XX
Darkness.
Absolute darkness, but not silence, no not this time.
Ron was slowly waking up.
Every cell in him wants him to remain asleep, he is tired and he aches, and he wants to sleep, he wants not to feel the pain that he knows is evitable, he wants to be able to avoid it all for a few more hours.
His mind starts to form coherent thoughts as he tries to move, his body is heavy, and he remembers, he remembers it all. He remembers the pain, the blood, the battle. He remembers everything. He isn't home, he knows he isn't home, it doesn't smell the same, he's at St Mungo's he knows he is, his eyes are closed, and he can't feel light pressing against his closed lids, which means it can't be day, it must still be night. He can hear soft voices, the whispers of those comforting tones, two voices so low he can't hear words, but he doesn't mind, the words are no source of comfort for him, but who the voices belong to are. Harry and George. They are alive, they are talking in low voices, which means they are awake. Ron groans as the pain hits him again, shifting his leg was not the best plan, but as he twitches his toes, his lips curve to a smile, his legs may burn with pain but they are both still there. His body aches and his head screams, but he is alive, and as he takes a short rasping breath, he wonders how long he was asleep for.
"And it wakes!" Harry's voice is happy and a smile is on his face as Ron opens his eyes. It takes him a moment to realise that the two of them were watching him, with carefully veiled expressions, the same expressions they wore last time he woke, but he was too tired, too concerned to notice them.
Perhaps those are the expressions fit for a time like this, but Ron doesn't trust that, there must be something more. He remembers last time he woke, he remembers how they reassured him, but he needed to see them. He needs to see his sisters soft brown eyes and have her say something sarcastic, he needs to see Hermione's bushy hair and have her correct him and say that she loves him to believe that they are both okay. He needs Bill to ruffle his year and Fleur to say 'ze'. He needs to have his mother fuss over him and Dad give him a watery smile, he needs to see them to know that they are okay, to know that somehow they are still surviving, to know that despite everything they will eventually be okay.
The two of them are watching him with carefully constructed expressions, and as Ron notices this, he can't think of anything else but what the masks are concealing, and what horror lies below. Part of him doesn't want to know, but part of him craves an answer, he needs to know, have it ripped off, quick like a bandaid as Hermione would say. He doesn't understand that analogy but the very thought of Hermione makes him smile, and only more curious about what his brothers are hiding from him.
"Oh you could definitely use some more beauty sleep, you look like shit." George says, smiling at Ron as he stands up slowly from the chair he was sitting in the first time Ron woke, before walking towards Ron's bed. The lamp is still switched on beside Ron, and that continuity gives some comfort, it means he hasn't been asleep for long, it is still night outside.
"I look better than you." Ron grins, his mouth hurting as his lips curve, but it is worth the smile that George returns. He lets the grin drop, and he wonders why his face hurts like this, he knew he was in pain before they arrived, but obviously adrenaline had done a great job at keeping the worst of it from his knowledge. But now he was no longer chocked full of adrenaline, he could feel everything, and that was not desirable at all.
"Not possible." George replies, pushing a glass of water against Ron's palm, a glass of water that Ron had not asked for, but was gratefully accepting. His mouth was dry and his throat burned, the sickly sweet taste that lined his mouth the last time he woke was gone, and now all he could taste was blood, which probably didn't mean anything good.
"How long was out this time?" Ron asked, who was sitting on the edge of the bed beside Ron, the book that he was reading last time resting on the bed beside him, closed and untouched. Something isn't right, something doesn't feel right, and as he hands George back the glass, George avoids catching his eye. He can read the expression on his face, and it is not one that he likes, but sadly it is far too familiar for his liking. George is watching him, trying not to look at him, seeing him as he little brother, which means, whatever he needs to tell him, won't be good.
"Only two hours, dawn should be on its way soon. It's almost 4am." Harry answers. He smiles at Ron, and Ron gives him a small smile back. Harry is trying, he is really trying, but Ron has known him longer than anyone, he is his best friend, his brother, the mask isn't slipping, for Ron is was never there, he may not be the most observant but he can read Harry like a Quidditch play.
"Still Wednesday?" Ron asks, his mind whirring, trying to figure out what the two of them are neglecting to tell him, what the subject they are tiptoeing around is, he wants to ask them, to prompt them, but he needs to be patient, and by the uncertain expression casting a shadow on Harry's face, he needs to prepare himself.
