Author's notes: My apologies for not indicating whether this story is going to continue or not. I think this probably has a few more chapters in it after this one. I'll try to update regularly. Thanks for reading. :)
***
Winter came on hard and fast. It seeped into everything. There was ice in every stone and a sneer in every eye. Ron found himself ducking into darkened nooks and the library more often than his old self would have ever thought possible. Anything to avoid the questions. The tricks, the jeers. The sophisticated terrorizing. Anything to avoid thinking about his family. He tried reading, but it all ultimately led back to something Ginny had loved, something Fred or George had been bored by, something his mother had scolded him about.
Sometimes Hermione would sit with him, looking up curses and enchanted anomalies that might explain his shift in reality.
"You really ought to see Dumbledore about this, he's sure to know what's going on . . ." Hermione insisted, slamming a book shut and causing a puff of dust to rise into the air.
"He'll think I'm mad," Ron grunted, his nose in his sleeve.
Hermione glared at him, her face turning redder with every second. "Instead you'll just let yourself get killed at the next challenge? How stupid are you!"
Ron's face lifted from his arms and he blinked at her. A small smile ran across his face. "Now that's the Hermione I know."
Hermione flushed furiously and looked away from him. "I don't know why I bother worrying about you, you'll do whatever you . . ."
"Whatever I?" Ron prodded before noticing Hermione's change of focus. Draco Malfoy was grinning down at them snootily, his arms crossed over his chest.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron sighed, resigned to another miserable day.
"Not everything in the world is about the infamous Boy Who Lived, believe it or not." Draco drawled, eyes flickering with amusement. "I'm here to talk with Hermione."
Ron's eyes widened in outrage. "Leave her alone, I'm warning you! If you try to hurt her in any way I swear to god I'll kill you!"
Draco blinked, amazed. "Two words, Weasley. Psychiatric Evaluation." The blond Slytherin turned his attention back to Hermione. "Can I borrow your Potions notes? I fell asleep."
Ron was horrified to note a darker blush creeping up into Hermione's face as she . . . giggled?
"Only you could get away with that in Snape's class. Um, sure. That's no problem."
She fished around in her heaps of books and scrolls, finally extracting some papers and passing them to him.
"Thank-you," Draco bowed faintly, casually shambling out of the library with the notes tucked under his arm and ignoring the venomous glare Ron was throwing at his back.
"Now what was that all about?" Hermione hissed. "Do you want even more problems for us? Draco is one of your few defenders!"
If Ron's eyes were capable of falling out of his head they would have done so at that very moment. "What? All he's ever been is a bloody nuisance!"
Hermione bit her lower lip hard in frustration. "He's a bit spoiled, sure . . . but he's never been anything but decent towards me."
"He's using you. Does he get you to do his homework for him, too?"
Hermione pouted and hunched into herself. "At least he's always acknowledged my existence. Which is more than I can say for you or anyone else here up until recently," she spat. Ron couldn't stand the sound of spite in her voice.
"Look, Hermione, I'm not the same Ron - "
"I know, I know. That much is obvious. Let's just drop it."
Ron hesitated and then nodded, closing his eyes and slouching forward to rest his head on the table. He finally allowed his memories to prove Hermione's claim. Draco Malfoy was not one of his tormentors. Ron hadn't noticed earlier because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had picked up whatever slack Slytherin had left in the ritual torturing of outcasts. For some reason the truth that should have been a pleasant revelation instead left him feeling queasy. He sighed and pushed his face into the crook of his elbow, letting the partial blockage of air lull him into slumber.
"Wake up, Ron," a gentle shake.
"Mum?"
"Yes. You were having a nightmare, love. You woke up just about everyone with the racket."
Long lost tears finally found their way into Ron's eyes as he stared up into his mother's soft face. "Oh God. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Woah, it's not that big a deal. I had to go to the john anyway!" Fred offered from the bedroom door.
Feathers brushed at Ron's cheek as Pigwidgeon offered some concerned hoots and snuggled into his face. He was even grateful for his most annoying owl. His Cannons posters. Having everything he had taken for granted back was like a miracle. Or some cheesy Muggle movie. Whatever. Ron's heart felt about ready to rupture with happiness.
"What was your nightmare?" Mrs Weasley inquired.
"It was just awful. Vol-You-Know-Who had killed all of you and I was the . . ."
"Boy Who Lived?" came a sleepy voice from across the room.
"Harry?"
Harry yawned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes before poking around for his glasses and sliding them onto his nose."Who else?"
"I sure am glad to see you."
Harry smiled dismally and stood, stalking over and scooting in next to Mrs Weasley. But when had Harry gotten so tall? And old?
Ron scrunched up his face in confusion. "Harry? You look all grown up!"
Harry raised his eyebrows comfortingly. "Yeah, I do. But everything's going to be fine, Ron."
"RON! Would you wake up already? You sound like you're suffocating yourself!"
Ron blinked blearily and raised his head from his arms. "Huh?"
"Thanks to you we're getting kicked out of the library!" Hermione whispered furiously, as if no greater tragedy had occurred since man walked upright. It was all Ron could handle just to stumble to his feet.
"That was just . . . cruel," he breathed as they tottered through the halls.
"I know!" Hermione groused. "How are we supposed to get our homework done in the common room. Honestly!"
Ron said nothing. He fell to his knees and retched instead. Hermione gasped and promptly dug out a handkerchief from underneath her robe and passed it to him. Ron sat back on his heels, flushed and dizzy. He wiped at his lips with the handkerchief and whispered a strained thanks. Hermione's bottom lip started to wobble in a curious way.
"Your dream?" She was trembling.
