Chapter Eleven - Food For Thought
Ron had actually managed to hit the ground running this time. He was almost out the door when Fred tackled him and the two of them went crashing to the ground, knocking over a messy stack of Chudley Cannons match programmes and smashing an empty water jug that had been balanced on the top of them.
"Ron stop thrashing about will you," Fred barked as he tried to restrain his little brother from throwing wild aimless punches into thin air, "you're awake, you're home and you're safe alright?"
Ron was panting heavily and seemed to come to his senses a little more now, despite continuing to squirm quite frantically in his brother's grasp.
"Get off me!"
"I'll let you go if you promise to calm down ok?" Fred insisted, pinning Ron down a little harder.
He knew that this was the worst thing he could be doing right now but he and George had tried almost every other tactic during the night and none of them had worked. Harry and Hermione had gone to check out the grave Ron had been trapped inside in the cold light of day and Fred was on nightmare duty while George opened the shop. He had explained this to Ron about three times already but each time he woke up again it was with a sense of bewilderment at Fred's presence in his bedroom.
"Fred you're crushing me," Ron pleaded.
That was almost enough to make Fred let him go but he set his features into a look of fresh determination and held firm.
"No I'm not, I'm just holding you Ron, you know that. You can trust me."
"Since bloody when?" Ron shouted into his face and Fred actually let out a laugh.
He let his brother go and watched as Ron wriggled away from him and tried to calm himself down, he was still breathing as if he had just run a mile.
"You've got a point there."
Fred turned his attention to the fragments of glass that were strewn all over the bedroom floor and cast a warning glance back over to his barefoot brother.
"Don't move for a minute alright? Reparo!"
The jug put itself back together and Fred picked it up and got to his feet. Ron looked up at him and wondered if he was going to ambush him with the sleeping spell while he wasn't looking. Fred smiled and extended his arm towards his brother.
"Come on little bro, let's call it morning and go downstairs and get you some breakfast eh?"
Ron got to his feet without taking his brother's hand and hugged his arms to himself.
"What time is it?"
"It's just gone six, I know that's what most people call morning but we're Weasleys and we know better don't we? Six o'clock in the morning is the middle of the night for us," Fred grinned.
Ron shivered, he wasn't cold but he kept feeling a chill running down his spine, and took a very small step towards him.
"I can't eat anything."
Fred scoffed at this.
"Well you're gonna, mum's been cooking her woes away and somebody's got to eat it. Besides, since when do you have no appetite?"
Ron couldn't believe that Fred was trying to be normal with him. Nothing was ever going to be normal again, couldn't he understand that?
"Since I almost choked to death on the fumes from a decomposing corpse," he mumbled.
"So you went through all that shit last night, survived the impossible, just so you could starve yourself to death in the comfort of your own home did you?"
"You don't," Ron began before having to stop and try to keep the internal convulsions of an empty body desperate to regurgitate something to a minimum, "it's not," he dropped to his knees and grabbed the bucket, "I can't talk right now."
Fred was at his side immediately as Ron tried to take slow deep breaths and keep his stomach steady for the moment. He hung his head over the bucket just in case and felt Fred ever so slightly rest his hand on his back.
"Don't touch me!" he flinched and Fred's hand was gone instantly.
"None of us are going to hurt you Ron. None of us are dead or rotting or trying to choke you or crush you, we're just trying to help you, you know that don't you?"
Ron didn't think he was going to try to bring anything up now and lifted his head from the bucket to look at his brother who was wearing an expression he wasn't familiar with seeing on his face, a look of compassion.
"Leave me alone Fred."
"Not on your life."
Fred illustrated his immovability by sitting cross-legged in front of Ron on the floor. The two of them sat staring at each other for almost fifteen minutes before Ron let out a sigh of defeat and hauled himself back to his feet again, his movements mirrored by his brother, and picked at one of his almost non-existent fingernails absent-mindedly.
"I'll come down when I've brushed my teeth ok?" he offered with a shrug.
Fred nodded before sidestepping to block him as he rushed for the door again.
"But don't get back in the shower again, or the bath, you have scrubbed your skin red raw and it's got to stop understand?"
Ron nodded and tried to pass his brother again, again Fred sidestepped and blocked his path.
"What now?" Ron growled.
"Stop picking at your fingers that's what, mum and Hermione spent nearly two hours fixing those up when you finally stopped washing your bloody hands and I'm not going to eat my breakfast while watching you tear all their good work apart."
