A/N: Hello! Okay so here is chapter six, I have no idea when you will hear from me again, I have two chapters after this already complete but I seemed to have hot the wall, I don't really want to post all my completed chapters and then leave you hanging, but hopefully I will sort it out before that time comes! Thank you to all for your support: reviews, alerts etc.... I hope you like this chapter) Please read and review!
Love xAx

WARNING: STORY CONTAINS SELF HARM AND DEALS WITH THE ISSUE OF DEPRESSION!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, RON WEASLEY, HERMIONE GRANGER OR THE BURROW..NONE OF IT IS MINE!
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Ron and Hermione spent the rest of the day hidden from the spring sun, in the shade of the tree. Ron could tell Hermione was worrying over the lack of lunch he hadn't eaten, but for Ron, he never wanted to leave the place he currently sat, however, it wasn't long before they heard the shouts of Mrs Weasley, calling them in for dinner.

The table was crowed, much more crowed than Ron remembered, he could feel the tension fill the air as he walked in and took his seat, keeping his eyes on the floor. He had guessed that his father, Bill, Percy, Charlie and George had been updated on his behaviour when they came home via the Floo network, he also came to the conclusion that all were warned not to comment by his mother. He ate as little as he could, as he could get away with, mainly pushing the food on his plate around. The conversation was stiff; everyone was avoiding the one topic they all desperately wanted to discuss.

Before long he couldn't stand it; he wanted to shout that everyone either stare at him or look at their plates. Placing his fork down, Ron silently got up, and went towards the stairs. He found himself mentally thanking Hermione, for he heard her mention that he was tired. He decided that a hot shower would allow him to think, and to relieve his stress, while treating his body to the familiar burning sensation the hot water would bring.

Flashback

'Bill and Fleur's, Bill and Fleur's'- they were the only thoughts going through his head, anything to get away from the snatchers. He knew arriving out of the blue, on his own would cause suspicion but right now he didn't care.

He was wet through, the cold whether finally chilling his bones; he concentrated on the pain focused in his fingers, and the blade he had secured in his other hand. Ron found himself staring at the door belonging to his brother's house, he couldn't quite bring himself to knock. He just managed to raise his fist when the door was pulled open:

"Ron, wha…what…the…fuck, you must be freezing." It all happened so fast that suddenly Ron was being pulled into the small hallway by Bill, who had clearly stuck his head out of the door to check that Harry and Hermione were following him into the house.

"Where are Harry and Hermione? Aren't they with you?" Ron found himself pressing the blade into the palm of his hand, with a slight shake of his head he looked at the floor. He only heard Bill sigh, Ron didn't need to look at his face to know the disappointment was there.

"Why don't you go and have a shower, clean up and I'll get you some food and we'll have a talk." Ron knew Bill was doing his best to keep calm and resist from saying what was going through his head, although it was probably nothing compared to the torment he was putting himself under.

The cream walls were taunting him, the flowered patterns creating faces, abusing him for his actions. Bill placed a bowl of soup in front of him whilst taking a seat. Ron could feel his stare burn his skin, he was struggling eating, shame was filling him up. He could see Bill trying to think of ways to conquer the questions he wanted to ask;

"So what happened? You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." He muttered. Bill looked at him disappointedly.

"Fine, your choice, I think I know anyway." And just like in the tent, Ron snapped;

"Oh of course you do, because your Bill, the eldest the cleverest, the who doesn't leave his fucking friends in the middle of nowhere because there is something else that knows your worthless and not good enough." He stormed out of the doorway and headed for the back room he had changed in earlier, seeking solace in the only thing he wanted. He knew it was would be risky to cut, especially since Bill or Fleur could walk in at any moment, also the cream carpet could be a problem. He therefore couldn't allow his blood to flow free once it began to ooze from the cut, he did however compensate by creating double the cuts, he just had time to hide his blade away before passing out to the clicking sound he was creating by fiddling with the Deluminator.

End Flashback

The water was blistering hot, and as Ron opened his eyes he could barely see across the room. He was slightly glad for the relief the water was offering, but now a days it was never truly enough. Knowing that he had stashed all his blades in his room, he either allowed the water to do its job for now and get a final release when he went up to bed, although there was a risk Hermione or even Harry could be around. Or he found a way cause himself harm in another way there and then, his final choice was too simply use the water as an aid; there was a time when the boiling was enough to ease him, it was all he could do during the times in the tent. He often thought about stopping, or at least decrease his actions but the thought made him shake with anxiety.

Feeling safe in the hot water Ron's thoughts ran away with him; he found himself getting too lost in his head, unable to get out, the whispers of the Locket screaming at him in pictures so loudly and vividly that he hadn't noticed his arm reaching out, punching the wall until, wonderful pain coursed through his arm like a parade. Ron was suddenly brought back reality, aware of the noise he had just created; he wasn't surprised at the worried knocking from the other side of the door.

By the time the knocking ceased Ron had dressed, he opened the door find a worried Harry and Hermione.

"Are you alright? We heard banging." They were the first words Harry had spoken to him all evening, just as Ron was about to answer, Hermione interrupted him, pointing at his aching arm he was unconsciously cradling.

"What's wrong with your arm?" under other circumstances Ron would have given in to the stare he was giving him and allowed her to inspect his injuring, however he already had an explanation.

"I slipped in the shower, used my arm to stop myself and fell on it awkwardly, it will be fine, I just need to rest it, maybe get some ice." He silently praised himself for the perfect delivery, he could see she was trying to find a flaw in his answer, deciding he was probably telling the truth, she reached for his arm and went to push his long sleeve up. It all happened in a blink; Ron pulled his arm from her reach, ignoring the hurt look that flashed on over her face, simply because he could stand the guilt that racked through him whenever he managed to hurt her.

"I'm sorry, it hurt more than I expected. I'll just get some ice." He walked back down the stairs, heading for the kitchen leaving Harry and Hermione on the landing.