when they connected. He could feel the cool air skate across his skin – goose flesh breaking out where it teased the exposed flesh. He wasn't really worried about that though; it was dutifully noted in the back of his mind, as was the cement floor that leached through his clothes and solidified in his bones. Yet this did nothing to anchor him, he continued to twitch – Bill could feel his muscles contract and realise and it was painful and it hurt…

He didn't want this...

He really, really didn't want this.

His arms were locked around his knees in front of his chest and he shook, his knees hitting his arms in an attempt to spasm freely. He could feel this arms strain against the jumping muscles that fought for control – control he didn't have. He didn't want to do this – any of this. He didn't want this pain, this–

"–ahhghh!"

And his arms let his knees go; they flew away from his chest and shot out from him, flipping him onto his back. He felt his body repeatedly slap itself against the concrete, and all Bill could do was claw at his scalp, trying to get to the pain, the problem, and tear it out.

Because it owww-hurthurthurthurt- HE DIDN'T WANT THIS!

Bill saw the cellar door – the only sentry that cared to watch him suffer through this; only an inanimate object between him and his family.

Bill had a moment – or thought he did – of clarity. He sincerely hoped that his 'guard' stayed indestructible; one person – if he could still call himself that – who was tantalised by the moon, was enough. It's not like he wanted company, anyway…

Eyes widened as Bill felt his spine tear out of his back, muscles shredding away, snapping away from the escaped bone; skin rippling over muscles, tightening and tightening until it succeeded in reversing there positions…

The heat that ran down his back in rivulets finally warmed him – seeping right through his quivering, arching body so he could watch the coppery drops steadily fall off his shoulders. He went to scream, and more of the ­– red, red so very very red – molasses spew out.

Bill stared in horror at the blood splattered cement.

And Bill continued to feel…

Later that night, when a wolf, but man, yet still a beast cried to the moon that it could not see deep in the cellar of the 'Burrow,' the rest of the Weasley clan listened.

And they accepted that they could not offer him – the creature that he had become – any comfort, no matter the tears shed or sleep missed.

Because there were no miracles for those who could not even afford Wolfsbane.

--

Bill stared at his loyal guard – its planks were scratched and the dark wood had caved in spots – dented by a savage power that no human possessed. But it remained standing and all Bill could feel was relief that his isolation lasted through the night.

Dazed, he continued to stare at the door, completely captivated by its simple and unyielding planks, because it was far better to be mesmerized by wood than delusional in pain.

He was lightly pondering whither or not the door was aspen or old English pine; not that he knew the difference, mind you, he just knew the door was wood….he was pretty sure of this at least, really though, the possibility of it being anything else is rather small…but with magic you could never truly tell…

And during Bills confuzzled inner turmoil, he never heard his ever vigilant guardian cry out; the un-oiled hinges of the cellar door protesting as intent ridden hands that pushed against the very purpose it was assigned hours before. The door opened and Molly was able to rush to her son's side, carefully lifting his head on to her bent knees. Bill did not even hear her frantic call for Arthur, too lost in his shock induced haze.

Bill had decided that the door must be merely a wall, disguised as a door, hence the reason for it being so solid...this delirious answer to his dilemma allowed Bill to accept the creeping unconsciousness that had been hammering at his head. It was in beat with his heart that pounded the blood through his body, and out beastly, self inflicted wounds that were the wolf's parting gift.

And while red stains crept along the stone floor, three small heads peeked around the wooden-wall door to see what had caused their father to go running down to the cellar.

One face was adorned with glasses, and it paled at the sight of - of the scene, wishing he had stayed out just a bit longer.

One of the twins lost last nights supper and went running back to his room, leaving Rowland to watch, wide-eyed as his brother bled from wounds that could not have been made by any human.

--

Every time Percy met his eyes he flinched. That was how Bill knew that he knew. Oh sure, Percy had known about the attack and had accumulated a vast amount of knowledge about werewolves (no matter how false), but now he truly knew.

But besides Percy's (failed) attempts at obliviousness, the rest of the family had settled into a tentative routine. Mum would scold the twins who had started to cause mischief (being secretly supplied with illicit items courtesy of Charlie's brawns and Bill's bored mind), then she would be distracted by Ginny who would hold her up until at least lunch, before Mum would set off to drag Percy away from his books. This gave Bill from seven am to one pm to enjoy the absence of mother hen. Sentenced to bed rest while he healed from his first…transformation (he really hoped that Moore hadn't lied when he said the first transformations was the worst, and while the others are not pleasant, they are definitely not as bad), he found himself reading, and rereading his books. But there was only so much he could read, no matter the comic relief the twins brought...or at least one pair did.

His youngest brothers were a different matter entirely.

Ron would stop eating when he walked into the room, looking pitifully into his food as if wanting to eat but knowing he'll be sick. Then Rowland, well he...Would. Not. Stop. Staring.

As soon as Bill was in the vicinity, Rowland's eyes would home in on him, and would not un-stick themselves from his body until he was out of sight, though he had his doubts on whether or not the walls actually stop his youngest brother's relentless eyes.

