Chapter 28: Despair
Ron sat hunched tight in a corner, his body rocking back and forth jarringly, his fingers clenched tight in his hair as images invaded his brain, making it difficult to breath, hard to see and impossible to think. All he could do was watch hopelessly as he was forced to relive horrible moments in his life. Tears streamed steadily down his raw, bruised face as he was consumed by the emotions that had ruled him at the time of the memory. There was nothing he could do. With out his wand he was powerless to fight off even one Dememntor, but there were two standing guard outside his door and they were brutal in their affects on him.
He was never left alone. They were always there, day and night, standing outside his door. He had no windows, nor any other means of light to see by. He spent his days in total, unforgiving darkness and the only time he found relief from the inky blackness was when the Death Eaters came to drag him bodily from his cell to another part of his prison where he would be tortured further by Draco and other of his Death Eater friends. No sooner would one wound begin to heal then they would reopen it with another brutal beating or well placed hex. They wanted to extract information from him about the order, about Harry, or about the prophesy.
Ron fought them and the depression of situation as best he could, but he was simply no match for the combined affects of the Death Eater beatings and the Demantors constant presences. There was no reprieve. No end to the madness he could fell slowly take hold of his body. His strength was giving out. He could fell his body weakening everyday, making it more and more difficult for him to fight. They hadn't cracked him yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time.
Ron coiled away from the dim glow that appeared in the gap between the door and the floor. They were coming again. Coming to take him away… And he didn't want to go… Not with them… Not again.
Harry stared into the dancing flames of the orange yellow fire, his mind churning painfully with worry and fright. It had been four days. Four days since Dumbledore had brought them to his office and told them Ron had been taken. Four days and still there was no word of where he was, what was being done to him or even if there was a chance they would ever see him again. Despite his obvious personal feelings, Snape was even doing his most to discover what had happened to his pupil, but found the task quiet impossible. There were no friends amongst the Death Eaters and everything was being kept hush about his location.
Harry dropped his head into his hands. Things hadn't been so pleasant here since Ron had been taken either. From the moment students began flooding the school with their arrival, returning days early from their Easter holiday, Hermione, Harry and Ginny had not been able to take two steps without being cornered for information. But the three would have none of it. They were tight lipped and unyielding with information which meant students like Dean Thomas and Colin Creavey were taking the center of attention as they were willing to retell their stories of how they managed to hold off the Death Eaters long enough for help to arrive.
However tight lipped she was, Hermione was the most sought out to retell her story. With in half an hour of students arriving word had spread that Ron Weasley had been taken by Death Eaters and Hermione Granger had been with him when it had happened. Little was known besides that, which made the tale all the more intriguing to the other students. Soon they were hounding her wherever she went. The Common room, the Great Hall, the castle grounds. Not even the Library, which was normally deserted and quite, was sacred anymore having been flooded with curious onlookers. So Hermione and Ginny had retreated to the fifth year dorm, which offered the more sanctity then any other room in the castle, seeing as boys couldn't mount the steps and most girls didn't venture into other years dormitories. A few however, had been daring enough to seek them out but after one heated tongue thrashing from Hermione they never attempted it again.
Harry sighed and leaned his head back against the sofa. And as if Hermione hadn't already had enough on her plate, what with the guilt and anguish she carried over Ron being taken, she was also forced to set her parents down the day after they arrived and explain to them exactly what had been happening in the wizarding world over the past six years and why exactly she had kept the information from them. Harry and Ginny, who had been standing guard outside the hospital wing entrance, ensuring the Grangers were not disturbed, had heard every heated word of it.
After learning that their daughter was a prime target in a wizarding war, not only because of her genealogy, but also because of who her best friends were, they had wanted to pull her out of Hogwarts and send her to live with her aunt in Ireland where they felt she would be safe. Hermione had instantly put her foot down in refusal and had debated the fact with her parents for a good hour and a half before Hermione, in a fit of indignant furry, told them that they would do no such thing seeing as she was seventeen and of age in the wizarding world. She would not leave Hogwarts, she would not leave Harry and Ron and she would not run away to Ireland like a coward. Even if she did run, she tried to explain, Voldemort and his followers would find her there eventually. No, the only way she would ever be safe was if she helped Harry in his attempt to defeat the sadistic bastard and set the wizarding world to rights once again. Otherwise no one would be safe, not in the wizarding world or the Muggle world.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger had left soon after for a safe house while Dumbledore set up safe passage for them to Ireland where they would be staying with the before mentioned aunt. Hermione had tried talking and reasoning with them before they left but it was time wasted. There was nothing to be said that hadn't already been said nor words that could mend the hurt Hermione had inadvertently caused them. She had spent the better part of four hours crying after they left while Harry and Ginny tried their best to comfort her. Though neither of them had voiced their fear out loud, they were both terrified that their friend was about to crack. The break with her parents combined with the loss of Ron was stretching her thin. She hadn't slept well since she had arrived at the castle, never gaining more then two or three hours of fitful night sleep. Her appetite was suffering as well. She couldn't make herself swallow more then two mouthfuls before pushing her plate away calming she was no longer hungry, and dark purple bags and formed under her eyes.
