Chapter Seven - The Recovery Position

Ron felt warm and then cold before shifting in his sleep and finding himself at a comfortable temperature again. There was a hand on him, he didn't want to get up just yet, he was comfortable.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled as he turned over.

An agonising slither of pain shot through the centre of his head and his cheekbone and eye on that side of his face felt three times the size they should be and incredibly sensitive.

"Ow!"

He hauled himself up on what appeared to be a sofa and tried to take in his surroundings through the bleary eye that blinked in the morning light and the other eye which was almost swollen shut. He struggled to remember what happened to him and where he was.

"Where the hell...?" he began before remembering he was in big trouble and he jumped up off the sofa and onto his feet, which hurt him more than he could ever have expressed, searching himself for his wand, "Where the hell...?" he said again, his tone now much more urgent.

"Looking for this?" George's voice said as he held up Ron's wand.

Ron stared at him, before remembering how he had originally been woken that morning. Ron's eyes darted from left to right rapidly, looking for the cup and hoping it had just been a bad dream.

"Where's the...?" again he didn't manage to complete his sentence as Fred held up Hufflepuff's cup.

"The thing you apparently stole from Gringotts last night, is that what you're looking for?" Fred asked while George stood at his side and folded his arms in that way that made him look as solid as a brick wall.

Ron saw that Harry and Hermione at his side and felt thankful that he was at least back in their company again before shuddering.

"I didn't did I?"

Hermione rubbed her hand up and down Ron's arm, he looked down at his arms to see the dreadful bruises that covered them, and he grimaced at the punishment his poor arms had taken over the last couple of years, the only thing that stood out from the grazes and bruising were the scars from the brain attack at the ministry.

"We don't know what happened," Hermione sighed, not seeming to realise that she was causing him great discomfort by touching him like that.

"How did you get hurt?" Harry asked, blatantly noticing every little injury on his body and looking a little queasily at his swollen eye.

Ron took another look at his bruises and then at his feet which were in the most dreadful state and shrugged.

"What is going on?" George demanded.

Ron was about to begin weaving an improvised cover story to his brother when Hermione pushed him back onto the sofa, causing his ribs to ache painfully and Ron to wonder if she had learnt her bedside manner from Grawp, and began to magically treat Ron's injuries. Harry seemed to have decided to give the twins an edited version of the truth and Ron was too busy watching Hermione with scepticism as she aimed her wand directly into his face and set about trying to reduce the swelling in his eye.

Fred sat down and stared at the cup in his hands.

"So you're saying that if you destroy this cup You-Know-Who gets a little bit weaker?"

Harry nodded.

"Well destruction is our middle name," George said as he disappeared off into another room.

"Fred," Ron winced, Hermione was trying to pull his swollen eye open to check his retina so she said, though it felt as if she was just making things worse, "do you get the Daily Prophet delivered?"

"We do little bro, we do indeed," Fred nodded as he sat forward in his chair, "why do you ask? Afraid you'll see your face on the front page?"

Ron's stomach flipped at that thought, all he wanted to do was find out if the break-in at Gringotts was newsworthy but now he realised that it was probably the talk of the wizarding world and he was probably the most wanted wizard in the country after the dark lord himself.

"Well I wasn't until you just said that," Hermione was attempting a swish and flick motion in order to send a spell into Ron's swollen eye but all she had managed to do was send the tip of her wand into it instead, "Ouch, Hermione!"

Hermione huffed and lifted her hands away from Ron's face, dropping them into her lap in annoyance, and stared into his battered face with impatience and sadness.

"I'm just trying to help you Ron, don't be such a baby."

"You were poking me in the bloody eye!"

"Now now Ronniekins, be a good little soldier for nurse Hermione or we'll call in matron mum to heal you," George teased as he re entered the room carrying a large block of stone with a deep indentation all the way around the top of it.

Oh Godric, I can only imagine the look on mum's face if she saw me like this, she babies me when I've got a tiny little shiner so She'd go off her nut if she saw me with a head like a rotting pumpkin!

