A/N: These characters aren't mine. Only the dreary plot. Me gusta reviews, by the way. So review, por favor!

Chapter Three: Repressed Memory

Ron shuddered with more subdued sobs that night, his face in his knees and his hand clasped over his mouth so he wouldn't wake Hermione. He had tried to shake the memory of that night the entire day, only to have it creep up on him when he least expected it. He was becoming more and more used to experiencing the memory, only to have it progress farther than it had ever gone; and it was terrible. Repressed parts of the memory began to creep up on him as he stood guard over Hermione.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, running over to the fallen form of his friend. Blood was matted in her hair, smeared across her alarmingly pale cheeks. Ron cradled her against his chest, carefully checking the back of her head, only to find a gushing wound.

Ron told himself not to panic, remembering what his mother used to say. 'Head wounds bleed a lot worse than others, so it seems worse than it really is,' he could hear her voice resounding in his already pounding head. But he still managed to panic at her shallow breaths and all of the blood that was staining his shirt, lifting his head to scream for other Order members. When no one came, he lifted her into his arms. Even though Ron had side-along apparated before with his parents, he had never been the one actually apparating, so his nerves increased considerably. He took a deep breath, and tried to remember the three D's. Determination, Distance, Defamation? No, that wasn't it. Dungbomb?

Ron managed to heave a small chuckle from his chest at the tiny amount of humor that managed to surface in such a terrible situation. Taking another deep breath, he attempted to apparate to St. Mungo's with Hermione.

Ron surprised himself when he managed to apparate right into the main lobby of St. Mungo's. What surprised him even more was that absolutely nobody paid any attention to the fact that he was holding an unconscious bleeding woman. He yelled for a doctor, only to have the receptionist point towards the sign that described all the floors. He snarled at her, which only elicited a huff and another point towards the sign.

Ron hurtled to the correct floor, almost slipping on one of the steps and taking both himself and Hermione down. After he righted himself, he yelled once again for a doctor, pleased with the response that he finally got. Hermione was rushed off with a doctor and Ron was left to slump down in a chair.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Weasley clan came barging into the hall, a frantic Mrs. Weasley leading the pack. "Ronald! Oh, Ronald, we couldn't find you! And then we came here because of Charlie—"

Ron stopped his mother's rant to inquire about his brother, only to find that he had been hit with the curse that Hermione had back when they went into the Department of Mysteries.

Hermione. The thought stopped his heart, and he frantically looked about for a doctor. He grabbed the first thing in a white robe he saw, which sadly, was a new nurse. After interrogating the terrified nurse and getting no answers, he stormed about, his mother in tow; the rest of the family was left to fall into chairs and finally rest.

Another nurse finally stopped the rampaging Ron, telling him that Hermione was stable, and that she was allowed one visitor. Ron went to her room without consulting with his mother, leaving the woman to huff about outside the door.

Ron nervously approached Hermione, who still looked pale. Ron was just happy she wasn't gushing blood anymore, and took a seat next to her bed. He let his fingers graze gently over the stiff bandage wrapped around her head, before dropping his hand to grab hers. He held up their interlocked hands, inspecting the way they seemed to fit together almost perfectly. The movement caused Hermione's eyes to flutter open, dazedly staring about the room for a few moments before settling on the fiery-haired boy holding her hand. She gave a light smile to him, which he returned, until a look of sheer panic fell over her face.

"Where's Harry! Is he alright, Ron!" Hermione practically shouted, trying to sit up too quickly, only to be brought back down into her laying position from the sheer pain that pulsed in her skull. She settled on looking apprehensively at her friend, who so far was stony faced and unreadable.

Tears started to fall silently down Ron's face without warning as he shook his head and whispered, "No, Hermione. Harry's not alright. He's d—" That was all he managed to get out, before he broke down completely, bawling and holding their still-interlocked hands against his forehead as he trembled.

It took a few moments for the true gravity of the situation to hit Hermione, but when it did, she gently pulled Ron up so he would sit on the bed next to her. When he complied without complaint, she pulled him down next to her, and held him as he sobbed, tears pooling in her own eyes, though she refused to let them fall. Hermione hesitated when Ron started to calm himself down, but asked the questions that were in her mind the entire time Ron was crying.

"Ron… Did you… Did you see him? Was he scared? What ha-happened to him, Ron?"

"I don't want to ever talk about it. I'm going to have to live with that image for the rest of my life, but you don't have to. You won't be burdened with it, I won't let you," Ron managed to sniffle. He rose from the bed, facing away from Hermione as if he was ashamed that she had seen him crying. He gave the hand that he still held a squeeze, before whispering, "Get some rest, Hermione."

Ron shuffled from the room, allowing his mother to go in and sit with Hermione. He knew he should probably go and check on his family, and go to see Charlie, but he couldn't leave Hermione unattended, unguarded, unprotected. Not with Voldemort still on the loose, and looking for blood. He leaned against the wall, realizing too late that his knees were too weak to hold him up any longer. Ron slid down the wall, crumpling into a ball just outside Hermione's room, the blackness that was threatening to overtake him finally clouding his vision.