Harry wished desperately that there was something more he could do for her, but there wasn't. He couldn't go after her parents to reason with them, nor could he go after Ron and bring him home for her. All he could do was be there and try to comfort her as best he could.
Then there was Ginny. Harry didn't know what to do about her. He knew she needed him just as much as Hermione did, and he needed her. But she had been drawing away from him, closeting herself away and focusing most of her attention on Hermione so that she could avoid her own feelings. In all honesty he didn't know if he could handle her rejection of him along with everything else that was happening. He so desperately wanted to just take her in his arms and hold her there, both giving and receiving comfort while protecting her…but he knew he couldn't. Now was not the time to act on his feelings toward her. Not with Ron out there somewhere suffering because of him.
Harry's thoughts once again fell on his friend and the tortures he must be suffering on his account. He closed his eyes in hopes of staunching the flow of tears but some escaped to slide silently down his face. Harry didn't even look up when he felt a pair of arms circle his shoulders and draw him into a tight hug.
"Shh…" Hermione soothed, running motherly fingers through his black, disheveled hair. "He'll be alright, Harry." His arms wrapped around her while he buried his face in her shoulder. "He's strong." Her voice cracked as she spoke, revealing her own fear and worry. "He can handle whatever they put him to."
"Neville's parents were strong to." Harry kept his head buried in her shoulder so that he wouldn't have to look up into Hermione's misty eyes. "Lestrange broke them though, didn't she?"
Hermione didn't answer. There was no need. They both knew it to be true. Tears welled in her eyes as her arms tightened around him. She wanted to be strong but Harry crying silently on her shoulder was too much for her. She bowed her head and cried, clinging to Harry seeking the same comfort and support he was trying to draw from her.
Ginny rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she stumbled down the cold stone steps of the girls dormitories. She stepped nimbly on her toes for her feet were bear and each step stung as the stones were as cold as ice. She had woke a few minutes ago sensing instinctually that Hermione was no longer in the bed next to her. When a quick scan of the room confirmed her suspicion she went in search of her friend.
She stopped at the foot of the steps, just out of sight in the shadows where the fires light didn't reach, and took in the sight before her. She felt a sharp, though unexplainable, twinge of jealousy in her breast and the beginnings of anger rising inside her as she watched Harry and Hermione clinging to each other. Logically she knew it was ridiculous for her to feel this way. Harry and Hermione were just friends, and Hermione… everyone knew she was Ron's girl. And Harry…he would never betray Ron like that.
No, that wasn't what was bothering her. She was being excluded again. She could kick herself for letting herself believe that she was as important to Harry and Hermione as they were to her. For the past few months Harry had been spending more time with her then either Ron or Hermione and they had gotten on famously. But now…now when it really mattered, she was passed over again for the others company. When Hermione woke up why hadn't she come to her for comfort? They were close weren't they? She was just as good at listening as Harry was, if not better. And it was her brother that was taken, not theirs. Granted the three of them had been through more together but…she thought maybe last year had changed all that. Apparently not.
Harry caught the subtle movement in the shadows of the staircase and saw the light blue of Ginny's nightgown as she turned to retreat up the stairs. Without hesitation he called out to her. "Ginny!"
She froze with one foot barely skimming the next step, her eyes closing tight together at the sound of his voice. She was hoping that they wouldn't catch her lurking on the stairs. For a moment she considered ignoring him and continuing her climb up the stairs, but knew it would be hopeless. Harry might not be able to follow her but Hermione could and the last thing she needed was Hermione confronting her on why she had run away from them.
Having made her decision, she slowly turned and took the few remaining stairs and stepped off into the common room. Both Harry and Hermione were looking at her now. Harry's arm was still wrapped around Hermione, comfortingly stroking her arm, but his eyes were glued on Ginny. He couldn't take them off her.