"Ok, I've stopped look," Ron held up his hands and waited for Fred to move out of his way, "now if you don't mind I'd quite like to wash the taste of dead guy out of my mouth!"
This shocked his brother so much that Ron was able to get past him and dash into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, before he could say anything.
Ron stared at his reflection in the mirror and was amazed to still see himself. He leaned in closer and began to examine his scalp, he felt sure there were still things crawling around in his hair, but he couldn't see anything and told himself to stop after a while. He began to brush his teeth with far more vigour than was absolutely necessary, and then he brushed his tongue and then the insides of his cheeks and the roof of his mouth before finally rinsing out and noticing that he had made his mouth bleed. He kept rinsing until he stopped spitting blood and unlocked the door to go downstairs.
Fred and his mother were having a very animated conversation under their breath before hushing each other and turning to greet his arrival with unfeasibly wide grins.
"Ronnie, so good to see you up, I've been preparing all your favourites for breakfast. Help yourself dear," his mother declared merrily.
"Tea?" Fred offered as he poured himself a cup.
Ron shook his head.
"No I'm fine."
Fred stared at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Well ok then, I'll have some water," Ron mumbled.
"Water?" Fred confirmed, obviously not comfortable with the concept of Ron turning down a cuppa in the morning.
Ron picked up a glass and held it out to his brother to fill, which he did without another word about the matter.
"Come on then Ronnie, eat up, there's bacon and sausages and three different kinds of eggs..." his mother fussed.
Ron's stomach did a flip. He could smell burning flesh and he just couldn't look at the bacon without his mind picturing it gradually rotting and decaying into mould and then mush. The sausages were even worse. He was unable to contemplate putting anything's flesh into his mouth and chewing it up. He fought to suppress that damn gag reflex that kept rearing it's ugly head as he tried to swallow the tiniest sip of water and he knew that he wouldn't be able to eat anything at all.
"How about something from the..." his mother began as she pushed one of the large platters towards him with a hopeful smile.
Ron's chair scraped along the kitchen floor and he was on his feet and backing out the door and back towards the stairs before he knew it.
"You know what mum I don't think I'm really all that hungry right now, maybe later ok?" he strained to give her a smile before running up the stairs as if he was being pursued by rabid dogs.
"But Ronnie, you've got to eat something!" she called after him.
"Mum leave him, we'll try again later," he heard Fred saying as he thundered up the last flight and ran back into his room, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it.
He sunk to the floor and put his head in his hands. This was just great; he couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, he couldn't touch anyone or have anyone touch him; all he did was worry people and upset them when they tried to help him. He was a mess. What the hell use was he to anybody right now? He felt tears forcing their way out of his eyes and he began to shudder when a loud crack snapped him out of the tidal wave of self-pity that was about to drown him. Fred had appareated into his room.
"You forgot your drink," he said as he held out Ron's glass to him.
"Go away," he said, his voice betraying him and the tears overflowing and spilling down his cheeks.
Fred sat down in front of him, just as he had done before, and set the glass down between the two of them.
"No way."
Ron just wanted to have his little breakdown in peace, crying in front of either of the twins was a ticket to be ribbed and humiliated for the next three years or so about it.
"Just get out, I want to be on my own for a minute alright?" he choked.
"I'm not going anywhere," Fred seemed determined about staying and Ron couldn't figure out why, "you won't let any of us give you a hug and that's fine but I'm sure as hell not going to leave you all on your own in this state."
Ron wiped his face and sniffed. He stared at his brother in disbelief at this never before seen side of him.
"You give me a cuddle and I'll be out of your hair for the next hour and I'll keep mum out of your face too but if you can't do it then you'll just have to put up with my company."
Ron reached out for the glass of water and lifted it to his lips, taking three short sips and concentrating on swallowing them and keeping them down, before putting the glass down and sliding it across the floor to his brother with his foot.
"Want some?" he asked as he hugged his arms to himself and snuggled into the corner of the room, leaning against the wall beside the door.
Fred smiled and picked up the glass taking a swig and setting it back down again.
"Cheers mate."
Ron had just managed to evict Fred from his bedroom when his mother came in and closed the door behind her.
"Mum please, I'll eat in a little while I swear, just leave me alone for a bit will you?" he groaned.
She was looking at him with tearful eyes and she pulled up a chair and sat down before him with a shake of the head.
