Harry tossed and turned for at least an hour before finally falling asleep. He had mulled over the events of that night, trying to piece everything together, but without success.
After Ron had stormed out, Harry and Hermione spent a good hour or so in Ron's room, pacing, thinking, worrying, until eventually Harry saw how tired Hermione was and sent her to Ginny's room.
"You need to get some sleep. Plus, won't Gin be wondering where you are?" he had asked her.
"Yeah, I suppose…I'll have to make up an excuse…um…I'll tell her that I was showing you how to do…I dunno, some charm. It's something school related, so she can't blame me. Yeah, that's what I'll do…" Hermione trailed off as she headed towards the door. Once there, she said over her shoulder, "You'll come get me, when he shows up, right? Because I want to-"
"Yes, Hermione, don't worry. Now go to bed." And Hermione left.
Harry plunked himself on Ron's bed. He thought long and hard, and determined that there was really two major questions that needed answering. 1) Why else did Bill and Charlie move back in with the Weasley's, besides 'just to be with them'? And 2) Where were those damn scars coming from?
Harry couldn't answer the first question, or even speculate, really, but the second one…
Maybe he got into a fight. No, that wouldn't work. These aren't scars from a fight. Could they be…no…not self inflicted. Ron wouldn't do that, and besides, one or two were out of his reach. Perhaps someone else did it for him…oh please, Potter, use your head!
He thought about it until he could think no more, and soon he was fast asleep. The next thing Harry knew, he was being shaken by a very frantic Hermione. He blinked twice, then sat up, straightening his glasses. Hermione stood by the bed, wearing blue pajamas and a plaid robe. She was nervously twisting the belt to her robe around and around her finger.
"Mione…what's up?" Harry asked, still half asleep.
"Did he…? Cause you never – and I got worried, and…"
"Wait, whoa whoa whoa! What's going on? Coherent sentences please."
"Ron never came back, did he?" she whispered fiercely
And realization hit Harry over the head like an iron bat. He jumped up and rushed out the door, going down the stairs as quietly as possible, Hermione close behind. After a quick search of the back yard, the two went into the field just beyond. The first thing Harry noticed was the bits of white parchment scattered around. The second thing he noticed was the figure lying by the tree.
"Over there," he said, pointing. Hermione's eyes grew wide, and she ran. Harry followed suit, breathing hard. They both stopped abruptly as they reached Ron. He wasn't hurt. He was just…sleeping. He looked almost peaceful. Almost. There was dried blood on his shirt and lip, and his right hand clutched the bottom of his shirt so tightly his knuckles were white. This was an extremely disturbing sight, considering his face showed no sign of being afraid or sad or in pain.
Harry glanced at Hermione, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe we should wake him?" Hermione said, more of a question than a suggestion. Harry agreed and knelt on one side of him, Hermione on the other.
Quietly, they both said Ron's name, until soon his eyes wrenched open. It appeared to be a difficult task on it's own.
"Ron…come on, get up," Harry waited. Ron was looking at him, but said nothing. He looked almost angry, but there was something else there, Harry could tell.
"You've got to get up Ron," Ron opened his mouth very slightly, but closed it again. Harry noticed that both he and Ron were breathing very hard now, though Ron's was a bit more ragged. He looked at Hermione, who's eyes were brimming with tears. She decided to give it a try.
"Ron, please, please get up! For me?" Ron looked at Hermione, and his face did seem to soften. But he shook his head. Well, it was a response at least.
"Are you hurt? Ron, answer me please!" There was more blank, cold, angry staring.
Something suddenly occurred to Harry, perhaps because he knew him so well, perhaps because he was just being logical.
"You need help, don't you?" The reaction he got was much different from what he would have thought. Ron looked right past Harry, sort of up at the sky. Harry looked at Hermione, a little afraid, not knowing what to do. Hermione seemed about in hysterics now, and Harry would have reached over to pat her comfortingly or something, except Ron had very suddenly grabbed his hand. His face hadn't changed, except his eyes were wider, angrier.
"Ron, hey! Do you need help?" A quick glance at Hermione, and Ron nodded. Not saying a word, the two helped pull Ron to an upright position.
It was very strange to both Harry and Hermione, as they walked with Ron back to the Burrow. Neither of them knew what had just happened, and for a second Harry felt he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Whatever it was must have been awful. But no, he needed to know. He wanted to help.
And besides, Ron was, or appeared to be, alright. For the rest of the night, anyways. That's what mattered.
None of them spoke all the way upstairs, and Ron said absolutely nothing as he lay down on his bed, fully dressed, but obviously not caring. Harry looked at Hermione, and whispered,
"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him. I don't know what happened tonight, but whatever it was can wait until tomorrow. He…he needs to rest, I think."
Hermione nodded and wiped her eyes. As an afterthought, Harry added,
"Maybe, if he doesn't start explaining things, we should write to Sirius or something. For help or advice, you know."
"Shouldn't we tell his parents, though?"
Harry thought about it. It certainly would be the logical thing to do, but still, Harry shook his head.
"I don't think we should worry them, at least not now. If…things get too bad, then we will. I just think we should give him the chance to…to…" Harry didn't know how to finish the sentence, but Hermione understood, and for once, she didn't argue.
"I guess your right. But if it does get bad, and Ron doesn't tell us anything, and even Sirius can't help, we're telling them, alright?" She may have been whispering, but she still managed to make it sound very fierce. He nodded.
Hermione opened the door, then turned to look at Ron.
"Goodnight," she said softly. After receiving no response, she left the room.
Harry walked over to the cot the Weasley's had set up for him earlier that day. There was two blankets folded neatly, placed in the middle, and a pillow as well. He fixed up the bed, and kicked open his trunk. As he was searching for his pajamas, he called softly, for no particular reason,
"Ron?" But Ron stayed silent. He tried again, then once more as he was changing, but Ron never answered. He went to the bed and threw a blanket over his best friend, then climbed into bed, and was left alone with his thoughts and the quiet.
