A/N: Yet again, I am back with more of the fic… If you hadn't noticed I've been trying to keep my author's notes to a minimum. If you ask me I'm doing pretty good. I've had a little bit more time lately to work on this fic, as I take the notebook with me everywhere. Maybe I should work on All is Fair in Love and War. In due time… Maybe I'll work on it after I finish writing chapter 5 of this. Who knows? Anyway, carry on!

Chapter 3: Ignorance is Bliss

Ron sighed and wiped his face with his hands to keep himself from believing he was crying. Just the memory of Harry's death brought him to tears in an instant. What frustrated Ron more than ever was that all the memories of the war were too strong to erase. After Ron had drunken a whole entire bottle of Firewhisky he'd cast a very powerful Memory Modifying spell on himself. The spell worked successfully but only temporarily. He'd spent the night happily drinking, only vaguely wondering why Harry wasn't with him at the time making drunken statements such as "You know…I invented the question mark." But with every sip of alcohol Ron forgot what he had even come close to remembering. Eventually Ron had passed out on the floor drunk beyond reasonable comprehension.

It wasn't until next afternoon, when Ginny came to retrieve Ron that he had woken up. Immediately Ginny pulled him off of the floor, threw some Floo Powder into the fireplace, and shoved him into it. Ron, who was still a bit tipsy, giggled and slurred out,

"Where are we going, Gin?"

"Home," was all she said and with that, Ron was off.

Ginny and Molly Weasley quickly realized that Ron had wiped his memory when they saw him searching for parchment to write Harry. Mrs. Weasley had burst into tears and Ginny confused Ron by calling him a "coward afraid of the truth."

"Ginny! Mum!" Ron remembered saying. "I'm sorry! I'm truly sorry for erasing my memory but will someone fill me in on what's going on? And what's wrong with Harry?"

"Not just Harry," Mrs. Weasley sobbed, "but Hermione as well. Harry just isn't suffering."

Ron had begun to panic then. How stupid ad he been? How bad were things now? Why was his mum crying and Ginny angry with him? Did he really want to remember what he'd succeeded in forgetting? Ginny handed Ron a piece of parchment that he had scribbled writing on it. It looked like directions to somewhere.

"Do you even remember where this is?" Ginny fumed. "Or why it's important?"

Ron unrolled the parchment a bit more and discovered a map. No matter how hard he had tried to gather any memory that night, he'd still felt like he was seeing it for the first time.

"I'm sorry," Ron said quietly.

Ginny rolled the paper back up and pointed at the writing.

"Go…before it hurts too much to explain."

Ron was uneasy. What's going on? He looked at the writing.

Floo: Cherry Hill

Password: Peril

Open Ground

"The password is no longer needed," Ginny said. "It's over."

Ron recalled throwing Floo Powder into the fireplace and seeing his sister and mother's face before disappearing in the flames.

Ron had landed in a small shed, which seemed to be damn near burned to the ground, save for the fireplace. He tentatively stepped out when a heavy stench filled his nose; the smell of death and rot. Even though a voice in his head was screaming, "Go back now, you fool!" he took a few more steps forward out of the shed, feeling as if a puzzle in his mind was slowly piecing itself together with every movement he made.

The sight around Ron almost made him vomit. Dead bodies, blood, and Dark Marks were everywhere.

"The War," he'd whispered to himself.

Horrible flashes of memory were pulling at Ron's brain now. Blood splattering everywhere, screaming, explosions, and that nasty cackle that could only belong to one person, if you could call him that.

The weather seemed to have been responding to Ron's emotions. Dark clouds pulled together and blocked out the sky. Thunder rolled and forks of lightening struck the ground, igniting fires that had blown out overnight. Ron had begun to run down the hill in the downpour of rain that started.

Scars that Ron had seen but not recognized earlier seemed to rewind themselves into wounds and bleed freely on Ron's face, arms, legs, and anywhere else he had been injured. Ron gasped at the pain as he was running. Then suddenly he stopped and stood in the middle of all the destruction. That's when he had seen the pair of glasses the Great Harry Potter had once worn on his face.

That's how Ron ended up here, crying and hung over in his old bedroom at the Burrow. The rest of the Weasley family, with the exception of Percy who had been murdered, was back at the Burrow with hopes of approaching Ron when he wasn't too drunk. No such luck for any of them. When Mister or Mrs. Weasley came to his room, he hexed them both into St. Mungo's overnight. When they came back the next day Bill & Charlie, then Fred & George tried to force Ron out of his room only to be burned whenever they attempted to touch him.

What saddened the Weasleys is that Ron didn't recognize any of them. The third day Ginny could see that if they did nothing Ron would surely die. Everyone tried to coax her out of going into his room but she accused them of killing off one of their own, using guilt as a weapon.

Ginny marched up the stairs with a large plastic bag. When she opened the door to Ron's bedroom, it was dark as night even thought it was only about midday. Ginny waved her hand and the lamp emitted enough light to see Ron sprawled out on the floor surrounded by liquor bottles, broken and whole. Judging by his closed eyes and slow, guttural snores, Ginny knew he was passed out again. She looked at Ron sadly and sighed.

"Oh, Ron," Ginny whispered as she began to pick up the bottles and tidy up his room, despite the voice that sounded like her mother 'You're going to need to take it easy for a while.' She was in the middle of changing the bed sheets when she heard Ron's voice moan,

"Hermione?"