Bill did not know how much longer would last under those stares. They were not confrontational or accusatory, disgusted or frightened. They were worse; Bill didn't know what they were. Rowland's face would be completely blank; his eyes dulled so much that Bill could barley see the usual green tint in their murky brown depths. There was more than one time that Bill just wanted to yell at him, just to get others to notice how corpse-like Rowland would act around him. No one else had even seemed to notice that the youngest male Weasley had yet to say a word to him since the full moon, but Bill couldn't bring himself to point it out. He was afraid the Rowland's cool apathy would spread, and he had become rather spoilt with having his family (or at least most of it) back.

--

"It's not supposed to be like that, is it?"

Percy paused while turning the page, glancing up at the twins haunting his door frame. Rowland held his stare, his lip twitching downwards in an attempt not to frown, while Ronald started to shuffle his feet, angrily glaring at the floorboards as he partook in what he probably deemed a hopeless mission. Everyone knew it was taboo to talk about it.

"Well, is it or isn't it?" Rowland was nothing if not insistent.

Sighing, Percy put the book down to focus his full attention on the twins. Really, he should have expected this, it's not like they could speak to mum and dad about this, not for the honest answers that they want, at least.

"For the most part, it is exactly like that," said Percy, "though from what I've read that is as worse as it gets."

Ron gnawed on his lip, his eyes unconsciously tracing the grain in the wood flooring.

"Is it like that for everybody? Or're we just unlucky in this too?"

Percy frowned at them. "Does it look like I know what other werewolves go through?" He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and looked away from them with a huff.

"Look," he said, his voice the only proof that he even realised they were there, belying how intently he was looking out his window. "We are not unlucky. Bill and Charlie were just stupid and now one of them's paid for it."

"What has Charlie got to do with anything?" Rowland had caught his slip, the little imp. Percy scowled at them as they scurried over to his bed, plopping themselves down in the middle of it in wait of a story.

"He and Bill got in an argument, and when Bill went to fetch his pansy arse he was bitten by a werewolf." Percy obliviously did not favour one brother to the other…obviously.

Ronald gasped at the evident truth that was revealed, even Rowland's eyes widened (far be it that his rock imitating brother actually make an involuntary sound) though Percy suspected it was more from his crude language and blunt statement than anything else.

"Is there anything we can do?" Percy raised an eyebrow at his talking rock of a brother.

"You know, to help and all," clarified Ronald, calling Percy's gaze onto himself.

Percy leaned back in his chair, deliberately to give the impression of actually thinking the question over. "There are various treatments that allow the transition to go more…smoothly, but–"

"Then why haven't mum and dad gotten' one?!" Ronald flung himself off of the bed in outage as he practically yelled at Percy.

"Because we're dirt poor, or did you actually think those hand-me-downs you wear haven't run through the sibling circuit?" Percy's retort was sharp – short, cutting and to the point, but it was truth, and that is what made it sting. Percy had broken the second Weasley family taboo; not only had he brought attention to their monetary problems, he openly scorned the twins for thinking that it wasn't an obstacle. Percy had been feeling frustrated with the situation – another that was forced on them that they could do nothing about – and he being was spiteful in unleashing in unleashing his frustration on his younger brothers, and the damage was done.

Red faced and tense, Ronald was shaking, his eyes trying to through Percy's forehead.

Then Rowland spoke – quietly of course, because he was always as silent as the undisturbed predator, still before the strike.

"We don't have the money now, but one day we will Percy, and then there'll be no more hamie-downs or werewolf-isms."

Percy merely watched their angry departure with a raise eyebrow, briefly wondering if he had ever been naive enough to believe that galleons grew in gnome holes.

--

Rowland sat unmoving on the three legged stool, having finally found his center of balance he was actually able to make use of the broken thing, at the price of even the smallest movement. His immobility did not affect Ronald as he kicked the desk leg, making the loose change on top rattle.

"So that's all we have?" he asked, dropping onto the bottom bunk bed, falling back until his head hit the lumpy and well worn mattress. Even that was a hamie-down.

"Yup." Rowland carefully turned his neck to face his twin. "Seventeen knuts and there sickles – that'll buy two bars of mum's frogspawn soap, three cauldron cakes and a blood lolly."

Ronald scrunched up his face in disgust as he half started to get up, "Blood lolly?"

"I've always wanted to try one, and the soap's for mum; she said she'd be needing more." Rowland spoke with the voice of reason, appeasing Ronald's worries.

"Then I get the extra cauldron cake." Ronald was now fully up right, though still on the bed and had his arms crossed, leaving no room for discussion.

"Of course."

They were both ready to purchase the merchandise that would help Bill through his transformation, and with that in mind, they were determined to travel to Diagon Alley to see their venture through. If only they could sneak by mum…

--

TBC…

Do Ronald and Rowland make it to Diagon Alley, or does their dreaded foe, the Mum-ster, catch them in time? Will the famed cauldron cakes cure Bill of such a horrid disease? And will Percy ever feel remorse for leading the twins astray with his vile words?

Well, as unlikely as that is, I just couldn't resist…

Thank you to JohnnyRocketship for pointing out that I posted chapter two twice. It was accident, and I will try to avoid repeating it in the future...but can I say, I'm human!

Also, I am aware that there may be mistakes in my writing, though I do try my best to catch them. If you happen to see one, please inform me and I will fix it when I update again. Thank you! :)

– Chibi Tears of Pain