A/N: Hello! Happy Wizard Independence Day, *chants "long live Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger!"* so here is the next chapter, its all I have written, apart from the beginning of the next chapter, so if you have any suggestions for how you want it, let me know! I hope you all enjoy the bank holiday! Thank you for your reviews and for still being with me! 3 Please read and review!
Love xAx

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!

Ron knew he had to convince Harry and Hermione he was going to fix his arm, so he made his way into the kitchen and to the freezer to get some ice. He was very aware of Harry following and watching his every move, the year of being on high alert told him where his friend was situated without Ron having to look. He placed the ice in a towel, knowing it will be an easy convincer, one that will be thrown out of the window when he got to his room. Placing it on his throbbing hand, Ron headed for the door muttering a 'night' to Harry.

He was relieved that Hermione wasn't waiting for him where he left her on the landing; Ron figured she had gone to talk to Ginny, for there were voices coming from her room. He paused his ascent to remove the ice from his hand, it was then he heard his name in a typical Hermione speech.

Ron knew he should have walked on, but something in the way Hermione spoke rooted him to the spot. He cursed himself for not ensuring that everything was alright with her parents. Ron silently thanked Ginny for taking care of Hermione when he couldn't and promised himself to make his appreciation known to his sister, until she spoke again…

"He hasn't been to one session."

His body moved before his brain noticed the movement, he made it to his room slamming the door behind him, not caring for the noise he made. His mind was reeling; 'would Hermione believe Ginny?' 'What in the name of Merlin could he say when she confronts him?' He locked his door and went to the box hidden under his bed where he kept a newly sharpened blade.

He wasn't aware of how much time passed, he had been focusing on the rush that seemed to consume his whole body, Ron figured it was in head; the more he thought about the adrenaline flowing through his veins, the more he felt it. For the first time in his life he thanked the fact that his parents couldn't afford to get a carpet for his room, as he siphoned the pool of blood from the floor with his wand. Ron crawled to his bed and lay there in a conscious comatose state. He had finally run out of ideas on how to hide his secret, four years he had managed to conceal to his family and friends, how he hasn't slept properly, how everything he did was no longer fun; he detested Quidditch and on a bad day, chess. He spent most of his time hidden in his room or staring into space, not contributing when surrounded by people because he didn't want them there, he liked to be alone but at the same time loathed his own company. He hated his own body and mind, the sheer anger at his lanky frame caused him to lash out by cutting, he was already covered in scars, more wouldn't hurt, and it wasn't as if he was so important people would notice.

He was week, pathetic and useless; he often wondered why Harry and Hermione wanted him around, especially when it came their 'adventures', Hermione was the clever one, she figured out the flaws in the plans, identified concealments and provided useful spells. Harry was brave and strong, he always overcome the hurdles placed in front of him and saved the world from danger, he gave everyone hope and even when he was hurt, either emotional or physically he came through. And what was he, Ronald Weasley, the one who followed, offered humour, 'Ha' he thought. He had figured a while ago that people were more likely laughing at him and the joke that was his life rather than with him. He wasn't important, if he was then people would remember him; they would remember that he helped save Ginny from the chamber or that he destroyed one of the most evil dark artefacts on Earth, or saved Dean, Luna, Griphook and Mr Ollivander from the Malfoy's cellar. But even Ron knew that Harry was the real and only reason those people were brought to safety.

He desperately wished sleep would over take him, anything for him to get out of his mind for a while; he would even welcome the nightmares, even they seemed more like dreams compared to his life.

"You're a failure" Ron muttered to himself. He failed Harry and Hermione when he walked out of the tent. He failed to protect the girl he loves from being tortured. He failed to protect Ginny, and failed Fred. He would never forgive himself for any of it, his failure and uselessness cost his brother his life, which then caused his family pain they didn't deserve.

He knew that he couldn't stay where he was, staring at nothing, locked inside his own brain. He had to at least try to keep up his façade; even if it meant the sake of his relationship with Hermione, she was the one who knew him well enough, would notice when he was struggling with his emotions, he already hated himself for all the lying to her already, she was too good for him, she didn't deserve the deceit and hurt, she should be happy, and he loved her too much to ruin her life when she had so much to give, it would be a painful process, and he figured he would have to lie to ensure she got the message, but he had means on how to deal with torment.

A/N: So who knows what could happen....someone might find out very soon!
x x x