"Don't you threaten me with mum," Ron snapped at his evil brother.

Fred was grinning wickedly.

"Oh how we'd love to see you squirm little brother," his mirth seemed to dissipate rather quickly as he spoke, "but I wouldn't want to mention your name and sleepwalking in the same sentence to her for all the galleons in Gringotts."

George gave a derisive snort to break the tension.

"The ones you left in there after your 'raid' last night at least."

Great so the twins knew that he was sleepwalking again too, although that much would be pretty obvious to even a total moron, and he hoped they were serious about keeping it from their mum. She would be a woman possessed if she knew it was happening again.

"Oh you're funny, both of you, I could listen to you for hours," Ron said while Hermione surreptitiously sent a couple more healing charms into his face, working on his blind side in the hope he wouldn't be able to tell what she was up to.

"Look Ron," Harry began, "I know you're going to tell me you don't but I have to ask you anyway. Do you remember anything at all?"

"Nothing. Did I talk before I left?"

Harry and Hermione shared a glance before Harry nodded.

"Yeah, a bit."

"What did I say, anything interesting?" Ron wasn't sure that he really wanted to know the answer to this but at the same time he wanted to find out if he had been as reluctant as he had when whoever it was had taken him to Borgin's place.

"Nothing that made any sense, it was only one half of a conversation mate," Harry shrugged.

Ron slouched and noticed that Hermione had tensed up and seemed to be scowling at Harry. Then she remembered that she was attempting to treat his eye, which had started to go down quite a lot surprisingly, and Ron found that he could actually see quite a bit more out of it now. It did feel as if it was bulging an inch or so out of his skull though and he put his hand up to his face to feel the contours of his tender side.

"So what's with the brick then George?" Ron asked as Hermione pulled his hand away and finished off her treatment of his eye with somewhat more confidence than she had started the job.

"This brick, as you so ignorantly put it," George said, "is a chest."

"Carved out of stone from Pevensy Bay and naturally hinged, making it ideal for the incineration of magical objects." Fred nodded.

"Um, will it destroy any magical enchantments when it destroys the actual object then?" Harry was trying to sound nonchalant.

"It'll destroy anything you put in it no matter how magical the protection spell put upon it," George said proudly.

"And no matter what might be secretly hidden inside...for example," Fred smirked as he opened the lid of the stone trunk.

George took the cup and placed it inside the stone trunk. Fred closed the lid and nodded to George who withdrew his wand and tapped the top of the trunk three times.

"Aboleo, nusquam esse, absisto!"

The sound of a raging fire came from the chest as it violently shook in Fred's hands before smoke pushed out of the indentation where the lid rested.

"There, all gone."

Fred handed the trunk to George who turned to return it to wherever it was he had got it from. As he did he winced at Ron's mangled feet and pulled out a small green bottle from his back pocket.

"Ron you're feet are putting me off having breakfast, go to the bathroom and soak them in some hot water with a capful of this will you?"

Ron eyed the bottle he had just been handed with great suspicion, this was no time for pranks but he knew that the twins sometimes had a warped sense of humour and a poor sense of timing.

"Alright but if this stuff makes my feet swell up to five times their normal size I'm going to use them to kick your arses!" he warned them.

George chuckled as he left the room with the trunk in his arms. Ron struggled to his feet, declining Hermione's attempt to help, and hobbled across the room towards the bathroom. It felt as if he was walking over a scalding hot soup of broken glass and stinging nettles and every step he took hurt him in a whole new place. He hissed as some of the scabs broke open on the soles of his feet and struggled not to whimper like a total girl. As soon as he closed the bathroom door he turned on the hot tap and let the thunderous echo of the running water in the twin's bathroom drown out his cry of pain as he leant against the door and slid down it. He lifted his feet off the floor and rested them up on the side of the bathtub.