"Ronnie there's something I have to tell you. Your father wanted to be here when I did but when we found out about what happened at Gringotts he didn't want to draw any undue attention to the family by missing work so it's just me."
Ron stiffened, what was this all about?
"Sweetheart, do you remember when you were a little boy and you used to sleepwalk a lot of the time?"
Oh no, not this, she wasn't going to tell him what awful thing he had done to her back then was she?
"I don't want to know mum," he shook his head and she look at him with confusion, "whatever I did to you that made you hate me so much I'm sorry but I don't want to know ok?"
She almost leapt from the chair and threw her arms around him, it seemed to be taking up a lot of her will power not to do so, and she put her hand over her heart and shook her head.
"There isn't a thing in the world you could ever do to make me hate you Ronnie, it would be impossible for me to ever hate you my beautiful boy," she sniffed before continuing, "don't you ever think that any of this is your fault."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your gift Ronnie, I'm talking about the gift you inherited from my side of the family. You are just like my brother's Fabian and Gideon, they used to do it too you see?"
"They...what?" Ron shook his head and tried to keep track of all this new information about his own life.
"They were oracles, just like you."
Ron felt as if his insides were suddenly hollow.
"I'm a...what?"
"An oracle dear. You can talk to the dead. You can talk to the dead in your sleep."
Ron shook his head, this couldn't be right, she couldn't be telling him the truth. Why would she lie though? Then again, why would she have kept it from him for all these years if it were true?
"I," he shook his head again, "no you're wrong."
His mother wiped a tear from her eye.
"I wish I was wrong, I wish I had some way to make it all go away and keep you safe, and I wish I could give you a peaceful undisturbed life but there's nothing I can do. There's nothing anybody can do except keep the condition secret from as many people as possible. I didn't even tell your father until last night."
Ron sprung to his feet with rage.
"What?"
His mother burst into tears as Ron began to pace up and down and chew upon the fragile skin around his stunted thumbnail.
"The more people that know about you the more people can seek you out when they die and use you. The only people who can do this to you are people who knew your secret while they were alive. Fabian and Gideon did tests when you were a baby and thought you were one of them but I told them they were wrong, I didn't want it to be true Ronnie, and then they were both killed and...and..."
"It was them wasn't it?" Ron said, suddenly frozen on the spot and staring at his mother with livid eyes, "they were the ones who took me when I was a little kid all those times."
"When George woke you that last night you were taken into the afterlife and Gideon took over your body and, well he came downstairs to talk to me," her face crumpled up and tears squeezed out of her eyes as she gave an anguished whimper, "my dead brother Ron, inside my baby, that was why I couldn't face you afterwards. He was...I could still see him in there, in you."
Ron suddenly found himself breathing rather erratically, he was getting very hot and couldn't calm himself down, he leant against the window frame and looked out into the woods where he was found as a child almost frozen to death.
"Ronnie calm down, you're making yourself ill," his mother said as she got up from the chair.
Ron spun around and managed to shout at her despite his increasing breathlessness.
"Calm down! Are you serious mother? Dead people are putting me in the ground with other dead people and you're telling me to calm down?"
"Ron please, you're hyperventilating, you've got to stop..." she tried to reach out for him and help him deal with his oncoming panic attack but he backed away from her into the wall.
"Don't fucking touch me!" he gasped.
At that moment Fred came bursting into the room, causing both Ron and his mother to almost jump out of their skins, and roared at the top of his voice.
"Right that's enough, both of you!"
"Fred I told you to wait downstairs," their mother began to chide, before her eyes widened in alarm as Ron's breathlessness caused him to collapse onto the floor.
"Well it's a good job I didn't isn't it?" Fred snapped at his mother before pulling a Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes paper bag out of his pocket and dropping to his knees and pushing the bag over Ron's mouth and barking at him with just as much ferocity, "You breathe into this and don't ever use language like that to our mother again!"
Ron was doing as he was told but it wasn't really working due to the fact he was squirming under his brother's touch and that Fred was towering over him and shouting quite a lot.
"You don't like me touching you then you'll have to hold this in place yourself understand?" Fred said firmly.
Ron nodded and took the bag in his own hand. Fred moved back and watched as Ron breathed in and out, the bag inflating and deflating, until he eventually began to calm down.
"Oh thank you Fred," their mother sobbed, "is he going to be alright?"
