Chapter Twelve - Those You Leave Behind

Ron sat up, drawing his knees up and hugging his legs to himself, and refused to look up at the wispy silver spectre that was standing before him. It was Dumbledore, Dumbledore had been the one who came back from the dead to use him, Dumbledore had been the person to break his promise to his mother and seek him out to complete his unfinished business. Dumbledore was the person who didn't give a crap about what happened to him as long as he helped Harry beat the Dark Lord.

"That was not an easy decision for me to have to make and I will understand if you can't ever forgive me Ronald but please try to understand that I never wanted to hurt you physically or mentally. You have dealt with this whole horror admirably, better than I could ever have hoped, and I am in complete awe of you my dear boy. You have amazed me."

Was that supposed to make it all right? Was he supposed to just shake it off and get down to finding the next horcrux for him? Where would Dumbledore have him wake up next he wondered, was there anything worse than that coffin? How much more could his old headmaster put him through he asked himself?

"You will never believe the pain I feel for what I did to you Ronald, I know that, but please don't believe that I do not care for your suffering. I never left you that night, I stayed with you the whole time and I couldn't bear to hear you calling out to me and slowly suffocating down there, and I tried to do everything I could think of to aid your escape before I let you wake."

What does he want from me, thanks? Thank you for making some half arsed attempt not to kill me.

"I do not have a heart that beats Ronald but I can assure you that it is still capable of breaking."

Oh I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry to have upset you, how inconsiderate of me to put you in such an awful position. This is entirely my fault, I see that now you sodding bastard. You selfish, narrow-minded, victory obsessed old fucker! Well your sacrificial lamb isn't going to play along anymore, it can't, not since you took it to the slaughterhouse to be butchered you sadist.

"Ronald please talk to me," Dumbledore's wavering voice called out, "it will devastate me if you let the insanity take you so soon, you have such a resilience to it. These past few visits you have handled the exertion so well and if you just surrender to it now...well I wouldn't be able to think of a way to punish myself to do you justice. You are more than just a vessel to me Ron, you are not simply a device I wish to use until it breaks, you are my partner, my comrade, my friend."

This was too much for Ron to take anymore; he lifted his head and struggled to hold in the tears.

"How could you do that to me?" Ron managed to force out through his reluctant vocal chords, as the tears went ahead and flowed anyway.

"If there had been another way to show you the horcrux within our time constraints I would have done it, I would have done anything to spare you that horror Ronald, please believe me."

Something tightened around Ron's curled up body and he felt as if it was squeezing the outrage and indignation out of him and towards Dumbledore.

"Believe you? I trusted you!" Ron gasped as the words shot forth from him with ragged ferocity.

"You can still trust me Ronald, I just wish you could still have me with you when you wake at times like that so you won't feel so alone."

"Times?" Ron found himself trembling at the thought, he didn't like the sound of that plural at all, "There'll be more times?"

Dumbledore shook his head just as Ron felt his chest constricting even more, something was wrapping around him and tightening uncomfortably, and he saw a shadow encircling his body and wondered if the ghost of Black was trying to come for him and finish the job. He had disturbed his spirit as well as his body and it wanted to take his life...what was left of it.

"Not if I can help it," Dumbledore was answering his question, it was as if he hadn't noticed Ron's invisible attacker.

"That's not good enough," Ron said as he tried not to convey the fear he was feeling, at being manipulated in so many ways by so many different dead souls.

Their time was up. They should be resting. They should accept that their business on this earth was done and leave him alone. He wasn't their puppet, he was...he was...losing. He was losing himself to them.

"It pains me more than you will ever know to have been the one to have done that to you but time is of the essence and that was the fastest way to eliminate the locket as a horcrux."

Ron felt the compression encircling his body loosen and his breathing ease, maybe Black wasn't going to squeeze the life out of him after all, and he shook his head. Dumbledore didn't care at all. He just wanted to get him on side again so he would jump through some more fiery hoops for him like a good little drone.

"I'm just expendable to you, you don't even care."

Dumbledore looked genuinely hurt by this, Ron tried to stay firm, he wasn't going to fall for the old man's tricks any more, he wasn't going to let him play on his emotions ever again.

"Of course I care, do you think I would jeopardise your life?"

"What do you call last night then?" Ron blurted out, unable to believe the selective memory of the ghostly figure before him.