She looked ravishing in a nightgown of palest powder blue. She had shrugged on a dressing gown two shades darker then the dress but had left the belt loose so that the front gaped open leaving the expanse of her pale, freckled chest and slim, shapely calves exposed. His eyes lingered a moment on the patch of thigh that was exposed just above her knee. Harry blinked several times and tried to force his throat to swallow, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. He forced his eyes up to hers once again, blinking them several times to try and clear the fetching image that she made. He coughed once to get his voice working and asked, "Why don't you join us?" He removed one arm from Hermione and held it out indicating that she should come and sit within the circle of his arms.
"Oh…no." She shook her head taking a step back toward the stairs. "I just woke up and…when I didn't see Hermione in bed I…I thought I would come keep her company." Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "I'll just…go back to bed."
"No Ginny," Hermione sat up when her friend started to retreat. "Come and join us."
"No," She shook her head causing the strands of copper to fall in front of her eyes. "It's all right. I know you want to be with your friends right now and…well…good night."
"Ginny," Harry released Hermione and bound after the red head, wrapping a hand around her arm to stop her just before she reached the steps once again. "Ginny," he forced her to turn toward him and he saw that there was a tear trailing down her cheek. He reached up and brushed it away. "I thought you were one of my friends." She blinked up at him in surprise. "Come on." He took her hand and pulled her back into the common room and toward the sofa where Hermione was waiting. He sat and wrapped one arm around his brown haired fried while he pulled Ginny down next to him with the other, drawing her tight against his body as he did.
Ginny closed her eyes and savored the brief moment of happiness and contentment. She was in Harry Potter's arms and he was hugging her. He was actually hugging her. She inhaled his scent, committing it to memory before tentatively letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. His body tensed for a moment and she feared that she had gone too far but then his arm tightened further until his hold on her was more secure and the barest smile spread across her lips. She let go of the world and for the time being let herself enjoy what she had and forget what she had lost.
Ginny was startled out of her happy retreat however when Hermione reached across Harry and took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "How are you doing, Ginny? Are you sleeping all right?"
The red head squeezed the other girls hand back. "I'm fine." She sighed. Using her free arm she pulled her robe tight about her, feeling suddenly chilled. "I imagine I'm much the same as you. Going mad with worry…anxiously waiting for news that they've found him. You know?" She shrugged half heartedly.
"Yes," Hermione leaned back into Harry, "I know."
The trio sat there quietly for several minutes staring into the fire. Hermione's head was soon leaning against his shoulder and her and Ginny's breathing was growing heavier, their bodies more limp beside Harry's. He knew they weren't asleep yet, but were on the brink and considered for a moment sending them up to bed where logically they would be more comfortable, but he also knew that they were getting just about as much sleep as he was. And if that were true they desperately needed sleep, and if the only way they were able to do that was if they stayed here with him, then he wasn't going to disturb them. Perhaps if he waited long enough he would be able to find sleep himself.
Feeling the lotharios affects of their combined comfort, the warm fire and the security of their bodies next to his, Harry was just leaning his head to the side to rest on top of Ginny's when he felt Hermione stir. "Dumbledore was right you know."
Her voice was so soft Harry wasn't sure at first if he had heard her but Ginny jerked back from the brink of sleep and lifted her head bumping it against Harry's chin, and groggily turned her head to look at Hermione, blinking several times in the fire light. "What?" she asked dumbly, giving her head a slight shake, pushing the copper strands of her hair out of her eyes.
"I said," she spoke a bit louder and a bit more forcefully," Dumbledore was right." She sat up, pulling free of Harry's arm so that it dropped to the sofa behind her, and turned so that she could better look at her two friends. "Ron is a master strategist. How many times have we watched him clear the board with any opponent stupid enough to go up against him? And look at all the times we've managed to get ourselves into trouble." She flung her arms out for emphasis. "Ron has never once lost his cool. His brain works wonderfully under pressure. And he sees things that we, in our panic, miss."
Harry's eyes scrunched together. "So what exactly are you trying to say?"
Her shoulders sagged and she looked away from the round orbs of her friends eyes. "I'm saying…that it's my fault he was taken."
"Hermione, stop it." Ginny snapped, her temper catching.