Fred gripped her shoulders and guided her back out of the room.
"He's going to be as fine as he can be right now but this conversation's going to have to stop."
She nodded and dissolved into more tears as Fred led her to her own bedroom to compose herself. Ron let the beg fall from his mouth and felt his chest ache from all the exertion of a full blown anxiety attack. He struggled back to his feet and crossed the room to take another sip of the water from the glass on the floor. Fred returned just as he swallowed and was somewhere between seething with rage and absolutely mortified with fear.
"Are you ok now?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed so they met above his nose and his lips thin.
Ron nodded and took a deep but shaky breath.
"Thanks."
"Look I'd be pissed off if she'd kept this from me as well but it's been killing her Ron and this is neither of your fault," Fred was sounding a little shaky himself now.
"But why me Fred?" Ron asked desperately.
Fred shook his head and shrugged sadly before a small smile grew upon his face.
"Maybe because you're the strongest one of the lot of us."
Ron laughed and cried at the same time.
"I accused my girlfriend of being a corpse last night. I'm not strong."
Fred smiled at him.
"If you weren't something special why would your girlfriend have kissed you goodbye in front of me and Harry before she left?"
Ron swallowed.
"She did?"
Fred looked smug now.
"If this girlfriend of yours is called Hermione, then yes."
Ron was sitting at the table. It was his second attempt at having breakfast after Fred had tried to get him to eat some buttered toast in his bedroom and he had excused himself to go and brush his teeth again. Now his brother had put a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him that Ron had built himself up to try and eat to put his mind at rest. He plunged a forkful into his mouth as Fred had turned to leave the kitchen. It was then that Ron was reminded of the texture of the sludge on the bottom of the coffin and he spat the unchewed eggs back into his hand and vanished it with his wand under the table. He looked up to check that Fred hadn't noticed any of this before his eyes drifted over to the door where he was watching him with arched eyebrows and his arms folded.
He looked back down at his plate and pushed the remaining eggs around with his fork wondering how on earth he was going to be able to get away with not eating them.
"Harry, Hermione, you're back!" Fred said, sounding overly delighted to see them
Ron looked up to see them walking through the back door and into the kitchen. Harry gave him a tired smile and Hermione took a seat across the table from Ron. He met her eyes and saw from the look on her face that she had seen the absolute worst of his former prison. Fred was taking Harry's jacket from him and they were mumbling about something. Hermione smiled at Ron and mouthed the words 'are you ok?' to him. He almost considered lying but thought he owed her better than that and shook his head. Hermione laid her hands on the table and moved as if she was going to take his hand before remembering his aversion to touch and remaining still as Fred bounded out of the kitchen.
Ron tried to give Hermione a smile as Harry pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.
"So, where have you been?" Ron's voice was so raw after all the goings on that morning he hoped they wouldn't notice.
"You know where we've been," Harry said sadly before picking up Ron's fork and taking a mouthful of scrambled egg, "Mmm, this is good."
Ron smiled an easier smile and slid his plate across to Harry.
"You can finish it if you want, I've had enough."
Harry looked at Ron, he knew he was lying and Ron hoped that he wouldn't push him on the matter.
"Thanks mate, I left without any breakfast," Harry looked up at Hermione and pushed the plate towards her, "do you want some Hermione or are you still feeling a little queasy?"
Ron's eyes darted across the table to Hermione who was shaking her head.
"No, I don't think I could manage it Harry, you go ahead."
Ron's hand edged across the table a couple of inches, Hermione noticed this immediately and moved hers slightly closer but didn't force her touch onto him, keeping a little distance between them for Ron to make the first move. He worried that she was starving herself out of worry for him.
"Did you have anything for breakfast Hermione?"
She shook her head.
"No but I'm fine Ron, I honestly don't feel like eating anything right now, maybe later."
Harry pulled the plate back towards him and scooped up another forkful.
"Well if you're sure," he said, not seeming to notice Ron's look of concern for their fried, before shovelling more eggs into his mouth.
Ron tried to get Harry's attention so he could silently tell him to push Hermione a little further on the eating thing. He obviously couldn't do it while he was declining food himself, she'd just call him a hypocrite and use it as an excuse to go hungry, but Harry wasn't meeting his eyes. He needed to grab their attention some way. Eventually he knew the only thing for it was talking about the last thing he really wanted to talk about right now.
"So you went back and saw him then?"