He couldn't believe how hard he had to fight against the tears that threatened to flow. He was ok, he had found Harry another horcrux, and he might even have got away with it. He hoped that he had. Azkaban would kill him within the day. That did it, a tear escaped from Ron's swollen tear duct; it's hard to hold back a tear from an eye that is weeping in the first place. He sniffed and wiped his face, the sore side of his face, and yelped again.

"Oh pull yourself together you bloody wimp!" he growled at himself.

He changed his demeanour to that of a hardened soldier, not fazed by anything, and leaned forward to pour some of the solution from the little green bottle into the bath tub, which was now a few inches full. He gritted his teeth and put his weight back on his feet without a sound, sitting on the edge of the tub and leaning to turn off the tap, before swivelling and lowering his feet into the shallow green tinted water.

The sensation was bizarre.

His feet were burning with painful intensity while being satisfying soothed. Open wounds were closing and sealing, which was good, but the movement of his skin as it rapidly healed was a form of mini torture, which was very bad. Ron grimaced and hissed and flinched while wriggling his toes and feeling a sense of relief at last. It was almost as if he was eating something he really loved, like chocolate, only to find that there were pins hidden within it but not being able to stop chewing because the chocolate just tasted so good. His feet felt so much better but he had to go through the pain of the rapid healing in order to get there.

The sores and cuts still looked dreadful but the pain was now entirely gone and Ron lifted his red patchy feet out of the blue steaming water and shook them off before biting his bottom lip and standing on them with his full weight. He exhaled and smiled, they felt great.

He pulled the plug and watched the water drain away before picking up the tiny bottle and opening the bathroom door to rejoin the others.

"You know I've got to say you two have impressed me with this," Ron said as he handed George back the green bottle, "I mean they still look a bit raw but they feel great. Ever thought of doing business with St Mungos?"

The twins were staring at Ron and he stared right back at them, waiting for an answer to his question that never came. It was then that he realised that everybody had become very sombre in his absence. He looked down to Hermione, who was sitting on the sofa with her head down, and he wondered exactly what kind of a conversation he had been missing.

"What?" Ron looked down at himself and then felt his face before glaring at the twins, "What did that bloody stuff do to me? If I've turned green or something I swear I'll..."

"You're exactly the colour you're supposed to be Ron, we were just talking about how dreadful the Cannons are this season and didn't want to offend you," Harry lied quite obviously.

Hermione glared at Harry again, they always seemed to be angry with each other recently Ron thought, before getting to her feet and walking over to him and taking his hands in hers.

"Ron there's something I think you should know," she began.

She didn't get any further than that because of the post owl that swooped into the flat and landed on the table beside Ron with some letters for the twins and that morning's Daily Prophet. All thought's of Hermione's revelation vanished and his need to see just how his night time activities had been reported to the rest of wizard-kind took him over.

"Oh great the Prophet's here," Ron said as he grabbed the Prophet and shook it open with fear that he might just see his own face staring back at him.

He didn't see his face. H e didn't see his name. He didn't seem to have been caught. He appeared to have got away with it. He wasn't relieved at this news and he wasn't the least bit happy either. In fact he felt as if he was going to drop to his knees and be violently sick for several hours until he managed to turn his entire body inside out just by retching.

He felt himself shaking and he knew they were all waiting for him to tell them the good news, the news that he had got away with the crime of the century, but he just saw one word.

Imperius.

He had used an unforgivable curse. He had used an unforgivable curse in his sleep. He was officially dangerous now. He was only a short step away from becoming a subconscious murderer. He would never be able to sleep again. He wondered if they all knew and that had been why they were all so weird when he came out of the bathroom. He lowered the newspaper and looked at Hermione who shook off Harry's hand, he had obviously been holding her back while Ron read, and took a step towards him. Ron looked over at the twins who seemed to be getting up from their seat as if they were joined at the hip and he shook his head and took a step backwards. They were all about to tell him everything was going to be fine but it wouldn't, nothing would be fine ever again.

"I couldn't have done this," Ron heard himself say as he shook the paper before him; "it's not possible. I didn't do this. I didn't do it. It wasn't me."