"Still Wednesday." Harry repeats with a small smile, a smile that is supposed to be reassuring, and to some level it is, but really, it just makes Ron more nervous, and more eager to press the issue, the issue that the two of them won't bring up.
The room fell into silence for a few seconds and Harry and George exchanged a look that Ron couldn't miss, he looked from the two of them, in wonderment. He knew they were hiding something, and obviously they both thought it was the time to tell him. He looks around him quickly, wondering what he was missing, Harry's wounds were too recent for the both of them to be lying about the time, so he can't be in the crazy part of St Mungo's trapped for years. They had said that the others were fine, but they could have been lying, although they wouldn't have done that, would they?
But then again, Percy hadn't been mentioned. Sure he was the least favourite brother, but he was still their brother, surely they would be more affected by his death than they were letting on, which brought Ron to the conclusion, that he couldn't be dead. It wasn't grief on Harry and George's faces now, no, now that the masks were beginning to fall it was fear, it was fear and uncertainty that shadowed their expressions. There was something that they had to tell Ron, but Ron felt sure that they didn't know all of it, that was the scariest thing now, the unknown, and whatever it could, whatever it would bring.
He didn't want to know.
He had to know.
Didn't he?
The thing about knowledge, is you want it, until you have it, and with this, with the energy in the room, and the expressions on their faces, Ron wasn't sure that he wanted this knowledge, he wasn't sure that they wanted to tell, but he knew one thing without a doubt, he needed to know. He had to know, and he had to deal with it, he needed to know, so they had to tell him. He couldn't wait any longer, he needed to know, now.
George is still standing in silence, his thoughts weighted and a pained expression on his face. He slowly lowers himself onto Ron's bed and looks at him, there is no longer a carefully constructed expression on his face, his eyes are wide and his face is open. Ron bites down on the inside of his lip as he looks over to Harry who is sitting on the edge of his bed staring at Ron, but not quite meeting his eye.
"Seriously what the fuck is going on?" Ron demands, his voice not quite sounding like his own, but he doesn't care, the two of them aren't really looking at him and they certainly aren't looking at each other. The uneasy feeling that dwelled in his stomach is moving up his throat, and he feels like puking. "It's my eye isn't it?" Ron asks, his voice breaking as he looks at the two of them frantically.
"No it's nothing to do with your eye!" Harry answers, shaking his head.
"There so fucking is! I'm blind aren't I?" Ron yells, looking from George to Harry as his hand balls into a fist around the sheet, he can't believe it, he's going to be blind in one eye, oh this can't be happening, he is far too young to be...
"Ron you're not fucking blind." George answers, as he places his hand on Ron's fist which is turning white. It is meant to calm him down, but it only makes Ron more terrified, his brother wouldn't be this to him if he wasn't blind, he was blind, he would never be able to see out of his eye again...
"I'm fucking blind! I am going to be totally..." Ron starts frantically. His voice catches and he can feel tears escaping from the corner from his eye, the eye that he can still see out of, for now at least. He grips the sheet tighter, wondering if it will somehow eventuate in him being blind in both eyes, never to see the world again, never being able to... Ron's expression is torn and his biting down on his bottom lip, trying to remember what everything looked like...
"Oh for fucks sake." George sighs, he removes his hand from Ron's and tucks his fingers underneath the bandage that is covering Ron's eye and rips it off in one motion. Ron flinches and bites down on his lip harder, his body aches but he was beginning to get used to that pain, this pain however is fresh.
"Shit!" Ron groans, his hand flies up to his face but George catches at, not letting his hand touch his face. Ron shoots a glare at George and draws blood from his bottom lip. His body is aching and now his face burns, more so than it did when he woke up.
"Shut your eye, your other eye you twat." George instructs, ignoring the expression on Harry's face, he knows he is scowling at him, he knows that Ron's face really hurts, it is already flaring up, but he was going to rip through some of his other bandages if George didn't get him to stop freaking out. Ron shuts his eye, the right one this time and George asks, "What can you see?"
"The asshole who almost maimed me." Ron grumbles. A smile tugs at the corner of Harry's lips. George had said he wasn't blind, but the bandage did cause some concern, and although Ron can lie, he isn't lying about this, Harry is sure of that.
"See you're not blind. And I didn't rip any skin off." George smiles and Harry opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again, Ron is already in pain, he doesn't need to tell him that for the next few days at least he will a flap of his skin not fully attached to his face. He may not be able to feel the full extent of his injuries, but Harry and George can certainly see a lot of Ron's, and for the past few hours they have been growing accustomed to everything, their own wounds and each other's. They know they look bad, simply judging by how shit each other looks. But Ron looks the worst, and he is no doubt in a world of pain.