Ginny's heart broke when she heard the emotion, however drunk it may be, and loneliness in Ron's voice. She was silent for a moment when Ron called more desperately.

"'Mione?"

Ginny came around the bed and knelt beside Ron. He was staring dully up at the ceiling, and his eyes were clearly blurred by drunkenness and unshed tears.

"No, Ron," Ginny said. "It's Ginny."

Ron tried to sit up but he was too weak. Ginny pulled him up to lay on his bed.

"Better?" Ginny asked.

"Mmhmm," Ron mumbled.

She smiled and Ron's face held a trace of a weak smile and he slurred, "Ginny, Ginny, Gingerhair, color of carrot, that I swear." Ginny laughed quietly at the rhyme her mum sung to her when she was little. But then always came the big-brother version.

"Some girls are pretty, Ginny's just fair. She'll hex you to Wednesday if she finds out you stare. She's got long front teeth just like a rabbit, she even has a dirty little habit."

"Ron that's enough," Ginny said.

"Yes, yes it is." Ron seemed to be sobering just a bit. Then his eyes swept down to Ginny's belly, which poked out more than it usually would after eating.

"Holy shit…are you, do you, oh fuck it." Ron finally gave up on trying to sort out the words in his head.

Ginny looked away and began to stand up when Ron touched her arm, too weak to grab it. Ron's eyebrows furrowed and he attempted to talk again.

"You're, you…are…" Ron waved his hand as if trying to waft the word toward him. "—baby," he finally blurted out.

"Listen, Ron. I don't want to talk about it. I'll tell you another time, I promise."

Ron seemed to be pulling fragments of self together in his brain. He screwed up his face and then asked, "Where's 'Mione?" More silence.

"In St. Mungo's, Ron. In a coma, we don't know for sure if she's going to live or not. We don't know what caused it."

A flicker of sadness or fear, Ginny couldn't ell, passed Ron's vacant eyes. He then gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed and stumbled towards the open door. Ginny remained where she was, staring at the floor. She was afraid that something she might say would trigger a drunk, angry Ron and she had no intention of doing so. Ron leaned heavily on the door for a few seconds and then made his way slowly down the hall and down the stairs. He was halfway down the stairs when he saw his family peering up at him anxiously. His head spun and his vision clouded. Ron swayed on his feet and was about to fall when Bill, Charlie, George and Fred all rushed forward and helped him down the rest of the stairs. Once at the end, they sat him on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

"You alright there, mate?" Fred asked softly.

Ron shook his head slowly and turned pale. "He's gonna be sick," said Charlie urgently.

"Watch it," said Mr. Weasley as he conjured a pail and thrust it in front of Ron.

Ron grabbed it and vomited into it. His body started to shake and he took sharp, ragged breaths before he lurched forward and vomited again while Bill and George held his shaggy hair back from assault. Ginny emerged from upstairs and came to rub Ron's back soothingly. Ron finally looked up with wide, bloodshot eyes. He pushed the pail away and leaned back heavily against Ginny's legs.

"He's going to have to go to St. Mungo's," Mr. Weasley stated.

"Not now, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "Let him lay down and rest for a while. Boys, can you take him into the living room please?"

Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie lifted Ron, who was now a sickly-looking, sweating, shaking, and pale figure now, and carried him into the living room. They set him down on the couch and sat around him.

"I'll get him a glass of water," said Ginny as she got up.

"Get one for yourself too, Ginny," replied Mrs. Weasley said in a voice that meant her words required no argument.

Mrs. Weasley leaned forward and enveloped Ron in a hug. He immediately burst into tears, sobbing against his mother's shoulder.

"There there, Ronald," cooed Mrs. Weasley, "Everything's going to be alright."

"No, no," Ron moaned. "Harry's dead. He's gone. Hermione's hurt, hurt bad. And look, look at me, mum. I fucked up, I fucked up bad, more than you know. What if Hermione doesn't wake up? It'll be all my fault and she'll never forgive me for what I did. Never in a million years would I even forgive myself."

Mrs. Weasley hugged Ron even tighter as he cried. She didn't know what Ron had done but she knew he wasn't in any condition to go into hysterics over it. Mr. Weasley came over to his wife and son and touched Ron's face gently. It was a simple gesture that Mr. Weasley had perfected over the course of fatherhood and it calmed Ron down.

"Ron," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "We're going to take you to St. Mungo's, alright?"

Ron nodded feebly as he had run out of energy to do anything else.

"Ginny, you Floo first and wait for us to get there. Fred and George, help me get Ron into the fireplace. Bill, Charlie, you two are going to Apparate with your mother."

Everyone nodded and stood up. Ginny threw some Floo powder into the fireplace and watched as the great green flames erupted. She carefully stepped in and yelled out, "ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES!" and she disappeared from sight.

Weasley turned to Fred & George wearily. "Okay, boys. Let's get Ron out of here."

A/N: OMG finally! It took me forever to finish typing this chapter…It didn't take me as long to handwrite it though. Interesting. Anyway, I believe this was a more acceptable length for this chapter than the first two dontcha think? Yes, yes. Nod your head. If you want to see chapter 4 you're going to have to review HARD. Because I'm not exactly finished writing chapter four yet. I'm unsure of how to end it. Ick, I always have this problem.

REVIEW LIKE CRAZY IF YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE CHAPTER 4!

Please notify me of any mistakes in your reviews…ThAnK yOu!

Witchangel