"I had faith in you to get out, you should have more in yourself."

What the hell was that? That was justification was it? 'I knew you could claw your way out of a coffin deep underground so I didn't have to worry all that much' I hate him. I hate the callous bastard.

"Leave me alone," Ron let his head drop once more.

"I know you feel let down, betrayed by me but..."

"You betrayed my mother!" he found himself screaming at the top of his lungs at the startled old wizard.

Dumbledore held up both of his hands and nodded sadly.

"Yes I did. I admit it, I took Molly's confidence, and I broke my promise to her not to use your gift should I pass on but I didn't estimate the three of you taking on this quest alone," he stepped closer to Ron and sat at the foot of his bed, "You need my assistance and I will not abandon you Mr Weasley, not even in death."

"Yours or mine?" Ron said coolly.

There were more shadows moving around him now, the dead were all coming out to get him, they were going to make him pay, or maybe they were waiting in line to use him after Dumbledore. His life was not his own anymore and it was all Dumbledore's fault.

"I wish I could take that pain from you but I can't. I wish I hadn't been the cause of your pain. I don't want you to think I do not value you Ronald," Ron wanted to hit him, he wanted to hit the old man so badly, but then he felt one of the shadows gripping him again and tried to concentrate on keeping them out, "Risking you isn't something I do lightly and not something I want to do again."

Ron looked him in his icy grey eyes and glared.

"I bet you wouldn't have done it to Harry at all."

You move heaven and earth to spare him any pain. He's the one you want to help. If anything ever happened to Harry you'd just abandon me without a second thought. I'm nothing to you.

"Ron the things I have done to poor Harry over the years. The protection I gave him that involved his own emotional suffering, it is the difficult decisions that make us."

Why are our bloody lives ruled by your decisions you arrogant shit?

Ron was about to vent his fury at Dumbledore when the tightness around his chest intensified to an unbearable degree and the shadows began to dart before him rapidly. What were they doing to him? Why wasn't Dumbledore helping him if he was so concerned about him? Couldn't he see what was happening?

Then Ron noticed that he did seem to be looking at the commotion in the afterlife and looked somewhat alarmed himself.

"What if I decide I've had enough?" Ron managed to say, hoping that the old man was sorry enough to give him a way out of all this.

"You have for tonight I'm afraid. Harry is about to do something rash and I cannot allow that, not just yet anyway, and besides Ron I think the decision to let me take your body lies with you and you alone."

Take him? Oh Godric he wants to swap places with me. He wants me to give up my life to let him have his back.

Ron could barely breath now, the crushing sensation around his chest was beginning to hurt him, and he tried to remember what his mother had told him about the possession side of his oracle abilities. Would he be dead forever? What did Dumbledore want to do with him if he did take him over? Then the most important question of all flashed into his mind.

"If you take my body where will I go?" Ron asked, his eyes wide with alarm and his voice wheezing with the lack of air behind it.

Dumbledore smiled at him, only a small smile but it was definitely there.

"That is one guarantee I can make you. You will be safe there."

The old wizard stood up and moved forward, through Ron's bed, to lean over him and rest his cold palms on either side of his head. He was still smiling as a wave of warm magic flowed into Ron and he felt his eyes falling closed and his body loosening.

"Rest now Ron, your poor mind needs some respite, and I fear that Miss Granger is about to suffocate you."

Dumbledore's touch faded into nothing, as did everything else around him, and all that was left was the warmth and the weight of sleep as it darkened his mind and closed his mind once again.

Regulus Black's skeletal arm was clinging to him while he struggled to find a way out of the coffin. He felt around in the darkness for the wand but he couldn't find it anywhere. The arm moved up his body and something crawled up the back of his neck. The coffin was caving in, buckling under the weight of all the compacted earth above it, and the wood bowed as it splintered and cracked. The soil started pouring in and the lid lowered and pressed Black's arm against him and him down onto Black's body firmly. He could feel the maggots in the eye cavities crawling into his hair and he could feel the sickly hot breath from Black's jawless mouth on his skin.

The air was all but gone from the coffin now and the soil was crushing him into the bones beneath, which popped and snapped under him, and Ron was gasping for anything to fill his lungs but there was nothing but fumes and toxins and dirt.