Harry stopped chewing and swallowed uncomfortably.
"Yeah, it was...nasty."
Ron looked down at the table, that was an understatement, before noticing that Hermione was tilting her head to try and catch his eye. He looked up at her, almost afraid of what she had to say.
"We can't imagine what it must have been like in there Ron but if you ever want to talk about it we're both..."
Ron decided to have a go at persuasion as a form of distraction from the conversation that he definitely knew he didn't want to be getting into now.
"You sure you don't want to eat Hermione? You look a bit pale and you know mum'll notice and start fussing."
"I really don't think I could keep anything down right now."
"So we found the locket. Regulus destroyed it and swallowed it, he was buried with it in his stomach Ron, so that's another one to cross of the list thanks to you."
They heard Mrs Weasley's heavy footsteps on the stairs and Ron let out a sigh. He hadn't seen her since their little confrontation in his bedroom earlier on. Hermione frowned and opened her mouth to say something but Ron rested the tips of his fingers on top of her hand and she was silenced before she could even begin. This was the second time he had touched anybody of his own free will and both times it had been Hermione. It still made him feel a little uneasy though. He felt the need to warn them about the possible tension that was about to be felt in the kitchen on his mother's arrival.
"She told me the truth, what I am, it didn't go well and she's been in her bedroom crying for ages. I've made her cry again," Ron felt ashamed of himself as he spoke.
Hermione's eyes began to redden and she reached out to clasp her other hand on top of Ron's but he jerked back and gave an involuntary shudder just as Fred re-entered the kitchen.
"Dear me Ron, who just walked over your...grave?"
Fred's face fell as he had said it and his shoulders slumped. Their mum had been walking in behind him and she smacked him across the back of his head but Fred didn't even cringe. He just stared at Ron and mouthed incomprehensibly, shaking his head, and their mother bundled him aside to get to Ron and make sure that he wasn't going to get upset again. He couldn't let her touch him otherwise he'd flinch and she'd think he still hadn't forgiven her for keeping the oracle thing a secret from him so he sprang out of his chair and backed away as calmly as he could.
"It's ok mum, Fred's made bad jokes before, and he'll make them again, no harm done."
Ron smiled at Fred who still shook his head in disbelief at his comment as he made his way to the kitchen door.
"I'm just going to brush my teeth ok? I'll be right back."
He heard his mum calling after him as his feet pounded up the stairs.
"But you've brushed your teeth three times already Ronnie."
He could still feel the texture of those damn eggs on his tongue and he just needed to have another go at making his mouth feel like it used to. He just wanted his tongue to taste like him again, he never realised his mouth had a taste until he couldn't taste it anymore. He brushed with a little less ferocity than he had done the last two times, although his gums still bled anyway, and he suspected that brushing your teeth three times in one morning probably wasn't good for a person's mouth.
He looked at himself in the mirror and hoped that he looked ok. He didn't look like the living dead. It seemed so long ago now that he had woken from that nightmare thinking his face was rotting away. He opened the bathroom door and set off back down into the kitchen.
Ron stepped into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to look at the grinning faces all staring back at him. It couldn't have been more obvious that they had all been talking about him behind his back. What else was new?
"Subtle...very subtle," he smiled at them.
"Teeth clean?" Hermione smiled back at him.
Ron ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded before looking away from them all and at the kitchen cupboards. He really thought Hermione should eat something it was nearly lunchtime now.
"It wasn't really my teeth, I had a bad taste in my mouth," he muttered under his breath.
Ron took a step towards one of the cupboards and opened it. He knew he couldn't cook meat anymore than he was able to eat meat right now and wondered what he could make for her.
"You feeling any better Hermione?" he asked over his shoulder as he realised he was going to have to make something he could stomach as well as she would almost certainly refuse to eat if he wasn't going to join her.
"Yes I think my stomach's settled a bit now," she sounded a little confused as to what Ron was getting at.
Ron turned away from the cupboard and looked back at her, avoiding the eyes of everybody else around the table as he did.
"It's just, I was going to make some...soup or something, if you wanted some."
"I'd love to join you for lunch Ron, no offence to your mother but I've missed your cooking these last few days," Hermione smiled at him.
I knew it! 'Join you for lunch', she was so sneaky.
Ron gave a half smile and looked at the others around the table.
"Anyone else?"
Harry looked down at his eggs and then back at Ron with a nod.
