A/N: I just saw an update request as I was uploading this. Here you go Ron'sLoverMahima.
Chapter 55: Healing Together
It was her whimpering that woke him up from the light slumber. The sunlight seeping in through the gaps in the curtains was enough to make the surrounding visible, which clearly meant that he had not been asleep for very long, perhaps a little more than Hermione though.
He turned to his left with difficulty noting that somehow his hand was no longer held between hers. Hermione lay curled on her side, and even though she seemed to be fast asleep, her body shook with every small whimper that escaped her lips. Her forehead was marked with deep worry lines. The agonised expressions on her face a clear indication that she was caught in some kind of a nightmare.
He was just about to wake her up when her sobs got louder and she thrashed around as if invisible arms were restraining her from reaching out to someone.
"NO!" she sobbed as tears escaped her still closed eyes, "Please! Please! Don't hurt him!" she pleaded leaving him utterly shocked at the amount of distress and agony behind those words. Managing to turn around with much difficulty, he placed his arm on her shoulder.
"Hermione," he called softly as she continued to thrash around, her cries getting louder by the minute.
"PLEASE NO! RON!" she screamed hard as her body shook with tremors, and ignoring the intensive ache that tore through his aching muscles, Ron pushed himself up and placed both his palms on her face. Tears were pricking his eyes and threatening to escape but he held on. He took a deep breath before bringing his face closer to hers.
"Shhh...'Mione... It's okay, we are safe now, it's okay," he consoled hoarsely.
His voice was throaty and it ached to speak but he couldn't care less about himself. Her arms frayed till it touched his wrists, and Ron just about managed to hold back from wincing aloud as her fingers clasped hard over his sensitive skin. His touch seemed to soothe her and he decided a little more pain would not make much of a difference, especially if it helped Hermione in any way.
"Ron," she whimpered again, but softer this time, and he rubbed his thumb on her cheeks, wiping away the moisture from them.
"I'm right here, with you...Relax..." he murmured in her ears and continued to hold her till the tremors died down and her breathing normalised. Only when he was sure she was fast asleep once more, he let her go, moving back to a position where his back hurt marginally less. But he allowed her to hold on to one of his hands and taking in the sight of her tired face, let out a sigh.
The effect of the potion that Fleur had given to him after Hermione had fallen asleep was beginning to wane. He knew because the burning sensation in the wound on his chest was coming back. A little longer, perhaps a few more hours, and it would start bleeding- at least that is what she had told him. The potion they had given earlier had reacted with something to turn it toxic, so much so that without Hermione's quick thinking, he would have been dead by now. Though the spell had effectively stopped the poison from spreading, restricting it within the wound and its vicinity, it was still present in his system. The potion his Mum had sent was supposed to help flush the toxins out of his body- with a generous amount of his blood of course.
But the worst was over; at least his sister-in-law had told him as much. He let out a mirthless chuckle at those words. He looked at the sleeping girl again. She looked bone tired and weak. He knew she would not have slept for days now, and even when she did, her dreams were surely marred with nightmares ever present to haunt her. That was inevitable considering what they had gone through, and he wished someone would know how to heal these injuries that were marked into their very bones. While the external ones were being treated, the ones that could not be seen were left to fester and grow.
He could not help compare her to the glowing girl who had been rescued by the Order almost a couple of years ago. The war had taken a toll not just on her mind but her body as well. She had lost weight and the pink hue that used to grace her cheeks was now replaced with deep circles under her eyes. Her hair was a mess, tired carelessly in a bun. She looked so fragile that it hurt him more than all his wounds put together.
His mind went back to the moments after their capture. Even now his blood boiled remembering the taunts and jeers the filthiest of men had thrown at her. He couldn't even begin to imagine the fate she had escaped by an inch. Ron knew the frustration and rage for not having knocked the living daylights out of those bastards would haunt him for all eternity. And then there was his torture.