Black's hand slid further up Ron's body, across his chest and gliding across his face trailing rotten flesh across his skin and resting on the side of his face. Ron struggled to turn his face away from the deathly caress but the soil was burying them both in position now, he would feel that touch until he eventually died. He would lay with Black like that for all eternity. The hand was suddenly withdrawn and Ron found it in him to move his arms and push up against the collapsed coffin lid.

"Gemme out," he gasped through the ever-cascading soil as it forced the coffin lid back down, pressing it flat against Ron's chest and squeezing the last of the air out of his already empty lungs.

Ron felt something bright illuminate his face and suddenly he was able to breath again. He opened his eyes and saw that Harry was standing before him with his wand pointed at his face and a terrified look on his face. Ron found himself shivering uncontrollably as he tried to sit up.

"It's ok mate, you were just having a bad dream, you're fine now," Harry smiled at him.

He turned back to his own bed and pulled a blanket off it before turning and draping it around Ron's shoulders. Ron couldn't believe how shaken up he had got over a stupid little nightmare. He really thought he was dying in there. It really did feel as if he couldn't breathe. He wondered why he was shaking so much.

"S-s-sorry," Ron said.

"What are you sorry for?" Harry frowned.

Ron almost laughed as he shrugged and pulled the blanket around him tightly. He was just so used to apologising these days that he just did it automatically without thinking.

"I dunno."

Harry smiled before looking over his shoulder and calling out.

"Hermione, do you want to take off the hoops?"

Ron turned and flinched at the unexpected sight of Hermione behind him, crouched on his bed with her back pressed flat against the wall, and he tried to smile at her and force his shivering to stop. She had obviously slept beside him again and he didn't want her to think that his terrible state that morning was her fault. He was still feeling guilty for the way he had treated her after his nightmares after they had first brought him back to Burrow.

"Morning," he said before looking down at his hands, he hadn't managed to stop them from shaking, "I don't know what's wrong, I'm not even cold."

"It'll pass soon enough," she beamed falsely; "let's get that hoop off your arm shall we?"

While Hermione removed their hoops Ron bit the bullet and asked Harry how bad it had been last night. His heart sank when Harry told him that he had been visited again. There were never going to stop coming for him were they? He was going to have to fight them off every night for the rest of his life.

Huh, what life?

His life was officially over as of now.

"You gave them what for, you actually shouted at them, you were brilliant," Harry was saying to him proudly.

It wasn't enough; nothing was ever going to be enough. He saw that Hermione was crawling off his bed now, she seemed to be trying her very hardest not to come anywhere near him, and she turned and smiled another unrealistically large smile at him.

"I'll bring you up a cup of tea I think, would you like one Harry?"

Harry nodded and Hermione turned to make her way out and Ron realised that he was hurting her so much with his fear of physical contact that it had to stop right now, whether he was ready or not, and he grabbed her by the wrist. She gasped and froze, Ron felt as if she was charging him with something powerful that he couldn't contain and stared back at her. The shivers had dissipated into a slight tremor in his voice as he tried to acknowledge her unfaltering loyalty to him despite his ill treatment in return.

"You stayed with me didn't you?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione nodded breathlessly.

He was really trying, more than he ever had before, but it was going to send him back into a similar state to the one he was in when his mother told him the family secret. He let go of her wrist and, not being able to take the look of hurt in her eyes, glanced over at the silver hoops. She had kept him safe that night. It was all down to her. She was his protector, his guardian angel, and his only hope.

"Thank you," he whispered as he forced himself to look back at her.

She left the room on the verge of tears and Ron looked down at his hands, the pink and tender fingertips and the overly short fingernails, while Harry tried to tactfully broach the subject of leaving him behind.

"I'm sorry, I wish..."

"It's ok," Ron half smiled, "I can't go anywhere at the moment can I? I'm no good to anyone right now."

"No don't say that," Harry said, obviously feeling like crap right now.

"It's alright," Ron smiled a little wider to try and convince his best friend that there were no hard feelings, "at least we've found a way to stop me eh?"

Harry nodded before suddenly blurting out something that almost brought Ron's attack of the shakes back with a vengeance.

"I almost woke you last night, I'm sorry, don't worry I didn't do it. Your dad stopped me, well no it was you, you stopped me."

"Why did you...?" Ron began.