"The eggs have gone cold, if you don't mind I'd love some soup."
Ron nodded back at him and tried not to read too much into the sad expression his friend was trying so hard to hide from him.
"This isn't you're famous Oxtail soup is it? I still think you could go into business selling that stuff, it's addictive!" Fred grinned.
Ron looked away from his brother and tried not to visibly gag at the thought of the gristly chunks of meat floating on the top of the beefy scented soup and began grabbing at different ingredients from the cupboards.
"No, sorry Fred, I'm doing vegetable soup."
"That's good too, make extra and I'll take some back for George, he'll be miffed that he missed it otherwise," Fred obviously hadn't understood what he had said that had caused Ron to react so badly but was trying to make up for it anyway.
Ron tried to relax as he looked back over his shoulder at Fred.
"Sorry."
"No it's fine little bro, what have you got to be sorry about?"
Ron lowered his eyes before pulling a couple of potatoes out of the cupboard. He busied himself with dicing them while answered the question with his back to them all. They needed to know this. He couldn't face another meal where they all pestered him to cut into something's body and put it into his mouth.
"It's just that...I don't think I can cook meat right now, or touch it, not for a while."
"Good for you Ron," Hermione said, startling him a little, "a vegetarian diet is so much better for you, no cholesterol worries, no fat..."
"No food!" his mother scowled, Ron had always thought that she would never truly believe that her children were eating enough unless they were totally spherical in shape.
"Mum!" Ron heard Fred snapping at her.
She seemed to be playing along with the 'nutter humouring' that had taken the kitchen at the Burrow by storm.
"Oh but I'd love some vegetable soup Ronnie, a nice light lunch is just what we could all do with I think."
"And Ron," Hermione called over to him, he turned to look back at her, "if you could manage some croutons that'd be great."
Ron blinked. Of course he could manage croutons. He was a bred-maker now she knew that didn't she? Then he noticed his mother rising from her chair.
"Well for croutons you need bread, I'll get cracking while you do the soup Ronnie."
Hermione smiled from Ron to his mother and he understood what she was doing for him.
"No need. Ron can conjure bread in an instant, delicious it is too."
Ron blinked again and smiled at Hermione before taking out his wand and pointing it at the table. The table was bare but he felt sure he could conjure the bread out of thin air now he knew where he had been going wrong all those other times. He gently flicked his wand in slow motion and said the spell smoothly and slowly.
"Crustum!"
A large loaf swelled on the kitchen table and gave off the most delicious warm aromas. Fred looked impressed and his mother gasped.
"How did you do that? I can't do that."
Ron sent a look of thanks back to Hermione and smiled at her before turning back to his vegetables.
"He can feed the three of us with all sorts of nourishing stuff Mrs Weasley," Hermione boasted from behind his back, "why I don't think I'd ever need to eat meat again if I had Ron around all the time."
All right babe, don't overdo it!
Ron tried to ignore the fact that it was getting dark outside. He tried to ignore the fact that he was feeling more and more exhausted with each passing hour. He tried to ignore his mother's constant anxious glances in his direction and the nods of understanding from his father whenever he looked up. More than anything else he wanted to try to ignore talk of binding spells that were just 'bound to work' and go outside and lay beneath the stars.
Something didn't feel right about the Burrow now that night had fallen. It felt smaller to him without any open spaces visible through the windows. The living room seemed stifling and he wondered how he had never noticed just how much stuff was on every wall. The walls were already too close together but when you take into account all the shelving and picture frames and the big mirror over the fireplace, which was raging so ferociously that the flames seemed to be consuming all the oxygen from the room, and the many accumulated trophies and awards displayed for all visitors to see Ron convinced himself that the room was only really three feet in width.
Ron suddenly felt as if the fire was so close to his face that it was burning his skin and roasting him alive. He jumped to his feet, causing Hermione to squeal with shock, and practically ran out of the door and up the stairs.
"Ron where are you going?" he heard Hermione calling after him.
"I'm just going to my room to get something to read," he managed to lie before reaching his room and closing the door behind him. As soon as he did that he rushed over to the window and flung it open wide before sinking into a corner of the room and sitting on the floor, feeling the cool breeze blow against his face, and he tried to remember that he was in the middle of a huge open field. He wasn't boxed in; he could jump on his broom if he wanted to and fly away. He dropped his head into his hands and imagined he was outside right now. He imagined he was flying on and on and on and forever. He was as far away from the ground as possible. Nothing could swallow him up from way up there.