Ron looked at the paper and waited the proof that he had done it out of his hand and out of his life as quickly as possible. He felt his body trying to make him vomit but he hadn't eaten yet so there was nothing for him to give and he tried to gulp down the mini convulsion within him.

Fred took a step toward him and spoke in the same way he had after Ginny had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets, as if he was borrowing the voice of a much warmer and considerably more subdued person.

"It wasn't you, you're absolutely right about that Ron, whatever happened last night it wasn't you. We know that."

Ron looked back down at the paper that was shaking in his hands itself now and he feared that his legs weren't going to be able to hold him up much longer. He was going to fall.

"That's...That much power, I shouldn't be able...I couldn't do that, it's not possible," the paper had to be lying Ron told himself, he wasn't that good a wizard to have pulled something like that off.

Hermione bundled Fred aside and tore the paper from Ron's hands. She thrust it into Fred's and threw her arms around Ron's neck, hugging him tightly, Ron wanted to cling to her and draw strength from her but he couldn't bear to infect anybody with his touch. He was out of control and he was dangerous. He would end up hurting her and he couldn't let that happen.

"I don't care what the paper says happened in Gringotts last night because you weren't at Gringotts last night," Hermione said firmly as she gripped Ron even tighter, "you're right Ron, it was somebody else who left us in that cave. It was somebody else who dumped you on Fred and George's doorstep this morning. Whatever happened, had nothing to do with you do you hear me?"

She pulled away and forced him to look her in the eyes, Ron couldn't speak, and Ron felt his heart ache as he realised that he had to spare Hermione all the hurt he would inevitably cause her. She seemed to get cross with him for not being able to shrug this off and boldly join in with the, anything Ron does in his sleep isn't Ron's fault, sentiment and shook him quite roughly.

"I said do you hear me Ron?"

Ron shook his head. He hadn't really been listening to her; he was watching Fred passing George the newspaper and sinking back into his armchair with a mortified look on his face. That was the reaction Ron was looking for, that was the honest reaction to these events, Fred realised the truth for what it was. Ron was a danger to them all and soon to be a wanted man. He had to have been seen, they had to be searching for him right now, and his life as he knew it was over.

"I can't trust myself to be around you, either of you, not anymore," he explained to Hermione, she had to accept the truth.

"Rubbish!" Hermione snapped.

Harry ripped the Prophet from George's hands and read the offending article for himself while George fell back against the wall. So that was it, the twins were both terrified of him; he had lost the both of them. George suddenly took a deep breath and grabbed Ron out of Hermione's arms, pulling him into a hug of his own. Ron was startled by this and stiffened with shock.

"Bollocks Ron, I trust you with my life and don't you forget it."

Well that had been unexpected. Yet again his siblings he thought he knew so well managed to surprise him. Ron pulled away from his brother and ran his hand through his hair. George being the one to have said that in particular meant everything to Ron as he had already been on the receiving end of Ron's propensity to be violent while asleep.

"I've already hit you when I was like that," Ron scoffed as he began to pace up and down; he suddenly felt an extra wave of gratitude for his pain free feet as he did this.

Fred got back up again.

"Oh come off it, you can't blame yourself for that, you were just a kid."

"It wasn't you!" George said to Ron, sounding quite angry with him for not understanding what they were saying to him.

Didn't they get the magnitude of this? Didn't they read the fine print? Didn't they see how much power he had been using, how many people he could have hurt?

"Goblins and powerful enchantments and aurors guys, aurors! I...I...all of 'em!"

"Stop it, stop it all of you!" Hermione screamed.

Ron froze on the spot, Fred and George were silenced just as they were both about to express their joint opinion of Ron's idiocy, and Hermione stood with her arms in the air just as she had been standing to let out her scream. Harry carefully folded the paper and set it down on the table.

Ron looked down at himself and saw the dried blood that stained his clothing, blood that the twins told him hadn't been his own, somebody had been badly hurt last night and it seemed that it was at his hands. He leaned against the wall and slid down it, his head dropping into his hands.

"I'm going to go to Azkaban for this."