His plan, more importantly, her acting skills might have saved his life but it came with a heavy price. And it came as an eye-opener. All those doubts that plagued his heart during the start of the hunt felt like grumbling of an immature heart. What did he face? Just a couple of Voldemort's goons and his lieutenant, perhaps? But Harry had no choice but to defeat the evilest wizard himself or die in the process. True that all of them were in the heart of the war, and predicting the number of people who would survive was downright impossible, but finishing it was a burden only Harry had on his shoulder. Hermione and he could help and walk with him till the end, but eventually, Harry would have to travel the last steps alone. For once he really understood the truth of the deal that they had been dealt with. A breath seemed to be caught in his chest adding to the pain. All these years of trying to keep the kid safe and now they were tenaciously taking him towards what could easily be his doom. And why? For the greater good. For every Horcrux they found and finished, Harry was a step closer to dealing with what he had just been through, quite possibly worse. There would be no shield to guard him, no lie to keep him safe. Isn't that what the Prophesy said, that Harry would have to be the one to finish Voldemort? He had a fleeting image of taking his best mate and running away to some far-off land and he let out a low mirthless chuckle. Like that was even possible.
He glanced once again at the face he loved to the point of insanity before turning away.
The last shield guarding her had been thrown away too. Harry had told him how she had fought her way out of the Manor. If anything, it would have only made the Death Eaters even more thirsty for her blood now. He looked at his partly healed, weakened self. How would he keep them out of harm's way unless he got up and was ready to fight again? Whatever they had faced was only just the beginning, it would be foolish not to know that.
How much his torture had affected her was open for anyone to see. He felt terribly small remembering all that he felt earlier about his position in the quest. Now it seemed like Dumbledore had left him the easiest job, something he would have done anyway- keeping his best mate safe, keeping the girl he loved safe. Would he have survived if the situations were reversed? Would he have managed to keep his cover if Bellatrix had been torturing her instead? His heart thudded so madly at the thought that he sat up despite all his aches and turned towards her. Every ache, every burn was better than that thought. Physical pain he could take, heck, he could even take death, but he would not survive if they took her.
He placed his free hand delicately on her forehead and pushed aside the curl that fell on her face and placed a tender hand on her cheek. Watching the mesmerising motion of the rise and fall of her chest he exhaled a sigh that hurt somewhere beyond his physical self.
She was safe, she was breathing. They had not been able to touch her or...
Yes, she was broken but he would see to it that she healed. He would do whatever it took to make her well again. He would be whatever she wanted him to be, he would hold her till everything that was broken within her mended.
Ron watched as Hermione scooted closer to him let out a soft, satisfied sigh as their bodies touched; he let out a breath that was almost the same as hers. He wondered why he had never felt this sensation before, or perhaps he had but his self-doubts had overshadowed it. The touch soothed his soul. Hermione seemed to be radiating a feeling of comfort that was beyond anything he had felt in a long time. It was like a fresh breeze that healed the deepest wounds of his heart. Her touch was familiar, almost like a part of himself he had been searching for all this while- it was like coming home. He sighed softly and lay down next to her, and despite all his aches and burns, sleep claimed him soon after.
...
It was much later in the night and the house was silent when Ron woke up to intense pain in his chest. A lone candle was burning in the candle stand that was placed on the dresser. The light kept the darkness out but only barely.
He tried breathing through his mouth and had to eventually resort to clamping his knuckles between his teeth when nothing else helped. His breath was beginning to come out in gasps as the searing sensation aggravated, leaving him no choice but to pull his left hand out of Hermione's arms.
She was still fast asleep next to him. She fidgeted a little at the loss of contact, her brows scrunching before she relaxed once more, and he watched with baited breath, absolutely unwilling to wake her up. Finally, certain that he had not disturbed her sleep he pulled off the sheet that covered his torso and looked down. Sure enough, the medicated gauze that covered the wound on his midriff was blood soaked.
"Fucking hell," he muttered silently and placed his aching legs on the floor. His knees hurt, perhaps not as much as his other wounds, but still sore enough to make him worry about their capability to hold his weight up if he somehow achieved the daunting task of pulling himself up on his feet.
He could perhaps stretch and reach the table that held his healing potions, he thought, but it was seriously doubtful that he would manage that without causing more harm to his already injured muscles.
Using the bed as leverage, he pushed himself up on his wobbly legs, and inched towards the table, one agonising step after another. The pyjama bottoms he wore, although soft, but still somehow managed to irritate the recently healed skin as it rubbed over them. It was frustration on a totally different level. Each step he took seemed to tear the muscles in his legs and cause a definite shortness of breath, but he edged on. A few steps more and he would be able to dab the ointment Fleur had left at the table for this very scenario. The short-lived moment of vindication gave way to a groan as his legs buckled the moment he reached the spare chair and he swore loudly both at his clumsiness as well as the pain that almost knocked him out. However, before he hit the ground, two hands managed to catch him.
