Helpless
The owls arrived just as Ron was dumping his breakfast things into the sink and rinsing off his sticky hands. Before the red envelope even touched the table, Harry ripped it away from the owl's leg and sprinted for the back garden with the smoking Howler in hand. He got a certain distance away and then Disapparated with it so Ron wouldn't be able to hear the vile taunts and abuse as they exploded from the Howler.
Charlie clenched his jaw angrily.
Some people were scum. Ron had laughed the first couple of Howlers off and said something about Hermione's hate mail after the Rita Skeeter article when they were at school but he couldn't stand the thought that there were people out there cruel enough to call Ron a 'Death Eater lapdog' and 'an abomination to wizard-kind.' They weren't all like that, though. There was nothing quite like receiving a Howler over breakfast, bacon partially chewed in your mouth, which bursts into judgemental damnation on Ron for choosing to eat human flesh rather than die like a man.
How could people abuse or resent Ron for surviving? Charlie wished he could put up a defensive wall around his brother that blocked out abuse. He scowled into his mug of tea as he thought about how he could resolve the Howler issue. He'd need a filter to get rid of all the post Ron didn't need to see.
"Any for me?" Ron said with a small smile as Ginny and her mother shuffled through the pile of letters and threw one in every five to the addressee.
"Prophet wants an exclusive," Ginny muttered to herself as she dropped another letter onto the growing pile in the middle of the table. "Freelance reporter wants to write a book…invitation to dinner at the Ministry for a public relations stunt…restraining order from somebody you've never met who thinks you want to eat her baby..."
"Ginny!" her mother snapped. "There's no need to read them out!"
"I'm reading them out to point out how ridiculous they are, Mother!" Ginny said as she scattered a handful more unopened letters addressed to 'The Cannibal' onto the pile.
"Any m-more from people who want naked pi-pic-pictures?" Ron joked unconvincingly.
Everybody pretended they hadn't heard him. There was a persistent freak who kept writing letters about touching Ron and how they knew he'd like it. Some warped, kinky witches and wizards were making lewd propositions ever since the rumour got out that Ron had been the Death Eaters' sex slave and most of them got off on asking him for details on what was done and all of them thought Ron needed to know exactly what they wanted to do to him themselves.
The family did almost as much to protect Molly from those letters as they did Ron. She had opened one a few weeks ago that had been horrifically graphic and even had magically animated sketches. She had cried until her husband had forced her to down a sleeping draught. Charlie had been arrested twice for beating up people who made sure he overheard them expressing their opinion that Ron had got off on it and liked all sorts of deviant rough stuff.
The family was in limbo. They didn't know what was appropriate. Should they laugh when Ron and Lee joked about the horrors? Should they try to get them to talk? Should they talk about what they went through while they were waiting for news in the Embassy all that time?
Most of all, Charlie was torn up over if and when he should sit down and talk to Ron about the circumstances of the Puppet Master's death at his hands. Ron hadn't spoken about how he'd killed the Death Eater in the woods, only that he'd had to keep on beating the man long after he'd died to make sure the face was disfigured enough to be totally unrecognisable. Charlie drew in a heavily loaded breath and let it out as he watched his little brother wipe his hands on a dish towel and turn around to lean against the kitchen counter and watch his mother fuss around over his unwanted mail. They caught each other's eye from a moment and shared a small smile.
"Azkaban?" Ginny frowned.
Charlie and Lee both leapt up from their chairs and grabbed at the letter, but Ginny twisted away from then and tore the envelope open with a curious frown.
"Ginny, I know what that is…give it here and we'll burn it with the rest of 'em," Lee said anxiously.
"I'm getting letters from Azkaba-ban?" Ron stammered as he leaned forward to read over Ginny's shoulder.
"No!" Charlie yelled and ripped the letter from his little sister's hands and set about shredding it into pieces.
"Charlie, what do they wa-wan-want?" Ron fixed his brother with a strong stare to compensate for his unsteady speech.
"It's stuff they shouldn't be bothering you with and it's stuff I'm dealing with so you don't have to," Charlie said firmly.
