Angel with the scabbed wings, jaded
Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Harry Potter! Just the plotbunny, it's no longer in a cage:)
He hated his life, he hated everyone in it, everything about it but most of all he hated himself.
It hurt to move, it hurt to cry, and it even hurt to breathe. He had screamed he throat raw a long time ago and pushed himself over his limits two days ago, still it wasn't good enough, it was never good enough, he was never good enough.
He knew they had forgot him, in the joy of victory, who would remember the sidekick? His friends were all inside celebrating the downfall of the maniac who thought he could rule the world.
He rose from the ground groaning when pain shot through his body. He had fought for three days now, just an hour of sleep the first night. The others had kept shifts but he couldn't because if he stopped fighting he would never start again, he had made that as promise to himself.
He licked his by now chapped lips and looked up to the stars that were shining, fitting of them to twinkle on a night like this. His best friend would have a place with the stars even after his death but he himself would never be remembered. Who would think of him? Why would they think of him, he was just the sidekick.
Ron dusted off his robes, even that hurt his bruised and tired body. He slowly made his way to The Three Broomsticks, not to celebrate but to floo home and get in bed. His head pounded and he knew he had blood all over his face. He also knew he had dried tears under his eyes and dirt covering his whole body. But he couldn't be bothered enough to care, all he wanted was rest, to sleep for days.
When he walked inside he didn't notice that it was all complete silence, even though people around him seemed to talk and laugh. He didn't notice that all he could hear was the vibrations of the music, but not the music itself.
Nobody said anything or even looked twice at him when he made it over to the fireplace. He took some floopowder and threw it into the fire, he didn't think about how he couldn't hear himself call out "the burrow" when he stepped inside the fire. All he thought about was his warm bed.
He couldn't hear the screams, didn't hear the thump on the floor when Molly fainted. He knew nothing of that until someone shook him awake, he rubbed his eyes before sitting up. Looking around in the room he saw his whole family standing there, looking at him with concern in their eyes.
He frowned, then he saw Bills lips moving but couldn't hear what he was saying.
"What, I didn't catch that?" He said then fell into shock at being unable to hear his own voice.
Bill spoke again, and still Ron didn't hear a sound.
He could feel the panic rising in his stomach. He didn't se one of the twins run of or come back, he didn't se Bill scribble something on a notepad and almost didn't notice the pad held before his eyes. "Can you hear anything?" The note spelled. He only shook his head as an answer. "You have dried blood on your neck, you gave us one hell of a scare, we thought you were dead!" Ron just looked at him when he read that. "We need to get you to St, Mungus, take a shower and then be ready." Was the last thing written on the notepad before they all got out of his room.
He did as Bill told him too, he took a shower. It felt weird not hearing the water and the thump when he dropped the soap. When he looked down at the tile he saw that the water had a slight dirty pink colour from the mud and blood that was all over his body.
When he had rinsed out the water from his hair new blood followed, fresh blood. He stopped his shower to look in the steam-covered mirror. Wiping it of he soon saw himself with blood running down his neck from both his ears.
The shock settled in and all he could do was dress in a white tee shirt that quickly soaked up the blood, colouring it red on the shoulders and front and pair of mugglejeans. When dressed he walked down to the kitchen were his family sat discussing something he couldn't hear.
He cleared his throat and they all looked up at him, when they saw the new blood that was still making its way out of his ears they all gasped a gasp he couldn't hear.
Bill said something then took the notepad again. "Want us to come with you?" Ron pondered that for a moment then he pointed at Bill. "Just me?" It said on the notepad. Ron nodded. "We need to apparate to St, Mungus, think you're up for it?" Ron just nodded again and apparated away, landing in the apparationroom he waited for Bill to follow.
Once they were in the emergency department Bill went too explain to the nurse at the desk. Ron could see them talking, Bill pointing at him and by the look of the nurse he understood it would take awhile, there were many victims from the war. Bill nodded and then led Ron over to some chairs. It was going to be a long day.