"Did you really need to do this alone?" admonished Harry, helping him towards the bed.
"Hey, when did you get here?" he asked wincing slightly and groaned again when he heard a small gasp from his left.
"Ron?! What are you doing?" Hermione asked in a voice laced heavily with sleep although she was currently sitting straight up.
"Bloody hell, I take a few steps and wake up the entire household, I feel like a dumb kid or something," he grumbled and Harry chuckled.
"You got the last part right, mate," he snickered and Ron glared at him for a moment before grinning back himself. Hermione, however, let out an impatient sound and then clambered down in front of them, pulling her hair back in a bun while holding her wand between her teeth.
"What happened?" she inquired stuffing the wood inside her pocket, her brows crunched in worry.
"Ron was practising ballet to impress you," snorted Harry and Ron swatted him on the head, wincing immediately.
"Oi!" barked Harry, grinning, although the proof of days of exhaustion was blandly visible on his features.
Hermione shot both of them a glare that was freakishly similar to McGonagall's before lighting a few more candles, but Ron did notice a faint smile as she turned towards the timepiece on the wall. And despite all the pain, he realised that he felt marginally better already.
"What-!" she exclaimed noting the time and turned around so fast that he thought she would Apparate out of the room. He chuckled to himself but it died the moment her eyes landed on his chest and she gasped aloud, tears springing to her eyes instantly.
"Ron!" she motioned in a choked voice indicating his bare torso, and he grimaced as the pain that had simmered to an annoying but familiar pulsation chose that instant to come up again in full force.
He just about realised Hermione shooting frantic directions to Harry before he was made to lie down and Hermione busied herself at the table.
"There is a potion- Mum sent-" he managed with difficulty, breathing heavily and fisting his fingers tightly as the sting pulsed intensely bringing moisture to his eyes and causing him to heave.
He almost screamed aloud the moment her fingers touched the gauze to remove it.
"It's okay, it's will be alright," she consoled him although teary herself. He concentrated on his breathing while she removed the blood soaked cotton pad and wiped off the blood. Ron distinctly heard her sniff aloud as she moved, and soon, there was something pleasantly cold being poured into the wound; he relaxed a little taking in short, sharp gasps of air.
A moment later, or perhaps longer, he couldn't exactly say for sure, Harry helped lift his head a little and Hermione brought a goblet to his lips which he drank from thirstily, letting out a sigh, and closing his eyes as the pain slowly began to abate.
"Better, mate?" Harry inquired minutes later and he managed a smile for the sake of his friends, took in deep breaths and opened his eyes. He tried lifting himself to a sitting position but Hermione placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. Her face had a steady stream of tears and she turned away the moment their eyes met, sniffing softly. He turned towards Harry and noticed that the boy had practically gone white, but there was a definite stiffening of his jaws.
"Don't tell me you were standing at the door, waiting for me to make a fool of myself, and then, come running to my rescue like a fucking hero or something," he snickered with difficulty, attempting to break the tension.
Harry chuckled softly, mirthlessly to be more accurate, and shook his head.
"I woke up and needed a drink so was off to the kitchen, but then I thought I'll check on you for a moment," he furnished unconvincingly. Ron had a very strong suspicion that his best friend was lying. Quite possibly, Harry had been unable to sleep at all and was walking outside keeping a watch, but he didn't voice out his thoughts aloud, choosing instead to nod a little. Hermione, however, did exactly that.
"You are a horrible liar, Harry!" she sighed and Ron was glad to note that she sounded a little more in control. Going back to the table she picked a phial, and pouring a few drops of it in a goblet of water, brought it out to him.
"Drink up," she ordered before turning towards him.
"A Dreamless Sleeping potion," she said, "Looks like we will need to brew ample batches of it this time," she muttered to herself before turning to Harry again.
"Will you be alright sharing with Ron?" she asked consciously and Ron could distinctly make out her reluctance to leave.
