Chapter 63

Ron woke to the sound of hushed whispers around him. Everything else was quiet — there was no screaming, no sound of people casting spells. It was quiet and he was… comfortable. Considering his last memory was being slammed against a wall, he assumed he must have been moved somewhere out of harm's way.

He rubbed his eyes, blinked, and the quiet whispers stopped immediately.

"Finally, you're awake."

Ron turned his head slightly to the voice, but it ached. He closed his eyes again, recovering from the wave of dizziness that hit him from that one small movement.

"Thank goodness you're okay, Ron!"

Keeping his eyes closed, Ron smiled at Hermione's voice. "I'm fine," he murmured. "Just a headache. Where am I? Am I home?"

"You're in St Mungo's," came the reply, which Ron now recognised as Harry's.

"Right." He tried opening his eyes again, this time turning his head slowly. His head throbbed like nothing else, but other than that his body felt fine. There appeared to be no breaks or anything. Just Ron feeling a little sorry for himself.

He saw Hermione sitting by his bed, looking quite concerned. Her hand was covering one of his, and when he smiled at her, she returned it, albeit it didn't quite reach her eyes. Harry was standing behind her and Ron realised now that the whispers had been their voices, talking quietly to one another as they sat by his bedside waiting for him to wake.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked.

"Fine," Ron said, and he forced himself to sit up in the bed. His head screamed at him to lie back down, but he ignored it. "Have a horrible headache, but I'm sure someone here can give me a potion for that. Other than that, good as new."

Hermione offered another weak smile and squeezed his hand. "They said you got hit by at least three Stunning spells at once."

"Impressive," Ron said, nodding, but immediately regretting it a moment later as a sharp pain shot right up to his head. He winced.

"It was definitely messy out there," Harry said. "I'm just glad Robards sent me away before the rest came, otherwise you wouldn't be here and the rest of us would be dead, probably."

"So you got the other Aurors there?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I brought all of them, and we managed to capture the enemy as they were then outpowered, but it wasn't looking good for a while, especially with two of our own down." He hesitated.

"Is Ryan okay?" Ron asked, sensing what Harry wanted to tell him.

"He'll live," Harry said. "But he got hit worse than you, plus he'd already been taken out once before. He probably needs a few more days to recover than you will."

"But he's alive?" Ron asked.

"He's alive and fine, considering," Harry assured him. "We didn't lose anyone and we got all of the black robe people who were in Edinburgh and they're now sitting in holding rooms at the Ministry while everything's processed."

"Any idea who they are?" Ron asked.

"None," Harry confessed. "No one does. It seems these people — whoever they are — just popped out of nowhere all of a sudden. And that their sole purpose was to terrify Muggles." Harry paused for a moment.

"What?" Ron asked, ignoring the pain in his head.

"It appears — and there's a good chance they're feigning it, we don't know — none of them can speak. So, identifying them and finding out who they are and what their purpose is, is going to be tricky." Harry sighed as if this was just one more thing he had to do.

"Well, at least we'll be busy for a bit," Ron said.

"Yeah, so will I, so it seems," Hermione said. "Who knew that implementing such an office into the Ministry would be so valuable."

Ron stared at her for a moment, contemplating her words. "You're not considering representing them, are you?" he said. "They aren't pleasant people. They killed innocent people without a second thought."

"No," Hermione said. "I mean… I don't think I could — on moral grounds — but they and their actions still need processing and it will take the strain off you guys. They're up for some serious charges, whoever they are."

Ron's memory in some areas, he realised, was a little fuzzy, but he didn't think anything could erase what he witnessed in Edinburgh. There were dozens of people dead because of the Fiendfyre, so many memories that needed wiping, so many confused people in the aftermath of a destroyed city.

No amount of memory wiping could bring back those who'd died — magic couldn't do that. Nothing could. In the coming days there'd be people learning that they were without a son, or a daughter, a mother, father… brother.

He looked at Hermione again, who smiled at him. Then she said, "The Healer said you can go home when you're feeling up to it. They healed the broken ribs and broken arm, as well as all the cuts."

"Broken ribs?" Ron questioned, subconsciously feeling for them. They didn't even hurt to touch.

