Chapter Twenty-Six: The Boy Who Lived

Hermione sat on the couch at Spinner's End, watching the steps that led to the second floor. Upstairs she could hear Snape and James still shouting over each other as they worked to save Ron's life. When Lupin and Lily first brought him in, Hermione thought the worst had already happened. He was pale as a sheet, the only sign that he was still alive was a faint groan coming from him. They'd been at work for hours to keep him alive.

A steady track of blood led from the front door, all the way upstairs. She'd never liked it when she'd been assigned duty in the hospital wing back at Hogwarts. She couldn't stand the smell of sickness, or the feeling of blood staining her hands. Even more reason they should have never put you in Death Eater training, a voice in the back of her head said. That was true, she'd nearly lost her lunch the first day of weapons training, a first-year girl lost her ear to one of the third years. It was thanks to Ron that her nightmare there had been brief.

Malfoy came down the stairs, looking exhausted. His hands were clean, but she could still see flecks of blood on his shirt. Malfoy looked at her gravely. She knew he'd been assigned to the medical track at the school, training to be a wartime healer. But with two years left in school, there wasn't much he could do to help James and Snape other than hand the more experienced potion-makers ingredients. He collapsed into the armchair, taking out a small silver object from his pocket.

"How is he?" Hermione asked apprehensively. She still didn't like being around the other boy much, and doubted that would ever change.

"He's breathing," Malfoy turned the object over, and Hermione realized it was a knife. The blade shimmered, despite the layer of blood on it. Malfoy turned the dagger over in his hands, he threw it up once in the air and caught it.

"Is that—"

"Yep," Malfoy said. "He's lucky Harry left it in, otherwise they'd have never be able to save him in time."

"How do you know it was him?" Hermione's head pounded in rage; she couldn't believe Harry would do such a thing after all Ron did to help him. Although she wasn't exactly surprised, she'd never forgive him for what happened at Hogwarts.

"I've seen him use one just like it before, there's a hook on the back so you can throw it." He held the dagger aloft to demonstrate, as if he were going to throw it at the wall. "Besides, Snape says that there was a poison on the blade to keep wounds from being magically healed. He was using Nagini's venom."

"Does James know?"

"Dunno," Malfoy shrugged. "Doesn't change the fact that it happened, now does it?"

He looked dead, Hermione knew that Malfoy and Harry were close friends. It was the only reason Malfoy was there instead of at the academy still. He'd been sullen since the first night they arrived, and Hermione wondered if he liked Harry as more than a friend, the other students certainly seemed to think so. That was always perfectly fine in the Order, but she knew that there were taboos in the pureblood inner circles, after all … it did no good to end bloodlines …

"Aunt Andromeda is dead," Malfoy continued in the same far away voice. "One of Ron's brothers is at the Surrey safehouse, says Aunt Bella killed her."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. She'd always gotten sympathy for being a war orphan, but she couldn't stand the idea that someone's family members could be so cruel to kill their own. Besides, she'd met Andromeda's daughter Tonks. Malfoy shrugged again.

"It's okay," He wiped his nose, trying to fight back tears. "D'you know what Aunt Bella told me when I was ten? She said my father was going to be promoted. I went around before the execution telling everyone how proud I was of him, and they just laughed. When they brought out the dementor to administer the kiss I—" He cleared his throat. "That was the first time I met Harry, he was the only person who tried to warn me. I haven't forgotten that …"

"She's a horrid person," Hermione had only seen the head of the aurors in passing. But she knew how vicious Bellatrix Lestrange and her aurors could be. Malfoy nodded.

From upstairs, they heard a blood-curdling scream. Hermione jumped up from her seat to help Ron, but Malfoy shook his head, gesturing for her to sit.

"He's been like that the entire time," Malfoy explained. "Keeps muttering to himself like he's having both sides of a conversation, and—" Malfoy took a deep breath. "Some of its in parseltongue."

"Ron's possessed?" Hermione's blood drained. Maybe the diadem had taken him over as a new host, Malfoy shook his head.

"Dunno."