"Nope, I'll head to the other bedroom," replied Harry, "Fleur has strictly stated that no one is to keep you away from Ron after she saw you fall asleep without this thing," he said lifting his now empty goblet. Ron felt that there was something else too, something that perhaps Harry didn't want to say in front of Hermione. He made a mental note to ask about it later.
"She has barely slept all these nights," Harry told him indicating the girl who was blushing profusely now, and just like that, without saying anything more, Ron knew his friend took back all those horrid moments they had had in the forest, thanks to the Horcrux. There was an understanding, and an apology and also a glint of happiness like the raven-haired boy had been waiting for his friends to admit this for a long time now. Ron knew, a lot many explanations were still due but Harry stifled a yawn and he decided that all that could wait.
"I'll be off," said the younger boy, patting his shoulder lightly and then moved towards Hermione. Giving her a one-armed squeeze, he murmured something in her ears and she blushed harder. Ron couldn't help feeling a little annoyed.
"By the way, Fleur left you guys your dinner, you just need to warm it up," Harry added indicating the dresser where, now that he noticed, were two heavily laden trays.
"'night, guys," said the boy and left.
"What did the prat say?" he asked the moment the door locked behind his best mate.
"Nothing," she said much too quickly and turned away towards the dresser.
He waited till she warmed the food, brought one tray, and sat down next to him on the bed. He took a bite of the bread she offered him and before she could put the rest down, guided her hand towards her mouth, forcing her to take a bite too.
"I have my own," she told him softly but only after she had finished the morsel in her mouth.
"We share whatever we have," he told her, tucking a curl behind her ear, allowing his fingers to linger just a little longer on her skin than necessary. The memories of the Horcrux haunted him still, but by some strange twist of fate, his touch seemed to soothe her, and he decided he could fight his inner battles another day. For now, he would give this girl whatever she needed. Of course, never again would he allow anyone to touch her without her permission, not even himself.
"Is it true that you didn't sleep?" he asked while she picked up a piece of bacon and brought it to his mouth.
Hermione bit her lips in that familiar fashion that Ron realised would always make his heart yearn for her and he exhaled softly before he bit from the fork.
"I..." she began and then gulped before continuing. He knew she had tears in her eyes again because she didn't look up. "I couldn't," she said in a very small voice.
This was insane and frustrating. He could see how much she was hurting and while he had a trunk full of potions and salves, was there nothing that could heal her wounds?
"'Mione," he whispered placing his palms gently on his cheeks, and she dropped the tray on her lap to place her free hand over his as tears trickled down her cheeks.
"Every time I sleep-" she sniffed and gulped hard as if trying to pull the last strands of strength to go on.
"-I see you in the dungeons," she whispered hoarsely and hiccupped in an attempt to continue. "I see her hurting y-you while I just stand and watch!" she cried indignantly and more tears rolled down. "I do nothing, Ron! Nothing... I-I let them..." she finally broke down completely, and Ron managed to pull the tray out of her hand, keep it aside and pull her to his chest. His wounds were not healed, and they throbbed under the bandages but he couldn't care less. Hermione curled into him, flushed against his body, her face pressed over his heart and sobbed uncontrollably. So he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in closer, burying his face in her neck.
After a long time, when her sobs finally turned to soft whimpers, he removed his hands to give her space, but it seemed she was quite contented staying encased in his embrace so he wrapped his aching arms around her again.
"You saved me," he told her softly but with utter conviction. "You know that, don't you? At the time, it was only your lies that kept me alive... You did the bravest thing possible, love, something neither Harry nor I could have ever done, I am telling you. You brought me back, you and Harry," he murmured. "And you saved me again this morning, why don't you think of that?"
"But we got captured because of me, Ron!" she cried again, trying to pull out from his arms but, this time, he held on.
"We both know it was my fault. If I... well, if I hadn't done what I had done, you wouldn't have been so angry with me..." he told her. It seemed a lifetime away, but some guilt probably chased you to your grave, he thought.
It was a while before she spoke.
"Do you know why I was so angry?" she asked slowly and he snorted.
"It's obvious, isn't it? I am surprised you still let me hold you," he replied remorsefully. She pushed him off and he let her go imagining that this perhaps was the time when she would remember how angry she was with him and walk off. But to his surprise, she was still there and those brown eyes that were looking at him still held love- a lot of pain too, yes but a lot of adoration as well. He didn't know how he deserved it, but he felt immensely blessed.
