Part Three
Chapter Twenty
For whatever reason, Hermione's heart twisted painfully in her chest, and she placed a hand over her mouth to keep in the scream. "Oh, God," she whispered. Why had Ron come to see her here? Why not go back to his own rooms? This was not good, this could not be good…
Ron looked sour as he watched her gasp. "I won't touch you," he said finally. "You can tie me to a chair if it makes you feel better." He sat down in one of the large armchairs and held out his hands. "I'm unarmed."
That shut her up. "What?" she asked, bewildered. "What do you mean?"
His eyes widened in surprise. "You don't know?" he asked curiously. "You haven't heard?"
"Haven't heard what?" she replied harshly. Pansy's words rang in her ears. "Did you hear the latest news about your boyfriend, Mudblood?" Oh, dear Lord, what now?
Ron sighed and stood up. "Well," he said uncertainly. ""I guess it's better that you don't know just yet. It'll be easier for me to tell you." He walked over to Hermione and stood in front of her, so close that they were almost touching. She stared at his face, worried. He looked so thin. And pale, like he hadn't been out of doors in weeks. He reached out one hand and lightly touched her cheek. She closed her eyes and let him put his arms around her and pull her to him. She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shirt. He smelled so good- shampoo and mandarin oranges.
"I missed you so much," Ron whispered in her ear. "I almost ran away from the hospital just to see you, or talk to you. Or just watch you. You listen to me, you don't just look at me like I'm some sort of nutcase." He stroked the back of her head, winding her ponytail around his hand.
She blinked tears out of her eyes and sniffed. "Why did you come to see me up here?" she asked. "Why not just come back and see everyone?"
He squeezed her, then let her go quickly, stepping away from her. "It's a long story," he said without emotion. Then he brightened. "But I've go lots of time. Sit down, make yourself comfortable," he added sarcastically, gesturing to a chair opposite him.
She sat slowly. "What's going on?" she asked quietly, almost whispering. She was almost afraid to know the answer.
Ron sighed heavily, his hands in his hair, pulling his face into odd shapes. "I guess I'll start at the beginning," he said finally. "Do up your seatbelt, sit back and enjoy the ride." He stared at her for a moment, then opened his mouth and began speaking.
"It all got kicked off in August, about three weeks before school started. When the Death Eater found me, and took me to Voldemort. But you know that story. In fact, you know the whole story up until I left. So I'll start up at when I got to the hospital.
"They stuck me in my own room, no roommates and no visitors. I guess they didn't really know what to do with me. Didn't know if I was actually sick or just mad. Besides, they didn't want me bothering the other patients. So, I got my own room. It really sucked. The only person I ever saw was the doctor or anyone on TV. Yes, they had a TV. Don't ask me why.
Anyway, cut from contact, I didn't really know what was going on. All I could do was sit aroud, draw, read, and wait for the attacks to come. And they came, all right. Got up to five hours at a shot, I'm told. They had a potion they'd give me to put me to sleep, so I wouldn't feel the pain. I could still feel it pretty well, though, and the dreams they induced were none too pretty. And boy, did it ache like hell when I woke up. Some kind of side effect from sleeping through it, I guess.
"About three weeks ago, I started noticing that the doctors were looking at me oddly. Suspiciously. They didn't say anything, of course. Too damned polite. But they shot me weird looks, and they were always whispering about something. I didn't get it. What on Earth more could possibly go wrong? But, exactly one week after that, a bunch of guys from the Ministry showed up and carted me off with them. They didn't say why, it was just, 'You're going with these guys, now.'
"So, off I went. Now, let me tell you, the Ministry people are brilliant when it comes to politics- well, most of them- but they no absolutely nothing about medicine. Didn't even clue in to put me to sleep when the attacks came. Therefore, I got to stay awake through the whole thing. They just stood around. I think I passed out a couple of times though, so that's a blessing. But still, no one tells me what's going on.
"One day I lost my temper and just yelled at them to tell me what the hell was going on. That was two days ago. They told me basically this:
"The spell I was placed under- the Malady Curse- has a funny little twist that is often not mentioned. After a certain period of time being under it, the victim begins to give off the aura of a Dark Artist. They absorb darkness. Suspicion grows around them, and even just saying their name can arouse it. That's how the rumors started, you know, people feeling the gradual building of evil in me. In any case, the doctors noticed it, and they sent me off to the Ministry for holding and questioning. I made them nervous.
"So I sat around the Ministry building for a while, and everyone started to get their own ideas about me. Rumors spread like wildfire. 'You know that kid they've got up there in the Department for Dark Research…' You get the idea. I never heard any of them, and I think Dumbledore must have blocked the school from the news, so you never heard them.
"So, when I asked them to give me the truth, they gave it to me. They thought I was evil or something. The rumors had become fact. It was all over the papers that I had sold Harry and Ginny to Voldemort in exchange for my lying ability. Now everyone thinks I've come back for you."
Hermione sat there, speechless. What was she supposed to say? "So that's why you said I could tie you up," she breathed finally. "You thought I believed you were a Death Eater." She closed her eyes. "But how come I never felt it?" she asked. "I never noticed any of the darkness."
Ron frowned. "You did, in a way. You felt the pain of it when you touched me. But about not knowing it was me- I think it was that whole psychic thing. Lavender told me about it before I left. Said I had the right to know. Anyway, I think that let you see through the curse. So you just couldn't see the darkness."
She frowned. "But- now that they know about the curse and its effects, can't they just say that they were wrong and let you go?"
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "You know Fudge, Hermione," he said sarcastically. "Doesn't like to admit that he's wrong. Therefore, no, I doubt I'll be released anytime soon."
She could feel him nudging the line. He was leaving something out. "Well, what are they going to do with you then? Keep you with the Ministry for the rest of your life? Toss you in Azkaban?"
Ron got out of his seat and sat on the table in front of Hermione. "They told me you sent the book," he told her. "That's how they found out what the curse was." She nodded. "And you read it- you have to have read it to find the bit about the curse." She nodded again. "Then- then you ought to know where I'm going with this.." He trailed off when he noticed Hermione looking lost. "Did you read the section on Malady curses?" he repeated.
"I didn't read the whole thing," she said, suddenly remembering. "I only read the short term effects. I didn't read the rest. It was too hard." She looked straight at him, and saw that his eyes were very green. "Where are you going with this?" she asked, frightened. "It talked about possession. How much of the rumors are true? Are you here to hurt me?"
He jumped to his feet, incredulous. "What? No, of course not!" He sat back down, frowning. "Well-"
"Well what?" Hermione whispered. "What are you saying?"
Ron closed his eyes, wincing as if she'd slapped him. "I'm not going to kill you, Hermione. I didn't come here to hurt you. But- I don't think the news that I have for you is going to make you especially happy."
She pressed back into her seat, but Ron pulled her out and made her stand in front of him. He held her tightly by the shoulders. "Hermione," he whispered. "Don't ever believe that I don't love you. I love you more than anything in the entire world, Hermione. I would give my life if it meant saving yours. Always remember that."
She could feel the tears coming, and she blinked them back. "What are you saying?" she whispered, so quiet that she could barely even hear herself. "What are you trying to tell me?"
He let go of her and looked down. "It's the punchline of the whole thing, Hermione," he said flatly. "Aside from pain, illness and insanity, the Malady Curse also results in eventual death." He paused. "I'll be dead be noon tomorrow."
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