Ron turned his gaze on Lee as if he expected a less defensive response from his trusted, former cell mate.
"Are you getting letters from the p-prison?" Ron asked.
Lee shook his head.
"Do you know what that letter was about?" Ron said as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Yeah," Lee nodded.
"W-Well?" Ron raised his voice just as Harry returned from getting rid of the Howler, finger waggling in his ear as he came through the door.
"One of the Death Eaters is sending you visiting papers," Lee said as he rubbed his hand up and down Ron's arm and winced apologetically.
Ron looked utterly shocked at this news and seemed to be trying to understand the motivation for such a thing.
"Why?"
"Um," Harry said as he caught on to what was going on and approached Ron and tried to rest his hand upon his shoulder, Ron ducked away and pulled back from the both of them.
"Why does a Death Eater want me to come and see him in p-p-prison?" Ron demanded.
"We don't know, but we're bloody damned if we're going to let him pester you for the sake of some sick game," Charlie said confidently. "Dad's looking into some way to stop him harassing you at the Ministry."
"D-Dad knows?" Ron exclaimed. "You all know and you," Ron glared at Lee, "even you, ke-kept this from me."
"Ron, it's just another piece of junk mail like all the others, like I get and Fergus gets and Tommy gets every day."
"This is di-di-diff...FUCK!" Ron kicked at an empty chair and barged out of the kitchen and through to the living room.
Charlie tried to tell the others to wait in the kitchen while he went after him but Lee was already on his knees before Ron as he sat in a tatty armchair muttering to himself in Dutch.
"Ron?" Lee dipped his head to try and force Ron to meet his eyes.
"Waarom laat je me niet alleen?"
"English, Ron, come on," Lee was rubbing his hands up and down against Ron's knees soothingly. "You can talk in English without messing it up if you just relax for me, okay?"
"Misschien ben ik wel een van hen," Ron said as he stared into the empty fireplace.
"Ron!" Lee shouted as he clicked his fingers in front of Ron's face. "Stop it, now!"
Ron blinked and looked into Lee's wide brown eyes. He opened his mouth and paused before shaking his head despondently and closing it again. Charlie watched as Harry peered round from behind him, as Lee sat on the arm of the chair and rubbed Ron's back until the redhead sighed and ran a hand over his hair and nodded.
"M'fine."
"Say McGonagall's magical marshmallow muff," Lee ordered, a wicked glint in his eye.
Ron stared up at Lee and then snorted with laughter and gave him a playful shove off the arm of the chair. Lee landed on his backside heavily and gave an amused exclamation before Ron got out of the chair and offered Lee a hand up. Lee grabbed hold and was heaved back to his feet with a grunt.
"McGonagall's magical marshmallow muff made merry for many a man!" Ron said proudly.
"Bloody hell!" Charlie gasped.
"Speech," Ron said before crunching up his face, pausing, and then beginning again, "Speech therapy."
"That's what you do in speech therapy?" Ginny giggled.
"S'either that or...or singing!" Ron said with a little wince at his enforced repetition.
Charlie liked repetition though, that meant the stuttering was under control and calming down again.
He could feel her eyes on him as he gulped down his glass of pumpkin juice in one.
"I waited fer yeh to come home, Fergus."
"I didn't ask yeh to," he mumbled as he set the empty glass down on the table and began scooping up a mound of beans with his partially burnt toast.
"I gave up at four," his mother said as she sipped at her tea. "I decided that you're a grown man and you don't need yer ma waiting up for yeah and went ta bed in the end."
"Ma, are we havin' this conversation fer a reason?" Fergus said, looking at her with heavy eyelids and dark circles beneath his eyes.
"I'm just explainin' to yeh why I'm not goin' teh bother with yeh any more. Y'don't want fuss, y'don't want nagging, and I'm sick of hearing myself wastin' my breath so I'm just letting yeh know why it's goin' ta stop from now on." She sniffed tetchily and drummed her fingers against the side of her teacup while peering at him over the rim.