"I was just so angry with them for what they did to you, I wanted to get them to face me, and I let my temper get the better of me as usual. I was going to..." Harry shook his head with regret, "...I just needed to yell at them so much, to find out who the hell was doing this to you, that I was willing to let them posses you. I'm so sorry Ron."

Ron let the blanket slip from his shoulders and he crossed the room to sit beside Harry on his bed.

"It's ok, I understand, I'm kind of curious about who this bastard is myself," he shrugged.

"That's not the point. I'm not leaving you behind because you're not up to the trip anymore, not just that, I have to leave you behind because I scared myself last night Ron. I'm scared of what I almost did. I can't trust myself to keep my cool when they're getting to you."

Ron and Harry both looked at the floorboards, tense and silent, for several seconds before Harry took a deep breath and told Ron the last of his worries. He told him that this spirit knew him and was using Ron to protect him. He explained that he was worried that they would use Ron until his was spent and then move on to Hermione. He wanted to go on alone without either of them.

"Now that Hermione's bound to you she can't leave anyway, it's all worked out for the best."

"I don't think so," Hermione was standing at the bedroom door holding two cups of steaming hot tea and with a livid look on her face, "I could restrict Ron's movements from the other side of the world as long as he was held by that hoop, that was one of the reasons I was so against that bloody ritual in the first place, the bond of blood is an incredibly powerful way to contain somebody. I can be sure that he's safe without being anywhere near him."

"So you'd do that to him would you?" Harry snapped at her, "Bind him and rush out into all sorts of potentially fatal danger with me, risking your life, while he sits at the Burrow bound by your blood. That was another one of your worries wasn't it Hermione? The binder dies while Ron is bound to them and..." Harry's voice was fading into nothing.

Ron could see his lips moving and his face twisting with the frustration of trying to prove a point to Hermione when she was adamant not to listen to it but he couldn't hear a thing any more. He wasn't looking at Harry now either, he was toppling off the edge of the bed and onto his knees, as a warm yellow light swelled in front of his face and he felt icy hands on either side of his face. He could hear Hermione shouting at him now and he could hear himself, he was talking to them but he wasn't at the same time, and he tried to concentrate on a third voice. It was inside his head, almost like a memory. It was almost familiar but not quite.

Deja vu?

"Ron you can control this..." Hermione was still screaming at him.

He didn't want to hear that though, he wanted to hear the voice in his head, he knew it, he knew him. It was almost there, if he could just make out the words then maybe...

"...Your poor mind needs some respite..."

Ron heard him that time. The grey shapeless thing that floated just before him and was gone again. He heard Hermione shouting again but tried to tune her out and find that man again.

I know him, where do I know him from? If only he was a little clearer.

"...fear Miss Granger is about to suffocate you."

He fell forward and extended his arms to hold himself up, he was sweating and panting, and the violent shivering had begun again. What was he doing just now? He was sitting on the bed talking to Harry and then he and Hermione were arguing and now he was really hot...and cold...and somebody was there.

Hermione grabbed him and pushed him back so he was resting against the foot of Harry's bed. Ron only realised that she had touched him after she had let him go. He was too distracted by this weird feeling inside him.

Did I just leave?

Hermione stared into his face and didn't seem to be able to believe her eyes.

"Ron? Oh my God Ron you're ok," she turned to face Harry and gasped, "that should've killed him."

What was she talking about? He only fell off the bed for crying out loud.

"Oracles have a resilience to it," his mother's voice drifted over from the doorway, "It only works on a waxing moon, they won't be able to send you a direct message like that again for another month."

Ron shuddered and tried to speak but nothing came out. His mother had been keeping more secrets from him? This had to stop, he had to know exactly what was going on and what the hell else he had to expect, there was something in the look she was giving him that told him there was one last biggie that she wanted to protect him from and the time for protection was long gone as far as he was concerned. He cleared his throat and tried again as he looked to his mother.

"Mum?"

"Yes dear?"

"What else didn't you tell me about myself?"

The four of them were sitting around the breakfast table listening to Ron's mother telling them the curse of the oracles. They all descended into madness sooner or later unless their gift was kept a complete secret. Every story of a known oracle, every documented case of oracle activity, ended with the subject's irreversible insanity. Ron was going to go crazy and there was nothing he could do about it.

"So the nightmares and the...and how I've been feeling recently, it isn't just about the shock and the stress. I've been going mad little by little?"