"No, it's true." She objected, holding up a halting hand when both Harry and Ginny tried to interrupt her. "Just listen. Ron is a master strategist. He told me to take my parents and go. He told me several times in fact. But all I could think was I can't leave him behind. That would be condemning him to death. But the truth is I don't think he would have tried sending me away if he didn't think he had a way out."
"Maybe," Harry conceded. "But we also know that Ron is willing to sacrifice himself for both of us. I mean how many times has he done that all ready?" Harry started to tick off his fingers. "The chess board, going into the Chamber with me after Ginny, standing up to Sirius…"
"Yes, yes," she interrupted, "I know. But…"
"Hermione stop blaming yourself." Ginny roared with anger. "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. And things are bad enough without you going on like this. So stop it."
Hermione thrust her fingers into her hair with frustration. "I'm sorry." She shook her head aimlessly. "I just… I feel like I'm missing something. Something that will let this all make sense."
"Like what?" Harry leaned forward in his seat, eager for anything that might help him, or rather the Order, to find Ron.
"I don't know." She slumped back in defeat. "I don't know. I just…I know that there's something."
"Damn it!" Harry threw himself to his feet and kicked the leg of a chair that was standing near by, not feeling the pain in his toe but only the anger and frustration that were rising inside him with a vengeance. "I hate this!" He spun around and started pacing the room. "I should be out there looking for him. He's my best friend. It's my responsibility to find him. I…"
"Harry, stop it!" Ginny screamed, taking both Harry and Hermione by surprise. She bound to her feet and jabbed a finger painfully into Harry's chest. "Don't you think for one second of going after him, do you hear me?" Tears stained her eyes until they looked almost black. "I want to go to." She pressed a hand to her chest, "He's my brother and he's my friend. So I understand. But you promised Dumbledore and more importantly my parents, that you wouldn't."
"Ginny," Harry stepped toward her, hand outstretched at the sight of her tears.
"No," she backed away. "You promised. You know Ron wouldn't want you to go looking for him. He understands. We all do. So don't be stupid Harry."
"Ginny I…"
"You too, Hermione." She interrupted, turning on the girl who had remained quiet. "Don't think I don't know you are a heartbeat away from going to look for him yourself. But you mustn't." Tears were pouring down her face in torrents now. "It would be a slap in the face. It would mean that everything that he's sacrificed would mean nothing. And my parents," she pinned her eyes on Harry. "They really do think of you as another son, Harry. And Hermione, you're the closest thing I have ever had to a sister. My family couldn't bear to loose you two as well."
"Ginny," Unable to hold himself back any longer, Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her tight. Ginny wrapped her own arms around Harry's waist and buried her face into his chest while she cried. "Shhh…" he tried to sooth, laying his cheek on the crown of her head. "It'll be all right." He pressed a kiss into her hair before laying his head on top of hers once again. "I promise everything will be all right."
Hermione backed slowly away from her friends and when she reached the base of the staircase she slipped silently up the steps, feeling unworthy to share in their grief. They both claimed it wasn't her fault, but she knew better. If she had done as Ron asked, if she hadn't been a fool since August, he would be there with them now. He wouldn't have needed to sacrifice himself to get her out of there; he wouldn't even have been at her house. And the truth was he was probably going to die because of her. She didn't believe it had happened yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time, and the guilt was unbearable.
She climbed into the bed Dumbledore had conjured into the fifth year dorm for her and pulled the drapes around her bed to block out the cold and the sound of the other girls sleeping. She buried her face deep in her pillow and sobbed heartbreaking, gut wrenching tears.
Ginny opened the door to her dormitory and her ears instantly picked up the sound of her friend crying. Thankful that she hadn't imperviated her bed, the young girl walked quickly toward it, pulled aside the hangings enough to slip through, and steeled herself on the bed next to her friend. She closed the curtains tight before laying down and wrapping an arm around Hermione.
The other girls stiffened and tried to shrug off the other girls arm but Ginny was persistent. "It's not your fault, Hermione."
"It is." She objected through her tears.
"No." Ginny's arm tightened. "It isn't. It's Voldemort's fault. Everything, all of the bad things that have happened to us, they're his fault."
Hermione turned so that her back was to Ginny. She curled into a tight ball and waited. Though for what she wasn't certain. Finally after several minutes of the two lying there quietly she ventured to ask. "Ginny…do you still hate me?"
The red head girl tensed with surprise. Slowly she sat up into a sitting position and stared at her friend, with wide, round eyes. "I never hated you."