"Fine. So why does your face look like that? Did you lie ab-" Ron sighs, then stares at George. He could break him, maybe. He could read him, maybe. He just wants to know, he needs to know, and he knows that they need to tell him, they just don't know how. George wants to protect him, Ron knows that look well, but he hates it, because the only time George looks like that, his expression so open, so soft, is when serious shit is happening.
"We're not in St Mungo's." Harry says flatly.
"Because if y-" Ron continues before he pauses, digesting what Harry is just said, he looks from George to Harry, gaping at them and that at the room around them. "I'm sorry what?" He asks, barely believing what Harry just said.
"This ain't St Mungo's." George confirms. Even though it's the second time he's heard it, he still can't believe it, they have to be, they can't be... shit.
"What?" Is all Ron can say. He is staring at George know, in complete disbelief. George gives him a sympathetic look and Ron looks over at Harry who is nodding, of course, he would have had to have this explained to him when he woke up, which meant this was the second time George had to break the news. Ron takes a small shallow breath and looks at Harry, "So where the fuck are we then?" he asks.
"We don't know exactly." Harry says slowly. Ron nods for a second and that looks over to George who still has his hand holding Ron's, Ron didn't notice until now, but he doesn't want to let go, he likes the comfort, but he wishes he didn't need it. As he digests Harry's words he forgets the hand and stares at George.
"You don't know?" Ron says slowly, his voice slightly louder than he intended it to be. Of course they didn't know, otherwise they would have led with that, but that didn't matter, what matters is that yet again they were stuck in a situation which probably doesn't have a great outcome, and they don't have Hermione, which pretty much means they will almost pretty much screwed.
"Look Ron we have no fucking clue where are, we don't know what the fuck is on the other side of this door, we have no idea what so ever." George snaps.
"Why didn't you just disapparate?" Ron asks, he knows there will be some answer, they have been awake away from hours, they wouldn't have just been twiddling their thumbs waiting for him to ask intelligible questions, but that doesn't matter, Ron can't believe it. They have to be in St Mungo's, but they aren't, so where the fuck are they? And more importantly can they leave, or will they leave alive?
"And leave you here? Are you fucking with me? Why on earth would I just leave you here, I haven't a fucking clue if I can get back in, and I am not leaving you two alone." George replies angrily, wondering why on earth Ron would even consider that as a possibility, there was no way he was leaving them here by themselves, that was a terrible idea.
"Why? Because we can't handle it? Because we-" Ron argues, glad for a distraction, at least if he does something they can do, and can do well, yell at each other, then they can forget, at least for a few minutes, that they are sitting ducks, trapped in a room, Merlin knows where. He pulls his hand out of George's grip as he glares at him.
"No, because I am not losing another brother." George answers, his voice solemn. All the argument is sapped from Ron, and he gives George a small nod and gives his a hand a small squeeze before he eyes return to scanning the room.
"Did you try the door?" Ron asks. He doesn't want to look at George, not right now, so his eyes settle on Harry, who is giving him a determined look, they have made it out of worse, they will be fine. They just need to get out of this room, they just need to work out an escape plan, or at least have some defence strategy in place if they need it.
"Course I tried the fucking door. I can't get it open and I'm not all that sure I want to." George sighs. He was the first to wake, which meant he had been stewing in his thoughts for hours upon hours now, which was not fun, especially as he attempted to work out how to break the news to the two of them. He wanted to at the very least have a plan worked out by the time they woke up, or by some miracle get them back to St Mungo's without them ever knowing that they left.
"So we don't know where we are, we don't know who took us. Well what the fuck do we know?" Ron asks, looking from Harry to George desperately. He wants to yell, he feels like yelling would help, but he knows it won't, they need to clear their minds as best they can and figure out what is happening, they don't have Hermione or Ginny so they have to make do with each other.
"We were at St Mungo's, we were because Mum had just left the room, and that, that is the last thing I remember. When I woke up I was here, with you two schumcks." George answers, he closes his eyes as he tries to picture it, just as he had done hundreds of times over the last few hours, trying to find a detail, something so small he hadn't noticed yet, something that would make some of this, any of this clearer.