"You were pretty beat up, mate," Harry said. "I returned and saw you and Ryan on the ground, blood pouring from both of you. Thought the worst, but it was hitting the wall that did it. Not the Stunning spells or anything."

Ron once again felt at his ribs, but said nothing. His first real Auror Mission that had meant something and he'd been injured and ended up in the hospital. Death Eaters, fighting off Snatchers single-handedly were fine, apparently, but in a team with the protection of others, it cost him — mostly his own pride.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked again.

"Fine," Ron answered, suddenly feeling a little frustrated by everything. "I think I can go." He made to get out of bed, but a wave of dizziness hit him and he clutched his head, groaning.

"You're not fine," Hermione said, forcing him back onto the bed. "I'll let the Healer know you plan on staying for the night." She made to leave the room, but Ron grabbed her hand.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I mean, I just want to go home. I'm sure there's a potion they can give me that will help with my head."

Hermione looked as if she was about to argue, but seemed to think better of it. She nodded. "I'll talk to someone and see if we can get something."

"I can get it," Harry said, and left the room before either of them could protest.

Ron looked at Hermione and smiled. "I just want to go home and be with you," he confessed. "It was rough out there… I don't think it's fully hit me yet. I mean, I've been asleep, haven't I?" Whilst he felt sickened by what had happened, he didn't feel traumatised or even overly bothered by what he'd seen yet. It wasn't affecting him on a deep level like the war had, and he could only assume that he'd either become desensitised to death over the years, or his brain was just too frazzled and sore for him to completely comprehend it all just yet.

"From what I hear, it was awful," Hermione said. "I couldn't imagine going through all that again…"

"This is what we signed up for, though, isn't it?" Ron said. "I mean, catching Dark wizards is our thing, and there were an abundance of them today."

"Harry said they counted forty-seven in total, but assume there's more out there."

"How long was I out for?" Ron asked, wondering just how long three Stunning spells and a head knock could have kept him down for.

"Several hours," Hermione said. "It's eight in the evening now. But you're alive, thank goodness. I was so worried when Harry told me what had happened. I came straight here —"

"Glad to know you care," Ron said, grinning.

She smiled back and then picked up his hand and kissed it. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here?"

"I want to stay with you," Ron said, his tone definitive.

She nodded, and Ron attempted to sit up again, this time with her help. He felt pathetic, which was an old feeling for him. He'd hadn't felt like that around Hermione in years. Since they'd been searching for Horcruxes and he'd taken off because the locket had convinced him to. But the way she helped him get comfortable, made sure he was okay… he hated it. He was a fully qualified Auror and he'd allowed himself to be hurt. The only comfort was that Ryan had allowed it to happen twice. At least that wasn't the case for Ron.

After spending a few moments sitting on the bed and gathering his bearings, Ron made an attempt to stand and failed.

"Ron, I think you really should —"

"It's just my head," Ron said, frustrated by his inability to currently even stand.

"Which can be serious —" But Hermione helped him to his feet anyway, where he swayed as his head swam. Everything spun and a wave of nausea hit him.

It only lasted a moment, and Hermione came into clear view before him. He looked down at her and smiled and kissed her.

"For a moment, I thought I'd maybe not get to do that again," he said.

She seemed desperate to not condone him going home, but seemed unable to control the smile after he'd kissed her.

He took her hand — partly because he liked holding her hand and partly because he needed her for support — and they left the ward he'd been placed in, which Ron only now realised, he'd been the only occupant.

Harry met them by the door, clutching two potion bottles. He passed them to Hermione and looked at Ron. "The Healer said you're supposed to take it twice a day for three days, and then once a day for four days after. Even if the headache and dizziness goes away."

"What does it taste like?" Ron asked, childhood memories of the horrid potions his mother had forced down his throat suddenly coming back to him. It seemed that nothing that was supposed to be good for you tasted as such.

"I dunno," Harry said, "but you better take it even if it tastes bad. You look like you've been hit by the Knight Bus."

"Thanks," Ron muttered.

"We'll let them know you're leaving and then I think we should actually get the Knight Bus home," Hermione said.

"Do you want me to vomit?" Ron asked her.