"I was angry because you didn't trust me, Ron, because the Horcrux poisoned what we had and you allowed it to. You allowed that –that thing to malign what we had built over time. True, we had a terrible start, but how many people go through what we did together, Ron? I found you when I had nothing, no one. Everyone else I have now, be it Harry or Ginny or anyone else for that matter, I got them through you. How could you be stupid enough to think I fancy Harry? Or that I was-" she stopped and took a couple of deep breaths which Ron was sure to control her temper. He was feeling rather foolish and guilty himself. He couldn't tell her all that the Horcrux had been putting in his head, about the mission, about his family, about all his insecurities, but at least she was right about the part about them.
"I fell in love with you before I even knew Harry," she continued softly. "Harry is like a brother, we both lost our parents to this war... he knows what it feels like to be an orphan, to be pulled into a battlefield. I love him but not like I love you. " she sighed and looked away before she continued. But Ron had eyes only for her.
"I fell in love with the guy who saved me in the Room of Requirements, the guy who did not hesitate to take the attacks of the Whomping Willow in my place even though I had hardly cared about his safety. I had intentionally taken him there- and he knew my plans all along, but despite that he still stood by me, kept me safe. I fell in love with the guy who held me on when I was broken after losing my parents and everything I thought I knew about the world and about myself. I fell in love with the guy who trusted me when I was scared to trust myself. I fell in love with the guy who pulled me out of a collapsing tower, the guy who took on Alastor Moody to ensure my safety, who fought for him to believe me, to trust me. I fell in love with the guy I have hurt so many times over, and even when he said he hated me, he kept me safe, he cared, he gave me new friends and a family who took me in as their own. I love the guy who might have got influenced by the Locket but stopped himself in time, the one who took on an unfathomable amount of torture, and by doing so, kept me out of harm's way." She met his eyes finally and he wondered how he would ever tell her what he felt, he wasn't even half as good with words as she was.
"I never stopped loving him, Ron..." she said as her eyes met his own, and when she came closer to bridge the tiny amount of distance between them, he closed his eyes.
He allowed her to take control of the kiss. Merlin knew how much he craved for her, but he still went slow and felt rather than heard her impatient sigh as her lips ran over his cracked ones and demanded entrance. He obliged, allowing her to decide the pace, and following her just a step behind. Ron always knew that Hermione had some kind of a magical hold over him, something he detested in the initial days of his duty as her guard. But now, he felt blessed, he felt owned by her and it was barmy how much that joy thought gave him. Her closeness and fragrance gave him something to hold on to; in the world that was dark and dangerous, she was the light, the ray of hope, a promise of a future that he wanted so desperately. He pulled her closer to his chest and slowly, but certainly began to reciprocate in kind; the familiar, satisfied sigh telling him that it was what she wanted. Entangling his fingers in the curls at her nape he bared his heart in the kiss and hoped she understood. He also realised that only their love had the power to heal all the injuries they had sustained- physical or otherwise.
..
Hermione curled deeper into his embrace as Ron finally took control, her heart beating a little faster than before, perhaps feeling a little stronger too. She knew he would hold back, but eventually, together they could bring back what they had almost lost.
They broke apart after a long time but she didn't move away, neither did his hold on her slacken. Rather, she placed her head gently on his chest listening to his heartbeat and pulling strength from it. Ron would get better, she would see to it. And then, when he was strong enough, she would give back to Bellatrix and Lucius all that they deserved.
"By the way, Harry told me he is officially handing over all your rights to me," she told him very softly with a smile that refused to leave and loved the laughter that emanated from somewhere deep inside his chest.
A/N: This took an enormous amount of time. I only hope you all are happy with the result. It was this chapter where they were supposed to do it. But I had to drop that plan because Ron seriously is not fit enough now. But he will be better soon and Hermione will come out stronger. Harry has a lot to tell his friends, and as for Bellatrix and Lucius... well, let's say- they don't know what is coming their way.
The response I have received from you guys is amazing. I am so honoured and flattered with all those fantastic reviews you send me. Lots of love to all. You guys are amazing.
N.B: To those of you who are following A Bad Case of Amnesia, I will update it next week. The two stories are so different that I need time to get out of one before I start penning the other.