Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her publishers. I get nothing from this (except derisive laughter). Don't sue me, please.
Ron returned to his usual work, pub, and pass out routine for the next week. On the following Saturday, Ron awoke to Harry yanking him out of bed with a levicorpus spell.
"Whazza going on?"
Harry let Ron down with a thud. "Your mum has taken Hermione to the park for a few hours. You and I have to talk. Have you noticed a change in Hermione's behavior this week?"
"No."
"I wouldn't imagine so. By the time you get here each night you are usually too pissed to walk. For your information, she has been laying around sulking all day every day. She hasn't looked at her books all week. She won't respond to any questions I ask her. Do you have any idea why this may be so?"
Ron's ears turned bright pink. "Ugh, I kind of came home pissed with a woman I picked up at the pub the other night. She asked what an otter was doing here, and I kind of said that she was your pet."
Harry voice became slow, low, and deliberate. Ron wished he'd just yell at him, because this was worse.
"Ron. You are going to do some things. First, I don't want you too see me or Hermione for a month. You are going to move out temporarily and clean up your drinking and self destructive behavior. I hope you can remember your friends and what they mean to you. If you clean up your act, you can come back and try again here. Otherwise you are out permanently."
"How and I supposed to act? Our best friend is an otter. What the bloody hell am I to do with an otter?"
"Ron, you are a prat. That is not an otter. That is Hermione. You just need to be her friend. She needs you to be her friend. She can understand you when you talk to her, although she can't talk back. Spend time with her. Let her know you still care. It's not that hard." Harry took in a breath. "I'll be back in an hour. You will not be here."
- - - - -
Ron lay on the bed in his old room at the Burrow. He stared at the ceiling counting the marks left by the Spell-o-tape that held up the Chudley Cannons posters that now resided at the flat. He pushed the though away. He didn't want to think of the flat or anything in it.
Molly Weasley entered the room, carrying a small box.
"You've been here a week Ron. You really haven't talked about what is going on."
"You know what's going on, Mum. That's why Fred and George ignore we when they're here, and Ginny won't return my owls."
"Your father and I know what has been going on in your life. Don't think he didn't hear anything through the Ministry rumor mill. But you are halfway through the leave he got you from the Ministry, and I don't think you have sorted anything out."
"Mum, please stop with that. I've been de-gnoming the garden, trimming the hedges, and taking care of the leaves. The work allows me to get my mind off things. I don't have to think."
"But you need to think, Ron. You need to figure out who you are again." She pulled something out of the box and handed it to Ron. "Look at this."
It was a photograph of himself, Hermione, and Harry at Hogsmeade station at the end of their first year. He was trying to give rabbit ears to Harry while Hermione tried to stop him. Ron thought of how innocent they were and how simple life was then.
"I've always loved that one," Molly said. "I can't believe how much you have grown.
She pulled out another photograph. This one showed Hermione in the common room attempting to study while Ron tried his best to distract her.
"Honestly, Ron. Did you ever give her a break?"
"Mum, that's what I was trying to do. Get her to take a break. If it wasn't for Harry and me, she never would have done anything but study."
Next was a photograph of Hermione in her Yule Ball gown with Krum.
"Didn't she look beautiful then?" Molly asked.
Ron glared at Krum, grunted, and tossed the picture aside. "Any others?"
"Oh there are lots. I'll just show this last one to you and then I'll leave you"
It was a picture of Ron and Hermione dancing at Bill and Fleur's wedding. They were smiling and giggling like 12 year olds. It was their last day of peace before the Horucrux hunt began. The Hermione in the picture kept looking at him with her big brown eyes. How he loved those eyes. He sorely missed those eyes.
Molly spoke again. "I wanted you to see the past, so you could think about your future. I know you have looked at her as more than a friend for some time."
"It doesn't matter. If she ever recovers, she would want someone smarter and more sophisticated than me. Even if she did want me before, I've ruined it. I called her a pet in front of some women I met in a pub. She'd never forgive me." He put his head in his hands.
"Ron, start to fix it. At least try to gain her friendship back. You don't want to lose that totally, do you?"
"No."
"So rebuild things. Use the next weeks to get yourself back together, so you can repair your friendships with Hermione and Harry."
Ron returned to work in a week. He stayed out of the pubs, returning to the Burrow after work every day for dinner with his parents. No excuses were given to his co-workers; he just said he didn't want to drink every night any more. He found that his job was much easier and fun when he wasn't hung over from the night before.
But a much more difficult task awaited him: returning to the flat to face his friends.