"Apparating or the Floo will have the same effect," Hermione told him matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, but at least it won't be in front of a dozen other people," Ron said. "Honestly, Hermione, I just want to go home."

Hermione seemed set to protest again, but like last time, thought better of it. "Fine. We'll use the hospital Floos."

On their way out, they stopped by a desk and Ron told them he was going home. The witch sitting there didn't seem concerned in the slightest, and even as they walked to the Floos on the same level, the Healer they ran into didn't seem to think Ron needed to stay.

"See, Hermione," Ron said, "from a professional. I don't need to be here."

Hermione said nothing as they walked through the corridor slowly. The more they walked, the less dizzy Ron became. Though he wasn't going to enjoy this Floo trip, he was sure.

Hermione picked up a pot of Floo Powder resting on one of the fireplaces the hospital had. She tossed it into the fireplace and it immediately lit up in green.

"You go first," she said.

Ron didn't argue. He stepped in, asked to go home, only wondering as he was sucked through the grates if their place was even connected to the hospital.

His question was answered a moment later when he stumbled into his living room, his stomach churning and head spinning from the short journey. Floo travel was difficult at the best of times, but after being knocked out, it was extremely unpleasant.

He didn't even wait for Hermione, instead dashing into the kitchen, barely making it to the sink before he brought up his last meal — which was probably breakfast.

"Oh, Ron," he heard Hermione say a few moments later, her hand resting on his back. "There's no magical cure for concussion, unfortunately."

"Concussion, too?" Ron groaned, gripping the sides of the sink, feeling awful.

"I'm afraid so," Hermione said, and she rubbed his back comfortingly. "Come on, you should probably go to bed. I assume you don't want anything to eat."

Ron shook his head and turned back to face her. "If I hadn't just been sick, I'd kiss you."

Hermione smiled. "I'd rather you don't," she said. "No offence."

He returned her smile. "I think I will go to bed," he said. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Hermione said. "Do you need me to do anything?"

Ron shook his head. "Just when you do come to bed, cuddle up to me. Just as a reminder that I didn't die today."

"I think I can manage that," Hermione said, smiling again. "And don't forget to take the potion." She waved her wand and the potion bottles flew into her hand. She passed one to him. "It'll help you sleep and stop your headache and dizziness."

Ron accepted the bottle from her and took a small gulp from its contents. It tasted horrible, but it was worth it as he felt instant relief. His head no longer hurt and he could suddenly see properly again. His stomach had stopped churning as well.

"Goodnight," Ron said.

"Night, Ron," Hermione said.

Ron walked upstairs, the potion making him feel much more like himself. He knew it was only temporary, but hoped that it would help him sleep. Physically, his body felt as good as new, but it was still susceptible to exhaustion. He'd not had that much physical activity in years.

He dressed out of his Auror robes, which no one at the hospital had bothered to take him out of, and dressed into his pyjamas. The room wasn't cold, but he pulled the covers up to him and fell asleep almost instantly.

…

When he woke, it was to an empty room. At first he thought he'd only slept for an hour, but then he noticed the daylight peeking through the window and realised he'd slept the whole night without waking or stirring. And Hermione had come to bed, slept, and gotten up again, ready for her day.

He felt a wave of disappointment as he realised it was a work day — technically for both of them. Hermione might have even left by now, for he had no idea what time it was.

The good thing was that he felt near normal again. The potion had done its job and his head no longer throbbed. He turned it from side to side, testing it out, and was pleased to note that no quick movements caused him to see two of everything anymore. He felt well rested and almost like he could go to work himself, though he strongly doubted Robards would accept him in the office even if he tried.

Ron recalled the time he'd all but physically kicked another Auror out and sent them home after they'd come in with a mild cold.

"You're no good to me if you're not your best," he'd said. "Stay home and rest and come back when you're well."

So despite Ron feeling okay, he assumed the Head Auror would see things differently.

"How are you feeling?"

Ron turned his head towards the door. Hermione had come in, dressed in —

He stared at her for a moment, then said, "You're not working?"

"No," Hermione said. "I owled them this morning, cancelled all my appointments or gave them to Maya if I thought she could handle them. I'm looking after you today."