"Nearly all oracles go insane if they are used for a prolonged period of time," his mother had nodded sadly.

"What's a prolonged period of time?" Hermione asked.

"More than twenty or thirty consecutive nights of visits, so I've heard," she said with a sigh, "and with things like the viator spell and the spirit being drawn into the body to posses the host the deterioration happens even faster."

"Why didn't you tell us this when you told us about the whole oracle thing in the first place?" Harry said, Ron had never seen this before but he was actually getting a little bit angry with his adopted mother.

Ron's mother looked at him and shook her head in apology.

"I didn't want you to lose hope Ronnie. If you knew you might just give in to it and...stop fighting. You have so much on your mind and I didn't want to add another worry when it's something none of us can do anything about."

"Every cloud has a silver lining Ronnie," she had sighed as she carried him home from the woods on a brilliantly sunny autumn day.

"The black ones don't," he yawned as he looked up at the cloudless sky with tired eyes.

"The black clouds have the brightest lining of all of them sweetheart. Do you know what contrast is Ronnie dear?"

Ron frowned, not another word game, he was sleepy and they had been doing spelling all afternoon. Just because she took him outside didn't make his lessons fun. He would be glad when it was Ginny's turn to learn to read and he would be left alone to do as he pleased.

"There's a turny thing on that muggle box daddy's got that says that, and one that says brightness and one that says colour..."

"Yes yes, well done dear, but I wasn't looking for a word list right now. The thing I asked you was if you knew what contrast meant...hold on," his mother stopped walking and tilted her head back to get a better look at him, "...you read those words off of the box daddy keeps in his muggle cupboard?"

Ron wiped his sleepy eyes and nodded.

"What else did it say?"

"Volume and tuning."

She smiled at him and gave him a hug before walking onward again.

"You really did pick this up fast didn't you? It took forever for me to get the twins to pick up how to read words I hadn't sounded out for them myself before. You're a little prodigy do you know that?"

"Who's he?" Ron frowned.

"Never mind, that can be discussed tomorrow, I was talking about contrast wasn't I?"

"You were talking about clouds," Ron grumbled, mummy was always going on about lots of different things and forgetting the thing he'd asked her about in the first place.

"Yes we were and you told me that black clouds don't have silver linings didn't you? Well they do Ronnie, more so. Just like your eyes aren't any bluer than your cousin Nigel's; except Nigel has sandy coloured hair and you have red coloured hair; and the contrast between the colours make your eyes look as if there's a light on behind them and Nigel's look a little flat. Although I'll thank you not to tell his mother I made that comparison as she thinks her baby boy is the most beautiful thing in the world."

Ron chuckled at his mummy huffing and getting cross with Nigel's mummy.

"Ginny's the most beautiful isn't she? I've heard you tell her."

"Ginny's the most beautiful girl and you are the most beautiful boy, but don't tell your brothers I said so!" his mummy had said while tickling him and making him giggle, "So a black cloud has a much brighter lining than a white one or a grey one you see?"

"So a dark day will mean a sunny day is coming soon?"

"Very good, you might be a poet when you grow up Ronnie, can you think of any more like that?"

Ron thought for a while and remembered one of his daddy's muggle music Frisbees.

"The darkest hour is just before dawn."

His mummy beamed and began to sing to him as she carried him the rest of the way home, while he drifted off to sleep.

"Each night before you go to bed my baby, whisper a little prayer for me my baby, and tell the stars up above this is dedicated to the one I love..."

Ron met his mother's eyes and smiled.

"What's the use of worrying eh? It never was worthwhile."

His mother bit her lip and laughed at him before grabbing him into a hug where he sat that he didn't feel the need to fight against as she sang a familiar tune into his shoulder.

"Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile."

Ron glanced over to Hermione and rolled his eyes.

"Dad's muggle record collection, you wouldn't believe the kind of crap you people used to listen to to ignore the great wizarding war of the forties."

Hermione smiled at him and Ron smiled back at her as he patted his mother on the back and let her know she was forgiven for all her secrets and omissions over the years. If he could he would protect everybody from the truth about himself so he couldn't really blame her for wanting to do the same for him. Hermione turned to glance at Harry who seemed to have been bracing himself for a small explosion rather than a Weasley family sing-along before looking back at Ron and his mother as they parted again.

"Que sera sera eh?" Hermione asked with a sad smile.