He heard his door clicking open and found his mind brought back to earth at the sound of Harry and Hermione entering his room with caution.
"Ron, it's going to be alright, we're going to stay awake in shifts and we've found some older binding spells in one of your grandma Prewitt's spell books, she had them highlighted for when your uncles needed restraining in the night. Your mum says they'll work and I believe her," Hermione seemed to believe that saying anything was better than doing nothing.
Ron didn't even bother with a response. His mother had tried all those spells when he was little and he'd still beaten them all with the aid of his uncles. This ghost seemed to be ten times more powerful then they had been so the Prewitt restraining techniques were of no comfort to him whatsoever. Hermione was reaching out for him, he knew how much she hated it when he didn't engage in conversation when she wanted him to, and he tried to let her lay her hand on his shoulder. She needed it even if he wanted nothing less in the world right now. Just as she was about to make contact his resolve failed him and he squirmed away from her.
"Oh sorry," she pulled her arm back and bit her lip, "I keep forgetting."
Godric, if only he could too.
"Lucky you," Ron mumbled, he glanced back up at Hermione and saw that her faux pas had upset her but not nearly as much as his revulsion of her touch, "I'm really sorry."
"Don't be silly, this isn't your fault, you take as long as you need. I can wait."
Ron wondered what she was waiting for him to do.
"Wait for what?"
She gave him a sad smile.
"Wait until I can get a hug of course."
Ron looked away from her and let out a weary sigh. He'd never felt so tired in his entire life and he'd never dreaded sleep with as much paralysing fear as he did right now.
"Are those hoops still in your backpack?" Harry asked out of the blue.
Ron looked up into Harry's eyes and saw that old look of determination he recognised as his ' I'm about to do something incredibly stupid and I don't bloody care ' look and Ron almost dared to hope. He felt some of the tension leaving his body and with that some of the strength he needed to stay awake. If Harry wasn't about to say what he hoped he was going to say he would just throw himself out of that open window and into the bramble patch to wake himself up again. He nodded weakly, and felt his eyelids growing heavier, and he silently pleaded with his friend not to be toying with him about this.
"Harry wait..." Hermione began.
Ron's head dropped and he almost let out a cry of frustration except he was too damn tired to make any noise at all.
"No Hermione, I've heard everything you have to say about this and I don't care, look at him for Godric's sake!" Harry barked.
Ron glanced up to see Hermione looking at him and then back at Harry. She nodded and got to her feet. Ron's body relaxed even more now. Soon, he told himself, soon he would be able to trust himself to go to sleep. Harry turned and grabbed Ron's backpack but Hermione laid her hand on his arm and told him again to wait. Something inside Ron's head screamed and he wished Hermione wasn't so thoughtful all the time. So what if this was dangerous, so what if it was illegal, so what if she was morally against it? He was morally against being buried alive and robbing banks and fighting Death Eaters without his knowledge or consent. He was morally against feeling sick every minute of the day. He was morally against hating the touch of his own girlfriend's hand on his skin.
Fuck her morals!
"They're not taking him Hermione, if this bond of blood was going to kill me I'd still do it, I don't care if they're helping me anymore. I'm going to do this," Harry understood, Harry would do this for him.
"No you're not," she said firmly and Ron wanted to cry out with frustration, "I am."
Ron and Harry gaped at her as she stood before them with her arms folded and her jaw set with determination.
"He's not going anywhere without me Harry. I'm doing it."
Ron watched the blade slicing through Hermione's palm and winced, trying to control his discomfort at seeing mutilated flesh, as he watched her picking up one of the silver hoops. Her blood seeped into the metal and the hoop to glowed and hummed in her fingers. She looked right into Ron and bit her lip.
"Are you sure?"
Ron nodded, he still felt too tired to really interact with proceedings any more than nodding his consent every time she sought it again, and held out his arm.
"Thank you," he said in barely a whisper.
Harry held his breath as Hermione put the hoop over Ron's fist and let it go at his wrist. The hoop floated there, the hum and the glow fading, and Hermione stepped back apprehensively.
"Can you take it off?" she asked him.