"I really don't need you to —"

"But I want to," Hermione said brightly, coming to sit on the bed next to where he still lay. She leaned down and kissed him. "You'd do the same if the situations were reversed, so don't tell me I shouldn't."

"But I really do feel fine this morning," Ron said. "Pretty normal, actually. It's strange."

Hermione smiled. "Well, that's good at least. But I'm still staying. The perks of being the Head of an office. I can kind of make my own hours."

Ron grinned at her. "I love you," he said.

Hermione kissed him again and then hopped off the bed. "I'll see you downstairs when you're feeling up to it."

"What?" Ron said. "You mean you're not going to bring breakfast up for me?"

"I thought you were feeling normal?" Hermione said.

"I thought you took the day off to look after me," Ron retorted, but he grinned at her to let her know he was joking — even though he was sure she already realised that.

She returned his smile and said, "To look after you, yes. To do things you're capable of doing yourself, no. I'll see you downstairs." And she left the room before he could protest any further.

Ron was slow to get out of bed, but pleased to learn that he no longer felt dizzy even when he stood. But remembering Harry's words from the night before, he took another gulp of the foul potion before going downstairs.

He found Hermione busying herself with tidying some things up in the hall, having already eaten. Ron paused for a moment, taking in the moment where it was a work day and both of them were at home and just how much of a rarity that was.

Then she spotted him and smiled.

"Harry just sent an owl," she said. "Just wondering how you were, and he said he might drop by later today after he's finished. They're pretty busy. I've asked Maya to owl me some stuff and I'll do it here. There's so much to process."

Rather than responding, Ron stepped forward and engulfed her in a tight embrace, kissing her deeply. When he pulled away, he said, "That's great if he wants, but at least I get the whole day with you. I swear I see Harry more than I see you."

Rather than berating him for distracting her from whatever it was she'd been doing — wiping the benches in the hall, it seemed — she nestled against him, head resting against his chest.

They stood in silence for a long while, Ron's arms around her and feeling her even breathing against him. It wasn't until he was standing there, holding her, did it occur to him just how badly things could have gone yesterday.

He hadn't thought too hard about it — unable to process anything beyond sleep and the mere basics of the events that had led to him ending up at St Mungo's — but the weight of everything hit him in that moment, suddenly and brilliantly, like he'd been hit by another Stunning spell.

His grip on Hermione tightened. What if one of those black-robed people had used a different spell? They had fired off the Killing Curse before, blocked by Ron and the other Aurors. Ron and Ryan had been unprepared to respond. They'd been too slow, too clumsy — not good Aurors. And it was sheer luck he lived; not skill. In that moment, the enemies had decided not to kill them, just wound them.

Hermione's warmth was comforting as he tried to process how close he'd once again come to death. Those days were supposed to be behind him — they had been for nearly six years now. It had been a comfortable life since, a happy one, one that had been almost snatched away because he'd been unprepared.

Why had he ever wished to do something exciting with the Aurors? He'd gotten his wish and it had ended with him beaten and bruised with broken bones.

He pulled away, and Hermione looked up at him, smiling sympathetically.

"I'm one lousy Auror, huh?" he said. "The first time I get out I blunder it and land myself and a fellow Auror in the hospital."

"You're not lousy, Ron," Hermione said. "Far from it. I don't really know what happened out there, but no one said anything about you failing at what you were supposed to be doing."

"I was too slow," he told her. "Too slow to take out my wand and fight back. It's why it happened. Ryan was already down and I failed to protect both of us from the new influx of enemies. I didn't anticipate it, when I should have. We're taught from the beginning to always expect the unexpected. And I didn't."

The more he spoke it out loud the more he hated every moment of what had happened yesterday. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he'd failed at his job. Aurors were supposed to be some of the most on-guard, able and skilled people out there. They were meant to be alert at all times, even when no danger seemed present. Why had he even put his wand away to begin with? Why hadn't he had it out? If he had, he would have been able to respond to the new danger that presented itself in the form of twenty or more people facing off five Aurors, one of whom had been already knocked down.

He felt lame, useless, and like he'd deserved what had happened to him. And it made him hate himself.