Ron watched as his mother's face lit up.

"Oh Hermione that one's my favourite!"

She cupped Hermione's face with her hand and Ron noticed that they were staring at each other in a really strange way before his mother turned back to the kitchen counter and busied herself with making a fresh pot of tea. Ron got up, his chair scraping on the stone floor as he did.

"I don't know why you thought I wasn't prepared for a life of insanity mother, you did name me after crazy uncle Billius after all and that bloke was off his head!" he chuckled.

His mother spun around and huffed with a wide smile.

"Don't let your father hear you saying that Ronald Weasley, he was very fond of batty old Billius, and he wouldn't thank you to bring up his little eccentricities in that derogatory manner."

Ron shrugged.

"All I'm saying is that you jinxed me. I always knew I was destined to be a nutter. In the wizarding world we call a spade a spade and a madman Billius, it's just the way it is."

He was about to laugh when he saw his mother's shoulders falling and her head dropping with them, as she dissolved into tears. Ron grabbed her and gave her another firm cuddle, this one felt even more natural than the last, and he tried to remind her that they were aiming for chirpy denial rather than devastated despair.

"Come on mum, don't do this, we think this is funny remember?" his mother squeezed him a little tighter to her and nodded, this made him feel a little panicky but he didn't want to ruin the point he was trying to make with an anxiety attack, "This is nothing, we're not going to worry about this, and how much more loopy can I get anyway?"

It seemed to do the trick as she loosened her hold on him and chuckled.

"I am surprised you didn't snap sooner, having the twins for brothers and everything," she sniffed, causing Ron to laugh and rub his mother's back, "and I should have sent you to St Mungo's for treatment when I heard about your little stroll in the forbidden forest in the second year."

Ron pulled back from his mother and frowned at the smiling woman who was doing her best to put on a brave face for him.

"How d'you mean?" he asked as he wiped away the tears that had been falling earlier.

"Well any arachnophobe who follows a trail of spiders into the lair of an enormous spider that wants to eat him is really in need of a head examination."

Ron snorted and even Harry was laughing now. Hermione, suddenly rose from the table and ran out of the kitchen in tears. Ron was used to making her cry but this must be something of a personal best for him. He sighed and let his mother go, something she didn't seem to want but accepted all the same, and shrugged as he walked backwards toward the door.

"I s'pose I'd better..."

His mother nodded.

"You go after her, I'll finish making the tea," she smiled.

Ron turned and followed Hermione out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He found her face down on his bed, her face buried into his pillow and her sobs coming from so deep inside her that her whole back arched with each one that was muffled into the pillow, sounding something like a donkey with a head cold.

"What is it with you and my bed eh? You're in it more than me these days," he tried to joke.

She wiped her face on the pillowcase before turning her blotchy face to look at him with her bloodshot eyes.

"Why won't you stop that?"

Ron took a step into his room and closed the door behind him.

"Stop what?"

"Trying to be ok about this. This isn't healthy Ron, this is not the way you're supposed to handle news like that," she strained not to shout at him as she sat up and crossed her legs, clutching the pillow to her as if it was a teddy bear.

"So I'm supposed to handle it the way you are right now?" Ron said, a little cross at being told how to cope, "I'm sick of worrying myself into a state Hermione. Yesterday..." he remembered that he hadn't told her and Harry about his full blown panic attack and collapse, "...well yesterday was worse than I let on and it doesn't help so what's the point in getting myself wound up when it changes nothing?"

Hermione got to her feet and tossed the pillow aside as she stared at him and swallowed.

"You touched your mum."

Ron blinked and shook his head to see if he had missed a chunk of the conversation.

"What?"

"Downstairs, you cuddled your mum, I was just wondering if you could touch people again or if it was just her."

He looked down, he knew what she wanted and he wanted to give it to her but he also knew how intense she could get and how fast, and he knew that holding Hermione wasn't the same as holding his mother.

"Never mind, I shouldn't have asked you, I promised I'd wait until you were ready and not push..."

"No it's not...I was," Ron tried to find a way to explain himself that wouldn't hurt her feelings and he was having more trouble than he would have liked to admit, "I want to, we can, now."

Hermione heaved a thankful sigh and ran to him and he panicked and threw his hands up and took a step back. She stopped in her tracks and looked mortified.

"I'm sorry, I knew I was rushing you, you don't have to force yourself to do this for me."

