Chapter Twenty Five

by Solstice Muse

I told them and told them and told them again and they still keep asking more of the same questions.

How many of them were there? Was I sure Wormtail was with them as he'd been reported dead in the final battle? Was it true that my 'mental state' might have caused me to get confused about what I might have seen and heard?

That really ticked dad off actually.

He'd pulled the Auror, who was trying to get me to drink Veritaserum, away from me and gave them a right telling off.

"You are aware that my son has been through a lot, not counting being attacked by thugs who hospitalised him only this afternoon, and is currently taking a very strong potion for his nerves...?"

I cringed at that. My 'nerves' – it made me sound like a menopausal woman!

"If he ingests any more potions he'll overdose you fool!"

There must have been something in the way I raised my eyebrows at this that caused the Auror to back down immediately. I shook my head and turned away with a sigh. When dad slapped his hand on my back I jumped and he smiled one of his worried smiles and asked me if I'd feel better putting the memory into a Pensieve rather than recite it yet again.

That suited me, I agreed immediately and a bottle was found for me to drop the memory into. It was quite a thick silvery blob of memory that dangled from the end of my wand. I wondered what would happen if I emptied everything I had in my head into a barrel. Would I feel any better without it? Would it make a difference?

"Ron?" Dad said as he shook my shoulder, snapping me out of my navel gazing trance.

"Yeah?" I smiled and blinked as I was guided out of the room by my father's forceful hand and steered along the corridor towards the lifts.

"You did a good thing coming straight to us with this. I'm very proud of you."

"Yeah," I said with a half hearted shrug.

Dad grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it tightly, causing me to turn around and look back at him questioningly.

"I know you're distracted these days son but please do be careful out there in the world on your own won't you?" the old man said with a crinkle in his brow, "It may all be over as far as You-Know-Who is concerned but there are still plenty of people who would like to hu... Please be careful Ron. Don't wander anywhere by yourself eh?"

I smiled at the worried old bloke and patted him on the back reassuringly.

"You offering to be my escort?"

"I'd escort my boy anywhere!" Dad said as he proudly lifted his chin with a beaming grin.

"How 'bout the pub?" I suggested.

"Are you allowed to drink with your potion?" he said before cringing at how much he sounded like my mother, "Oh would you listen to me, but Ron I really do worry. Are you sure?"

I nodded.

"One Butterbeer won't hurt and I've not taken anything since this morning's dose. It's probably out of my system but now actually."

"Ah, that explains you being so quiet in there," dad sighed as we stepped into the lift and he leaned over to press the button for street level, "even when you were snapping at us your heart wasn't in it."

I laughed at this, Hermione had once said something similar when I gave up three insults into an argument – a fact the totally unsettled her. I was coming down and feeling weary and worn down from the day's events. Merlin help me I actually needed a nap.

Cart me away now...I'm officially an old geezer.

Dad was gently knocking on my bedroom door.

"Tell 'em I'm sick, something contagious, keep them away from me."

"No Ron," he said, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind him, "it's Sunday, it's the family day. Charlie is here, Bill and Fleur, the twins...everybody makes the effort to come for Sunday dinner for your mother. You know how she gets when the table is empty?"

"It won't be empty," I mumbled from beneath the blankets of my bed, "nobody'll miss me if you don't point it out."

I felt the bed sag with my father's weight as he perched himself on the edge and set his hand lightly upon the side of my head, through layers of sheets, blankets and a raggedy old quilt.

"You are already missed and if I tell them you're feeling unwell they will want to come up and say hello."

I flung the covers back in a huff and glared at dad in a way he seemed to find shocking.

"What good does saying 'hello' do to a sick person?"

He just stared at me. He didn't say a word. I snorted and fidgeted about for something else to complain about. He was still looking at me.

"What?" I snapped sharply.

Dad got up from the bed and began picking out some underwear and clothes for me to wear.

"I'm not coming down to be talked at and told what to do and made to feel like a dick by the twins and invisible by Bill and Fleur and mph!"

A jumper hit me in the face. I tore it away and flung it to the ground before slamming myself back onto my side and pulling the covers over my head.

The covers were wrenched back again and dad caught them in mid air, pausing to put his wand away again, before throwing them out the open window.

"Are you mad?" I gaped at the senile old coot.

He took a step towards me and began to wrestle me out of my Cannons t-shirt that was almost growing moss it was so moist.

"Get off me! Leave me alone and tell your bloody wife to fuck up her other kids today and give this one a bloody break!"

As soon as I said it we both froze.

We froze and stared at each other.

He was looking right into me in a way that made my insides squirm.

"Dad please," I begged him, "today's a bad day, please dad?"

He looked at me intensely before turning to glance in the direction of the bathroom and then back at me.

"I've taken it alright," I said, my shoulders falling, "it's not working. Well it is but it's not making things better."

He lifted his eyebrows at me.

"I don't want to have to talk to people and if I stay out of the way then maybe people will forget I'm here and I can just get through all this mess without bothering anybody."

He sat down on the chair beside my cluttered desk and blinked.

"They're going to want me to be...ME and I can't right now dad. I'm all messed up by the potion and the other stuff and keeping it all a secret and don't say I can fix that by telling everybody because then they'll never leave me alone and mum'll drive me nuts and Harry'll tear his hair out with the guilt and..."

I looked at him, waiting for the inevitable interruption.

It didn't come.

"I just want to disappear for one day dad," I said, my eyes beginning to burn and my voice breaking, "just for today."

He shuffled the chair forward and leaned closer to grab my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He stared into my reddening eyes and pulled me in closer so he could kiss my forehead.

"Are you finished?" he asked kindly.

I exhaled deeply and rubbed at my stinging eyes with the heel of my palms before nodding.

"Yeah, sorry."

"I keep telling you, you need to work that through your system rather than just curling up. The potion will never do its job if you don't go about your life as normal."

"I know."

"It'll think this is normal and it isn't is it? This isn't you, not my wonderful remarkable Ron."

I reached out my hand and took the jumper from him.

"Tell them I overslept and I'll be down in a minute okay?"

He grinned at me and pulled me into a tight hug.

"You take your time son."

I pulled a beer mat apart absent-mindedly while I waited for dad to come back with our drinks. I kept looking up, feeling as if somebody was looking at me, but paranoia is one of the side effects of the bloody potion so I was used to that by now.

I huffed and turned my attention back to busying my fingers.

I sometimes wish there was a switch I could flick to just turn off my thoughts for a while, take a break from thinking. Now I know that most people who know me will claim I do very little thinking at all, certainly not before I speak, but I sometimes feel as if I've been overloaded with conflicting thoughts.

I'm like a cauldron that's filled to the brim. If you look at it it's just like every other cauldron but just one thing, one tiny drop more added to the contents and it all comes spilling over and creates a big mess of crap that nobody wants to deal with.

I just kept adding and adding to that bloody cauldron and now, every time I siphon a little off so it's not about to spill I have to top it back up with that bloody potion.

There it was again.

I shifted in my seat and looked around. Maybe it was dad popping back to keep an eye on me. I was probably just imagining it again.

After all...who'd be watching me?