"We all have our wands, which does seem like a well thought out plan, but if we can't get out, wands or not, it doesn't matter does it?" Harry says as he grips his wand and looks at Ron and George. Wands are helpful, but if the door doesn't open, the wands aren't really much help. There is probably some spell to break the charm on the door, but George didn't want something to go wrong while attempting to open it, so he only tried for about an hour to get the door open, and had to put out several small fires in the process. George and Ron nod in reply, their eyes downcast as they sit in silence, thinking.
"Wait, if we're not in St Mungo's then why the fuck does it look like we are?" It suddenly occurs to Ron what has been bugging him since the moment Harry said they weren't at St Mungo's. The room looked almost exactly like the room he had been in the last time he had been to St Mungo's, he was pretty sure that this was almost identical, it had to be.
"Well I didn't want you too freak out when you first woke up, easing you into it seemed like the best option. So I transformed the room, it wasn't hard with my exception skill and-" George starts, a cocky smile growing on his face as he reaches out and fills Ron's cup with water again.
"Yeah, it looks great, well done, congrats. Can we get back to the matter at hand, why are we here?" Harry interrupts him, looking searchingly at the both of them. The last few days had been pretty relaxing, well sort of, and then this appeared out of nowhere, all of sudden they were attacked, not just the Burrow, but homes all over the place were attacked as well, and now they weren't even in St Mungo's they were somewhere else. Tom Riddle was dead, he was certain about that, but that didn't mean that someone else was in charge, that someone else had spearheaded a campaign to kill the boy who lived, and preferred the slow drawn out method, of capturing before killing. He had to hand it to them, they were efficient, only took them two weeks, where Tom had failed for years.
"Why, who, what, when, where, how... we know none of it." George says, giving Harry a small glare before smiling at him. George pushes the glass of water into Ron's hand and makes him drink it before he refills it and Harry leans over and grabs it, taking a sip.
"But you've been awake for hours! What have you been doing?" Ron demands, Harry laughs and takes another sip, resisting the urge to shake Ron's shoulders. Apart from attempting to open the door and think of a plan to get out, George had been kept rather busy but a few other tasks in the last few hours.
"Keeping you alive you asshole, do you think it was easy? You're dressings still needed changing and you stopped breathing at one point." George replies punching Ron very lightly in the arm, he barely touches him but he still sees a look of pain shadow Ron's expression as the shot of pain makes Ron bite down on the inside of his lip, trying to keep the grimace off his face. George gives him an apologetic smile and Ron tries to muster a smile in return, but it only makes his face hurt more.
"How long have we been here for?" Ron asks, as he resists the urge to touch his face, he can tell by the look George gives him when he raises his hand a little, that he absolutely should not touch his face, and he will use force to stop him if he must. Ron may not be blind, but he knows that not everything is okay.
"Hours." George groans as he leans back, lying down on Ron's bed, Ron shifts his legs out of the way, trying not to release the strangled sound that rises up his throat in protest to moving. George stares up at the ceiling as Harry closes his eyes and falls backwards, lying on his bed, with his legs hanging over the side.
"Thank you for that detailed description." Ron sighs as he gives George a soft kick but immediately regrets the action when pain shoots up his leg, his whole body hurts, aches, and his face is still burning, and he is resisting the urge to touch it. "I feel like I was awake for the entire duration of it with you." Ron adds with another sigh as he closes his eyes.
Twenty minutes passes by, and they are all still sitting in the same places as before, squabbling as they tried to establish a person, a set of circumstances that this occurred in. The most likely and of course the most farfetched situations were brought up, but ultimately it always came back to one question. One question that was at the forefront of their minds, one question that they couldn't possibly ignore, the question that is on the tip of their tongues but no one wants to say. Over twenty minutes not one of them brought up, no one wanted to bring their attention to it, no one wanted to ask because no one knew the answer.
What about the others?
Last George had heard, everyone was fine, well not everyone, but people were fine, some were still touch and go, others hadn't been fine, but their family, that they felt guilty for solely concerning themselves with, their family was safe. Fleur and Bill were alive, Charlie and Arthur were good, and Molly was still her same old self, so she was no doubt somewhere yelling at someone over not being able to see her sons. Little Teddy had been fine, the last time George had seen him he was in Fleur's arm, as he left Hermione and Ginny's room and went back to Ron and Harry.
"But hours have passed since then, what if St Mungo's was attacked? It had to have been hadn't it, otherwise how else would we have disappeared from there? How would we have ended up here if St Mungo's wasn't attacked?" Harry asks. They hadn't made any sort of plan, any sort of advancements, but they had been able to just talk for twenty minutes, not relaxed, not calm, but they had been able to talk everything through, and hope to God that they weren't being watched.