"I'm not there's just some things we need to clear up first, like rules or dos and don'ts if ya like," Ron said as he took a cautious step forward to show her he was ready.

Hermione nodded her head frantically.

"Whatever you want."

"Right; well I'll come to you," he began and she nodded again and smiled at him reassuringly as he moved closer, "and try not to squeeze too tight and if I say that's enough we stop right away 'cause I don't want to throw you off, I hate it when I do that to you."

Ron looked at her as she gave another nod of understanding and then he looked down at his feet to compose himself and prevent his anxiety levels to rise any more than they already were. He nodded to himself and looked back up at her, taking a deep breath in and out, before taking the final step towards her and curling his arms around her waist. He bent over slightly, he was after all considerably taller than Hermione, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She placed her hands tentatively on his back, going the extra cautious route rather than coiling her arms around him in the usual way she liked to, and slowly moved them around to hold him loosely.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you," Ron whispered into her hair as he gave her a small squeeze.

"You didn't, I was just worried about you that's all," she said before nuzzling gently into his shoulder.

"But the other night when I woke up with you and said all those horrible things..."

"You were scared and tired and...and well," Hermione didn't want to say the rest.

"Damaged?"

She broke away from the hug, Ron knew it was to stop herself from gripping him tightly, and turned away to walk over to the window and stare out.

"I know every one of your secrets now Ronald Weasley," she said huskily as she folded her arms for the sake of having something to hug against herself, "and I love you even more."

Ron's head dropped and he put his hands in his pockets for want of a better thing to do.

"Fred knows, about us I mean," he mumbled to his shoes.

He heard Hermione make a small sound that sounded something like laughter.

"I know, I think everybody knows Ron."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he mumbled again and forced himself to look up.

Hermione had turned around to stare at him, her arms now hanging at her sides and her eyes round and wide.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He swallowed and sat down on the corner of his bed.

"Well from what mum says, and the way this dead guy isn't letting up on me, I'll be gone within a week."

"Don't say that!" Hermione gasped and buried her face into her hands for a second before rushing to sit beside him on the bed and stare up at him with fresh pain setting into her eyes.

"The thing is," Ron began, knowing that this was going to be the hardest thing he had ever had to say to Hermione, even harder than when he told her he loved her, "if we don't make a big deal about being together then it won't be so hard for you when you want to move on."

Hermione looked as if she was shaking with repressed anger.

"You have no idea how much I want to hit you again."

Ron smiled and looked away; he tried not to start picking at his healing fingers again.

"Please look at me Ron," she said with a determined voice.

He lifted his head and took her hand in his, he could tell she was aching for physical contact again and at least thought he owed her that, and looked her in the eye.

"I don't want people judging you for leaving me and getting on with your life. I'm not having us turn into Neville and his parents I can't do that to you."

She squeezed his hand and then loosened it to such a degree that he could barely feel her, he assumed she had corrected her instinct to hold on to him tightly as soon as she had done it.

"If anything happens to you Ron, anything, I will tell everyone I meet from then on that you were mine. You are mine and I will never be ashamed of you."

Ron shook and lowered his head, he'd just told himself he wasn't going to get into a state anymore, he told himself he was going to hold it together and go down fighting, but he couldn't stop the tears pushing their way out and he couldn't let her see him break.

"I'm scared Hermione."

"Me too."

He forced himself to look up at her and saw her own tears mirroring his as they fell unchecked all the way down their faces and dropped onto their clenched hands.

"I don't want to disappear," Ron heard his voice cracking as he spoke.

Hermione flinched and seemed to be holding herself back from something that she wanted more than anything else in the world right at that moment.

"Please let me hug you again."

Ron pulled her forward and they both burrowed their faces into the other's shoulder. This wasn't a loose hug, or a suffocating hug, this was exactly what they needed right now. This was a firm and secure hug. They sat like that for five minutes until Ron's next statement made Hermione pull away and stare at him with a new break in her heart.

"I want you to go with Harry."

"What? No, I can't leave you, I know that I protested when Harry suggested it but that was before I knew, that was before I found out how much time we had left, I can't."

"He needs you Hermione, he'll need you in Wales, he'll need you to defeat Voldemort and..."

"You said his name," Hermione gasped.

Ron shrugged.

"I've got bigger things to be afraid of now."