Hermione rolled over and sat up as well. "Yes you did." She looked down at her lap so that her hair fell in her face, hiding her emotions behind the natural screen. "You told me you did on Christmas."
"Hermione," Ginny placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I never hated you. I was angry with you, yes." She shook he head for emphasis. "But I never hated you."
"I wouldn't blame you for hating me." She persisted, shifting uncomfortably while wrapping her arms around her chest. "All I do is cause problems for your family. First Fred and George and now Ron. And I've hurt Ron so badly. I've made him miserable for so long. I…Like I said, all I do is cause problems for your family."
The two sat there a minute without speaking. Finally Ginny scooted closer and wrapped another arm around Hermione, refusing to release her when she tried to pull away. "Do you want to know what else you could do?" she waited a moment to see if Hermione would answer but when she remained silent Ginny went on. "You could make Ron very, very happy."
"Ginny…I…"
"I'm not going to tell you how to live your life Hermione. There are things you and Ron have to work out for your selves. And I honestly do believe that you and Ron will have a chance to work them out. He's strong and just about as stubborn as you, if not more. He's not going to let you win this fight. He'll be back to finish it."
"How do you know?" Hermione bowed her head to look at her twiddling thumbs. "I thought he already gave up the fight and let me…you know…let me win."
"Oh, I think he thought he did to." The ginger haired girl released her friend and gave her arm a comforting pat before she climbed out of the bed and went to her own.
"Ginny!"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Thank you." She smiled sadly at her friend. "I don't know what I would do without you."
Ron hung suspended between two Death Eaters. He hadn't the strength to move himself and so was being drug back to his cell. His head lolled forward uselessly, gravity pulling his once bright red hair into his eyes, the strands caked in grease, blood and dirt.
His body sagged toward the ground, his back bowed, his feet dragging worthlessly behind him. He had no strength to move his limbs. He had tried in vain to take a few steps on his own, but had collapsed from the effort.
His skin was shallow and pasty, his severe loss of blood the cause. Everyday they invented a new means of torture to use on him. Today he had been strapped to a pillar and his back had been battered with spells for more then an hour, the pale skin slowly giving way to a multitude of colors. His back was now a pallet of blacks, blues and purples and in some places sickly shades of yellow and green. They hadn't ceased their torment until finally the flesh had given way to welts and then lacerations. His body was sticky with blood and sweat when they put his shirt back on him and he knew there would be unbearable pain when next they tore it off him.
At last they came to the end of the hallway where his holding cell was located and the two thugs dragging him, tossed his body unceremoniously inside so that he landed in a painful heap on his back. He bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain as they left, one of them stopping to sneer before closing the door on him. Ron closed his eyes as he listened for the turn of the lock in the door and the retreat of footsteps. When he was sure they were gone, he let the tears come and using the last of his strength pulled his shirt over his head hoping to remove it before it dried to his skin. He cried out as the fabric was pulled away and some of the wounds were reopened.
He breathed deep for several minutes, trying to breath his way through the pain and stop the tears rolling down his sunken cheeks. He would be damned if he was going to let the sick ass holes know that they had gotten to him. He whipped his tears away before rolling over onto his stomach and opening his eyes. The room was bathed in darkness once more. They had taken the light and his only chance for escape.
Mustering his strength for another battle he began to pull himself across the small sell to the corner where the dirty pile of hay rested. Every muscle in his body protested in agony. His limbs felt useless and heavy, the muscles like marmalade. He clutched his right hand protectively to his chest, the bones still shattered from when they were crushed under Malfoy's boot.
The process was slow, but finally he managed to pull himself into the corner and curl into a tight ball, making certain that his back would not touch the wall or the bed of straw and waited. Any moment now he knew he would feel the penetrating cold and overwhelming helplessness that accompanied his Dementor guards' presences.
He could only fight of their affects for so long. Eventually it would always happen. The worst moment…the one he feared even more then when they came to take him from his cell. That one moment when despair took root and he was sane enough to realize that he was loosing his mind and knew he was helpless to do anything to stop it.
Ron cringed when he felt the first icy cold fingers of despair creep over him. They were coming. He curled reflexively into a tight ball in a vain attempt to protect himself from the Dementors's affect. Images began to invade his mind, becoming more and more bleak as the creatures drew closer to his door. Ron fought with the last of his strength, but their affect was too great. With a moan of despair he lost and was left sobbing alone in his dark, cold, damp cell.