The door to the kitchen opened, and Sirius stepped out with two warm mugs of butterbeer. Hermione knew he was more adept at fighting than healing, but there was more than one way to help soothe wounds.

"Thought you could use some cheering up, its Christmas after all." Sirius said, looking sadly at the two teenagers in the living room.

It wasn't, but Hermione didn't want to remind him that it was still early December. Hermione felt a pang in her chest, she'd always loved the feast at the Great Hall. Last year Remus and Sirius insisted on buying her a small pile of books, treasures they'd gotten from one of the few smugglers still willing to work with the Order. ("We can't have the brightest witch of her age running out of reading material, now can we?" Remus told her as Sirius planted a kiss on his cheek). She'd cried for hours, grateful that they'd put so much thought into her.

She took a sip of the butterbeer, warmth spread through her like a hug. Hermione relaxed back into the couch, had things gone differently she'd be spending her time in a cold dormitory room with fifty other girls who wanted her blood.

Heavy footsteps came down the stairs, Hermione watched with bated breath as Professor Snape stepped into the living room. He'd cleaned off the blood on his hands and robes, but he looked exhausted.

"He'll live," Snape said, throwing himself down on the couch. "Potter offered to keep an eye on him. It'll be a couple hours before he regains consciousness."

Relief washed over Hermione, he'd live. She'd felt bad since the first time she met Ron. He looked at her with such familiarity, as if they'd been friends for years. Once she learned the truth from Remus and Sirius, she'd made a conscious effort to check in on him. She understood what it was like to be stuck somewhere with strangers.

Hermione raised her glass in salute, maybe there was still hope after all …

Ron came to slowly, like rising out of a fog.

The voices from the memory long faded into the recesses of his own mind. He couldn't get rid of it if he tried. He was back in the tiny bedroom at Spinner's End, lying on a twin bed. In the corner, Ron saw James Potter fast asleep in a seated position on the second bed, as if he'd passed out mid-guard duty. Ron winced as the door opened, feeling a sharp pain in his side. Sirius entered carrying a serving tray with a steaming bowl and a glass of pumpkin juice.

"I died," Ron said, his voice hoarse from misuse. He'd seen it, he'd felt the hot air of the curse rushing towards him, he'd known the vacant look in his own eyes.

"Nope, but you gave it your best shot," Sirius gave a weak smile, setting down the bowl next to Ron. "Here, I brought you some soup, couldn't figure out how to make the noodles spell sorry about your appendix though."

Ron stared at him blankly.

"I think its fine?" Sirius said, shrugging as he helped Ron up into a sitting position. "Snape said you don't need it. And now you'll probably get a wicked scar."

"Lucky me," Ron's hand fell unconsciously to the bandages around his stomach. He knew Sirius was trying to make him feel better, but he just wanted to be alone. He winced as another sharp pain stabbed through him.

"No—" Sirius guided his hand away from the wound. "It's still tender, the venom won't let it close properly."

"Who cut you?" A quiet voice asked from the corner. Ron turned around with a jolt to realize James was awake. There were dark circles under his eyes, and it looked like he hadn't shaved. He looked at Ron like he was a ghost.

"I dunno," Ron lied, his voice still slow and sluggish. He just wanted to fall back into his pillows and drift to sleep, black spots popped in his vision—

"Oh no you don't," Sirius caught his head as Ron lulled back in the bed. "You need to eat something before you take another nap, you've lost a lot of blood." James was still watching him with that far-away look.

"Tell me who did it." James said, tears stinging at his eyes. "Snape said it was maledictus venom in your wound."

"It doesn't matter, okay?" Ron sat up with a burst of strength. He didn't know why, but it felt wrong to tell James, at least until Ron felt coherent enough to explain what happened in detail. His vision began to swim again, and Sirius helped lower Ron back onto his pillows. He felt a warm compress pressed against his forehead.

"James, it can wait—" Sirius said in warning, but James shook his head.

"No, it can't! It does matter, you matter Ron. You almost died—"

"I ALREADY DID, I saw it happen!" The words burst from Ron's mouth before he could stop himself.