"Well, thanks fer the information, Ma. I'll be sure to post an announcement in the papers so everybody knows I now have me bollix back."
The bang shook his brain loose and he groaned and winced and his mother slammed her palms down onto the table and rose up from her chair.
"Julie's boy is takin' more care of her than she is of him!" she snapped down at her cringing son. "Floella's Lee is up early every day to go to take care of poor Ron. Molly tells me that boy steels himself every morning to give her a cuddle when we all know what bein' touched reminds him of."
"So what is it, Ma?" Fergus said angrily. "Yeh want a bleedin' cuddle, is that it? Do yeh want me to set yer feet on a pouf and do the dustin'? Shall I go and crowd 'poor Ron' more than the bloody fella is already? He suffocatin' in that bleedin' cotton wool they've got him wrapped in and Lee's never with his bloody mother and now I'm understandin' why!"
Marie Finnigan silently seethed and snatched up a pile of open letters and threw them across the table at Fergus.
"Throw them in the fire with the rest of 'em," he said darkly as he turned his attention back to his food.
"Oh, I can't throw those ones away, Fergus," his mother said, voice getting louder and louder as she towered over him in his seat. "These are claims for reimbursement for damages. These are unpaid debts at every pub in Hogsmeade that'll still have you. These are fines from the Ministry for drunk and disorderly behaviour!"
"That's getting overturned and you know it!" Fergus said as he jumped up out of his seat and leaned across the table, both palms flat on either side of his plate. "What am I supposed to do when some ignorant bastard makes jibes about me an' the lads? What am I supposed to do when they say Colin died because he was an idiot and Dean Thomas died trying to run away? What am I supposed to do when they say I let one of me mates get molested so I could eat and drink?"
His mother fixed her eyes with his fiercely and spoke in a low hiss.
"You are supposed to walk away and leave them with their ignorance, Fergus."
"Walk away?" Fergus gaped in shock and disgust at the very suggestion. "Walk away!"
He had been about to walk away when the big rum-smelling slob had banged his chest against him and sneered into his face.
'While you were escaping what were they doing, eh?'
'Fuck off!'
'I know you know what they were doing, just like we all know what they were doing. I heard about that trial, Paddy, tried to keep it all quiet so nobody would find out what you lot did but I know!'
'They kept the trial small outta respect fer the dead and you should think about that before yeh open yer trap now get out my feckin' way!'
'Respect for the dead?' he laughed and wobbled at the same time, 'The ones they killed or the ones you lot killed?'
'Shut yer mouth.'
'I heard it was Viktor Krum who killed that prat Creevey.'
'I'm warnin' you.'
'Krum murdered Creevey and Weasley murdered Krum.'
'Viktor Krum and Ron Weasley put gobshites like you to shame now get outta my way before people add me to the list of people from those cells who've killed.'
'At least Krum's dead now, I dunno why Weasley doesn't Avada Kedavra himself personally...a Death Eater getting beaten to death for survival's sake is one thing but sending the Killing Curse at the greatest Quidditch player in Europe by accident-"
Fergus had hit him to shut him up. He had hit him and hit him and hit him until a barman stunned him and he woke up in a holding cell with a very tired looking Kingsley Shacklebolt shaking his head and muttering about hot-headed Irish temper.
"You do yeh friends no service by caving in the heads of people who call 'em names," Fergus' mother said sternly.
"Names like murderer?" Fergus asked her darkly.
"It does no one any good if you react like a madman to being called a madman, my boy."
"I won't have people sayin' stuff about Tommy fakin' being ill to get away without torture," Fergus growled. "I won't have people sayin' Lee used his best mates little brother as a shield to hide behind and I won't stand fer people callin' Ron a murderer or a loony or...or...he never gave that bastard what he wanted, Ma. He never prostituted himself for a stay of feckin' execution and I can't turn the other cheek when some gobshite with a friend of a friend of the auntie of the tea lady at the canteen who passed by the Wizengamot for half a second during the trial and overheard two words decides to front up to me and call my friend a whore!"