"Sure it could have been bu-" George starts, somehow he doesn't think that happened, he doesn't know why, but he can't imagine St Mungo's burnt to the ground, maybe a floor was destroyed, a few rooms, a corridor, but surely the entire place wasn't now ash and flame, rubble and smoke.
"What about the Ministry? Surely that could have been infiltrated. It's happened before, why wouldn't it happen again." Harry suggests, his mind is full, his brain is practically whirring, he needs to know some answers to the millions of questions on the surface of his brain, but no doubt any new information will simply lead to more questions. Were the others okay, they had to be didn't they? They couldn't be dead, they couldn't lose anyone else, he couldn't...
"Mum and Dad were at the Ministry!" Ron half yells, almost as if the idea had just occurred to him.
"Look there is no point worrying, whether or not any of this has happened, you two freaking out changes shit. We just have to figure out how to get out of here."
"Why don't we apparate?" Ron says suddenly. The idea is so obvious, they theorised ways to get out, reasons for their capture for over twenty minutes, and yet none of them broached the idea of apparating again. Harry and George stare at him for a second, and Ron quickly adds, "You said you didn't want to leave us here right? Well we are all awake, so we could just leave right?"
"True." George says, the word his weighted, and he nods slowly at Ron. Harry nods as well, wondering how it had only just occurred to them now, sure Ron wouldn't be able to walk, and neither would Harry, not really, but they didn't need to, they could simply apparate and place protective charms, and sit out the night, before trying to find out more. "Where do we want to go?" He asks, looking at Ron before glancing over to Harry.
"Well we can't go to the Burrow, it may not be safe." Ron states. They all know it to be true, but they are all void for ideas, and stating the obvious is the best way to go. The Burrow could be burnt to the ground, or painted with the blood of their friends, they couldn't go there, not yet, not with themselves in this state, not without knowing.
"What about the woods we camped in for the Quidditch World Cup?" Harry suggests. The death eaters probably won't think to go there, it's isolated so no one will be there, probably, and it's the best idea that Harry has at the moment. Part of him thinks that perhaps a Muggle area is a safer bet, but in this state, none of them can blend in, and he doesn't want to put anyone else in danger if he can avoid doing so. Ron nods and George sits up, slides off the bed and stands between Ron and Harry's bed, wand in one hand, as Ron places a hand firmly on George's arm, and on the other side Harry does the same. All clutching their wands, they close their eyes, their fingers tightening around the wands, as they wait...
"Shit." Ron groans. Nothing happened, they didn't move. After all of this, they can't apparate, there is no way out of this room, they can't leave, they simply don't have a way out, and they don't know what to do, they could put up a protective charm around them, they could attempt to open the door...
"Do y- Can you hear that?" Harry asks, as he strains his ears, his eyes fixed on the doors. Ron gives a small nod, as his lips become a fine line and he chews on the inside of his lip, his body aching as his face drains of colour. They knew this moment was coming, it had to be, but that didn't mean that any of them was prepared for it, they just remained where they were listening for a few seconds, hoping that their ears were deceiving them, hoping against all hope...
"Someone's coming." George says. Ron and Harry let go of George, their faces pale and their expressions determined, determined and afraid. As the footsteps approach, the slapping of shoes against the wooden floor, George counts, he can't tell how far the steps are apart, there is more than one person coming. The footsteps get louder and closer, and as their fingers curl around their wands, their eyes fixed on the door, their heads screaming, as they wonder whether they will leave this room alive...
Will they have to throw a spell that will save their lives?
Will they even be given the chance to survive?
As the footsteps pause in front of the door, Harry takes a deep breath in wishing he could kiss Ginny one last time, Ron pushes the pain out of his mind wishing he could see Hermione one last time, and George wonders if he won't have to look in the mirror to see his twin again...
XX
AN: Sorry for the wait, it was far longer than I intended it. I was sick, then I had mock exams, and then I just couldn't get this chapter done. Hopefully this makes up for the wait :D Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and thanks for everyone who followed and favourite this, and is still reading it, at chapter 29, wow. It is almost the one year anniversary of this story, that is a month away now, so I will try to do something special for then, and I will try to make sure the next update is only a few weeks away :D
Also, it has occurred to me that Ron swears far more than I have written thus far, hence the increased amount of swearing in this chapter.