Ron ran his tongue around his teeth. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans weren't very accurate after all.
"My curse," Ron said finally.
***
Winter came on hard and fast. It seeped into everything. There was ice in every stone and a sneer in every eye. Ron found himself ducking into darkened nooks and the library more often than his old self would have ever thought possible. Anything to avoid the questions. The tricks, the jeers. The sophisticated terrorizing. Anything to avoid thinking about his family. He tried reading, but it all ultimately led back to something Ginny had loved, something Fred or George had been bored by, something his mother had scolded him about.
Sometimes Hermione would sit with him, looking up curses and enchanted anomalies that might explain his shift in reality.
"You really ought to see Dumbledore about this, he's sure to know what's going on . . ." Hermione insisted, slamming a book shut and causing a puff of dust to rise into the air.
"He'll think I'm mad," Ron grunted, his nose in his sleeve.
Hermione glared at him, her face turning redder with every second. "Instead you'll just let yourself get killed at the next challenge? How stupid are you!"
Ron's face lifted from his arms and he blinked at her. A small smile ran across his face. "Now that's the Hermione I know."
Hermione flushed furiously and looked away from him. "I don't know why I bother worrying about you, you'll do whatever you . . ."
"Whatever I?" Ron prodded before noticing Hermione's change of focus. Draco Malfoy was grinning down at them snootily, his arms crossed over his chest.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron sighed, resigned to another miserable day.
"Not everything in the world is about the infamous Boy Who Lived, believe it or not." Draco drawled, eyes flickering with amusement. "I'm here to talk with Hermione."
Ron's eyes widened in outrage. "Leave her alone, I'm warning you! If you try to hurt her in any way I swear to god I'll kill you!"
Draco blinked, amazed. "Two words, Weasley. Psychiatric Evaluation." The blond Slytherin turned his attention back to Hermione. "Can I borrow your Potions notes? I fell asleep."
Ron was horrified to note a darker blush creeping up into Hermione's face as she . . . giggled?
"Only you could get away with that in Snape's class. Um, sure. That's no problem."
She fished around in her heaps of books and scrolls, finally extracting some papers and passing them to him.
"Thank-you," Draco bowed faintly, casually shambling out of the library with the notes tucked under his arm and ignoring the venomous glare Ron was throwing at his back.
"Now what was that all about?" Hermione hissed. "Do you want even more problems for us? Draco is one of your few defenders!"
If Ron's eyes were capable of falling out of his head they would have done so at that very moment. "What? All he's ever been is a bloody nuisance!"
Hermione bit her lower lip hard in frustration. "He's a bit spoiled, sure . . . but he's never been anything but decent towards me."
"He's using you. Does he get you to do his homework for him, too?"
Hermione pouted and hunched into herself. "At least he's always acknowledged my existence. Which is more than I can say for you or anyone else here up until recently," she spat. Ron couldn't stand the sound of spite in her voice.
"Look, Hermione, I'm not the same Ron - "
"I know, I know. That much is obvious. Let's just drop it."
Ron hesitated and then nodded, closing his eyes and slouching forward to rest his head on the table. He finally allowed his memories to prove Hermione's claim. Draco Malfoy was not one of his tormentors. Ron hadn't noticed earlier because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had picked up whatever slack Slytherin had left in the ritual torturing of outcasts. For some reason the truth that should have been a pleasant revelation instead left him feeling queasy. He sighed and pushed his face into the crook of his elbow, letting the partial blockage of air lull him into slumber.
"Wake up, Ron," a gentle shake.
"Mum?"
"Yes. You were having a nightmare, love. You woke up just about everyone with the racket."
Long lost tears finally found their way into Ron's eyes as he stared up into his mother's soft face. "Oh God. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Woah, it's not that big a deal. I had to go to the john anyway!" Fred offered from the bedroom door.
Feathers brushed at Ron's cheek as Pigwidgeon offered some concerned hoots and snuggled into his face. He was even grateful for his most annoying owl. His Cannons posters. Having everything he had taken for granted back was like a miracle. Or some cheesy Muggle movie. Whatever. Ron's heart felt about ready to rupture with happiness.
"What was your nightmare?" Mrs Weasley inquired.
"It was just awful. Vol-You-Know-Who had killed all of you and I was the . . ."
"Boy Who Lived?" came a sleepy voice from across the room.
"Harry?"
Harry yawned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes before poking around for his glasses and sliding them onto his nose."Who else?"
"I sure am glad to see you."
Harry smiled dismally and stood, stalking over and scooting in next to Mrs Weasley. But when had Harry gotten so tall? And old?
Ron scrunched up his face in confusion. "Harry? You look all grown up!"
Harry raised his eyebrows comfortingly. "Yeah, I do. But everything's going to be fine, Ron."
"RON! Would you wake up already? You sound like you're suffocating yourself!"
Ron blinked blearily and raised his head from his arms. "Huh?"
"Thanks to you we're getting kicked out of the library!" Hermione whispered furiously, as if no greater tragedy had occurred since man walked upright. It was all Ron could handle just to stumble to his feet.
"That was just . . . cruel," he breathed as they tottered through the halls.
"I know!" Hermione groused. "How are we supposed to get our homework done in the common room. Honestly!"
Ron said nothing. He fell to his knees and retched instead. Hermione gasped and promptly dug out a handkerchief from underneath her robe and passed it to him. Ron sat back on his heels, flushed and dizzy. He wiped at his lips with the handkerchief and whispered a strained thanks. Hermione's bottom lip started to wobble in a curious way.
"Your dream?" She was trembling.
Ron ran his tongue around his teeth. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans weren't very accurate after all.
"My curse," Ron said finally.