Ron felt tears swimming in his eyes, he wished they would just look away. He heard the door open and a third voice whisper a quick hello. Sirius and James were very silent for a minute, Ron felt something warm press against his leg. He looked down to see Sirius's animagus form laying its head on him.

"How're you feeling?" Ron felt Bill ruffle his hair. The lump in his throat grew, it'd been Bill's family in the ministry that day after all … Ron didn't answer. He shook his head, worrying that if he answered, the agony he felt chipping away at him would take over entirely.

"You should have seen him, gave cheek to Bellatrix Lestrange and Bartemius Crouch in the same day," Bill's voice was quiet, but beaming with pride. "Mr. Lupin's downstairs, said he wanted to check in with the professor 'bout something."

Sirius's animagus form gave a happy yap, Ron felt the dog's cold muzzle nuzzling in his hand. He reached out to pat the dog's fur, it felt like the only thing keeping him grounded. He kept facing the wall, as if he feared either James or Bill could also read his mind.

"Who was with Bellatrix when she attacked you? Remus didn't say." James asked Bill quietly, already knowing what the answer was. Ron groaned, he felt the dull light of the ministry's interrogation rooms on him once again, his head pounding in pain.

"Er—there were two others, a Metamorphmagus and one of the academy kids, I think. A boy with black hair, but …" Bill went quiet, the realization dawning on him. "He looked a hell of a lot like you—"

"NO," Ron broke his silence, his eyes snapping open just as the door slammed shut behind James. In an instant Sirius shifted back from his animagus form, chasing after James down the hall. Bill watched the two in a stunned silence.

"Shit, I'm sorry I didn't—" Bill stuttered, unaware of the damage he'd just done. "That's … James then, I'm assuming …"

Ron nodded, his ribs constricted with the effort to not cry out in pain and anguish. He'd failed everyone, he'd had the diadem and handed it right back over to Riddle. What if he decided he didn't need two horcruxes to keep himself alive? Ron wanted nothing more than for the room to black out again, to feel nothing but the cold weight of his own dead body leaned up against that interrogation table.

A set of arms wrapped around Ron, he could feel tears pouring down his face. It had been far too long since he'd felt the warmth of his family. Ron leaned into Bill's arms, realizing with a jolt that they were probably all the other had left in that world. He had no idea if Charlie also escaped.

"Sorry, I'm not as good at this as mum and dad," Bill said, clumsily patting Ron on the head.

"I failed everyone." Ron felt his head grow heavy, he'd been up for too long. "I lost the horcrux."

"No," Bill shook his head. "That's not your fault—"

"It is," spots appeared in Ron's vision again, Bill helped him lean back onto his pillows. "Gave it to Harry … didn't want him to get …" Ron felt winded, there was a dull ache spreading across his entire chest.

Bill's voice seemed far away, Ron couldn't understand what he was saying. He felt a vial pressed up to his mouth, he didn't realize how cold he felt until he swallowed the potion. It was like his fingers and toes had gone numb with frostbite.

"Blood replenishing potion, downstairs they said you'd need one every couple hours." Bill waived the bottle and set it down on Ron's bedside table. "Here, you need to eat something …"

Bill helped Ron eat the soup. From downstairs, Ron could hear two men shouting over each other. Bill frowned in concern, setting the bowl aside. He barely had time to open the door before Lupin and Sirius burst in.

"—bloody idiots will get themselves killed before they even make it up to the house," Sirius shouted, grabbing a few vials from Snape's potion kit.

"We don't know that's where—"

"WHERE ELSE WOULD THEY GO?" Sirius grabbed Lupin by his shoulders, searching desperately for another answer.

"Stop!" Bill stepped in front of Ron. "Ron needs to rest, you can get your potions when he's asle—"

"There won't be any more potions," Sirius turned to Bill in resentment. "You've seen to that …"

"I don't—"

"It's James and Severus," Lupin said, desperate. "They're gone."

A/N: Not me with two separate tabs open on stab wounds and burn scars, yay parallels. Thanks for reading!