The whole time Ron was talking to Lee, he kept feeling eyes on him and looking over his shoulder to see Harry quickly looking away.
It wasn't the same kind of feeling he got when he knew the Puppet Bastard was looking at him but it would still unsettle him slightly to know he was being watched. He knew that Harry was simply being protective, reminding himself how much he watched Harry after what happened to him when he was dragged away from the maze with Cedric and after he lost Sirius in the Department of Mysteries, but he really wished Harry didn't keep doing it.
"Are you listening to me?" Lee frowned as he gave Ron a nudge in the shoulder.
"Sorry, what?" Ron blinked.
Lee gave him a resigned smile; he was used to Ron's mind wandering at the drop of a hat these days.
"I said, do you want to come to Tommy's place with me to talk to him about Fergus? I think we're the only ones who are going to be able to defuse his time bomb."
"Yeah," Ron nodded, still somewhat distracted, "when?"
"Ron, are you sure you're all right?" Lee asked him as he examined Ron's face for any tell-tale signs.
"Fine," Ron smiled and nodded. "I'm fine, I just think..." Ron swallowed and looked back over his shoulder, catching Harry looking away again and then turned back to Lee and raising his eyebrows, "I'll come along in a little while, okay?"
Lee understood and looked over Ron's shoulder at Harry, smiling broadly.
"I'm off, Harry, I'll see ya later." He waved.
"Oh, right," Harry called back, slightly startled at being involved in what he must have believed to be a secret conversation. "Yeah, bye, Lee."
"You wanna come with us?" Ron asked, eyebrows raised.
Harry shook his head.
Ron waved Lee off and turned to look at Harry thoughtfully. Harry shifted uncomfortably under Ron's gaze.
"What?" he asked, eyes shifty.
"Are you looking at me?" Ron asked his best friend bluntly.
"Well, yeah, I like to look at people when I'm talking to them." Harry shrugged.
"No, I mean are you looking at me?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry blinked back at him, "I'm not not looking at you if that's what you mean."
"Well, you're looking at me now because I'm the only one here but before..."
"Ron, have you been watching Taxi Driver?" Harry interrupted.
"I'm not watching anyone," Ron exclaimed in confusion, "Y-You're the one who's watching me!"
"I'm not watching you!" Harry protested.
"Every time I turned around, you were looking away!"
"How do you know I was looking away and not just looking in the opposite direction?"
"Because I saw you look-looking!" Ron huffed, throwing his arms into the air and laughing.
Harry smiled with embarrassment and slumped against the door of the larder.
"Sorry."
"I didn't say I was annoyed about it, I just," Ron shrugged and leaned sideways against the doorframe on the opposite side of the kitchen to Harry, "you don't have to worry about me. I'm okay."
"I know you are," Harry said sincerely.
"You're not okay though, are you?" Ron winced and tilted his head at an angle. "Did I do something, other than punch you, to upset you today?"
Harry drew in an unsteady breath and shook his head firmly.
"You've not done anything to upset me, don't you ever worry about that. I just...I just miss you, well not you, us, you and me being close like we were. I miss how it used to be, like you and Lee are now, and I just...I just miss it but I understand why you need him."
"I need you, too," Ron said, amazed that Harry felt he was useless to Ron now that Lee was in the picture.
"Look, it's fine," Harry smiled and shrugged. "Lee and the others will be waiting for you. You'd better go."
"Harry," Ron began.
"I have things to do today so we can talk when you get back if you want, okay?"
"Oh," Ron blinked. "Okay. I'll tell Tom and Fergus you said 'hi.'"
"Yeah, do that. Have a good afternoon, mate." Harry grinned and waved at Ron before practically running out the back door.
A/N Now before you get excited I WON'T be updating on a daily basis! I have a set plan to post a new chapter every Mon, Weds and Fri until we reach the end (which will be before Deathly Hallows comes out). The reason I posted yesterday was that chapter one wasn't ready on Monday!
Back on track now so I'll see you all on Friday.