Ron tried to slide the hoop back down his arm but it wouldn't budge. Hermione nodded, she still didn't look happy about this but she seemed reassured to see that it was working the way it was supposed to be. She picked the second hoop up from the floor and let her blood connect with it until the same glowing hum began again. She slid the hoop over her own fist and let it float in place around her wrist. The glow faded a second time and Harry took out his wand and healed Hermione's cut hand.
"This is only until morning Ron, they come off as soon as you wake up understand?" she warned him.
Ron nodded and looked down at his hoop.
"So how far do I get from you before it kicks in?"
"As far as I allow," she seemed a little disgusted with herself as she said the words, "and while we're asleep I won't allow you to leave your bed."
Hermione walked away from Ron and stood at his window, looking out and sniffing quietly. She obviously didn't want him to see how much this had upset her but it was pretty clear. Despite this Ron still needed confirmation that everything had gone to plan and unsteadily got to his feet.
"Hermione," he called across the room to her, she took a breath and turned around to face him, "can you just try it once, I need to know what it feels like."
She looked at him as if he had just asked her to throw the cruciatus curse at him.
"I need to know," Ron pleaded, "so I'll know it's you and I won't...freak out or fight it or anything."
Hermione still didn't look happy about this but she nodded all the same. She raised the arm with the hoop around it and jerked it back suddenly. Ron felt a pull, something similar to how a portkey made him feel but this was more like a solid wind slamming into him bodily and sending him across the room to her faster than his feet were able to keep up with, and he thudded into her. They both slammed against the wall behind Hermione and Ron was temporarily winded. Hermione kept her balance by steadying herself against Ron while he braced himself against the wall behind her and tried to keep as much of himself away from her as possible. He struggled not to let her see how their close proximity was affecting him wile they both struggled to get their breath back. He must have subconsciously squirmed away from her as she pulled back from him immediately.
"Sorry, I knew that was a bad idea, are you alright?"
Ron nodded and felt like shit for still treating her this way after what she had just done for him.
"I hate this!" she cried aloud and wiped her eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, "I'm just as bad as them now, whoever they are, I'm controlling you against your will and I hate it!"
Ron had taken a couple of steps back from her as she went through her attack of frustration. He owed her, he owed her big, and he tried to get himself together enough to thank her properly. She had made such a big sacrifice for him, she had sacrificed her principles for his own sense of security and he couldn't even lean against her for a couple of seconds without feeling trapped.
You can do this; you can do this for her. She loves you enough to have gone against what she believes in and all she wants is to know you're still the same guy who told her he loved her last night. Merlin was it only last night? Where had his life gone in the last 24 hours?
"Ron do you need...?" Harry began to say from the far side of the room.
Do it, do it now!
He took two steps back toward Hermione and leaned forward, kissing her incredibly briefly on the lips, before pulling back and fighting the urge to shudder with everything he had in him.
"Never mind," he heard Harry saying.
"I trust you to control me ok?" Ron felt as if he was going to pass out at any second and he needed to say this before he did, "I need it, I need you, and I'm sorry that's all I can give you right now but..."
"I can wait," she said, looking happier than Ron had ever thought he could make a person, "I can wait for as long as it takes for you to be comfortable again, don't rush it for me."
She held up her arm, the hoop suspended before her.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Ron tried to smile but his eyelids weren't obeying him anymore and he felt the weight of the day making his body heavy and his brain began to shut down for the night.
"I don't want to seem ungrateful but..." he felt himself sway on his feet and heard Harry take a couple of rushed steps behind him, "...I think I'm going to pass-out."
The world whooshed away and he heard Harry's voice whispering to him from what sounded like miles away.
"I've got you..."
He thought he felt a spell hitting him; a light brightened outside his closed eyelids, and then it was as if a dark heavy blanket of sleep was being draped over him. The sounds of the room drifted into silence.
He settled into nothingness for a blissful hour or two. Too tired even to dream, or maybe a dreamless sleep draught had been snuck into his drink before he came up to his room and felt the sudden onset of exhaustion hitting him like the Hogwarts Express, until a familiar voice shattered his peace.
"Ronald, please forgive me..."
A/N I'm glad that so many of you picked up on Hermione's dominance over Ron prior to the bond of blood and yes she does seem to have a tiny bit of a bondage thing going on doesn't she? I put it down to her need to control everything in her life.
Also, for those who care, I've started to transcribe my Thailand adventures onto my blog, the first installment is up now and you can get to it via the link in my profile (ignore the stuff at the end, that's just the usual me being mental crap!) Shari