"Ron," Hermione said, stepping away from him slightly. "You are a good Auror. You are a skilled wizard and you're capable of a lot of things. What happened… it was unexpected. Robards only sent five of you to deal with forty-seven of them. The fact that none of you died out there shows just how great you actually are. No one expected this to happen. No one has heard of these people before or knew of their existence…" She reached out and touched his arm gently. "Ron, don't beat yourself up over it."

"What if I'd died?" Ron said, his emotions riling at her calmness and assurance. He didn't deserve it — she should have been berating him, telling him he was supposed to do more.

"Ron —"

"No, what if I had?" Ron said. "It was just as likely. They were using the spell. I was just lucky it wasn't that when they hit me. If it had been, Ryan and I'd be dead. I could have easily gotten us both killed."

Hermione didn't say anything for a long while. She just watched him, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. Perhaps that thought hadn't occurred to her before — that it could have been just as likely that he'd been killed up in Edinburgh and not just hit with Stunning spells. Or perhaps no one had bothered to tell her that those people had been using the Killing Curse freely on Muggles.

Muggles…

He looked at her, his despair deepening as that part finally hit him. "Those Muggles," he whispered.

"Ron, there was nothing that could be done —"

"You weren't there, Hermione," Ron said. "We couldn't even help them as they were attacked by Fiendfyre. Burnt alive, screaming, terrified…" Tears threatened in his own eyes now and Hermione stepped towards him, but she looked uncertain.

"I never really thought about the bad side of this job," Ron confessed. "The possibility of witnessing death again… I never thought about it like that. I thought about the glory, the fighting, but not that." Tears rolled down his face as the memories took their toll on him. He'd never contemplated that when signing up for the Aurors. He'd never stopped to think that doing this job had highs and lows, and yesterday he'd witnessed a valley-sized low.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said softly, and this time she did hug him again.

Ron let her, needing her comfort all of a sudden. He wanted her close to him while his mind processed everything that had hit him so quickly and so forcefully that it had really knocked him round. He couldn't remember feeling like this after the Battle of Hogwarts had ended. It had been slow-processing then, and he'd remembered it all immediately, making dealing with it easier. That had been a war, he'd expected death, he'd expected to fight.

This had been a routine mission turned lethal. He'd not been prepared for that.

Again, they stood there for a long while, her touch a comfort to him. He didn't want to let her go and she didn't give any indication that she wanted him to.

Her head pressed against his chest, her arms tightened around his waist, and suddenly, Ron felt a long stream of hot tears roll down his cheeks, landing on the top of her head. If she felt him crying, she gave no indication. She simply stood there.

Eventually, though — and it could have been an hour or more for all Ron knew — she did untangle herself from him. She looked up again, reaching to touch his tear-stained face. "I'm just glad you're okay," she said softly, wiping away his tears. "I was really terrified when Harry came to see me and you weren't with him."

Ron brushed away the tears on his face. "You're not ashamed, are you?" he asked, not entirely sure where that question came from. He just wasn't feeling the best right now.

It seemed to shock Hermione, too. "What would I be ashamed about?" she asked.

Ron looked at her for a moment, but then shook his head. "I don't know," he confessed, not being entirely truthful.

She seemed to know what he'd meant anyway. "Ron, you're my husband and I love you because of you, not what you do. But even so, there's nothing to be ashamed about and a lot to be incredibly proud of. You're an amazing Auror. Ask anyone and they'll agree. What you do — what you did yesterday — was everything right. You're bound to get injured occasionally, and I'm just grateful you weren't killed."

Ron nodded, but said nothing.

"I love you," Hermione said, and she kissed him lightly. "I love you so much." She kissed him over and over again, apparently realising that she was always the best distraction for him.

Ron just simply couldn't resist her and despite feeling defeated, lost and upset over everything that had happened, her presence was always like a tiny ball of happiness in his chest that made everything feel just that little bit better.

So he kissed her back, pulling her towards him and tightening his hold on her. And like he knew she had wanted, his mind temporarily forgot about all the things he'd seen and experienced, and he lost himself in her existence, because her existence was the best thing in the whole world to him.

So, I assumed you all realised that Ron wasn't going to die! I hope you liked this chapter. There's going to be a bit more scattered throughout now about Ron deliberating whether or not being an Auror is for him. I've dragged it out a little, but we do all know the canonical outcome!