Author's Chapter Notes:
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It started out as usual. They would retreat into their invisible tent and Hermione would go straight for her books; getting a head start for their next mission. Harry would try to make a decent meal out of stuff they had bought or found or picked along the way. Ron would be lying on his back, his eyes closed yet far he would be from sleep.
It was Ron’s way of calming himself down and collecting his thoughts. Replaying the events that had occurred earlier that day and figuring out if they had done the right thing or if they had left behind trails for Voldemort’s men to follow.
At the same time, he would take comfort in the rustling of papers as Hermione turned yet another page of whatever book she was reading and her random ‘hmmm’ and ‘ahhh’ when something caught her attention. And then there would be her frustrated sighs and huffs and the slamming of yet another book when she couldn’t find what she was looking for.
These sounds would usually blend naturally with that of Harry muttering some transfiguration spells or charms and the clanging of utensils as he attempted to conjure instant boiling water for tea. The days when they could find wild mushrooms, Ron swore Harry looked like a chef eagerly anticipating on a new recipe.
That particular night Ron was imagining himself flying on his broom. That little image turned into him playing Keeper for the Canons. The crowd grew wild as he attempted saves after saves. Sometimes, he swear he could hear them chanting ‘Weasley is our King! Weasley is our King!’ That image would morph into something dark. He would be flying away from something or someone. The sky was dark but the danger hanging in the cold still mist was thrilling to him. Something kept chasing but he would always be a step ahead.
This was when Hermione’s voice interrupted his little daydream.
“What are you thinking about Ron?”
“Why?” Ron asked with his eyes still closed.
“You’re smiling. Must be a nice thought.”
Ron opened his eyes and turned to look at her. She had the book now resting on her lap, closed.
“Just thinking about playing quidditch.”
“You can still think about that?”
“Why not? Helps with the stress.”
“Wish it’s that easy for me.”
“Shouldn’t reading release yours?” Ron thought he heard Harry snickered softly.
“Not this kind of read.”
“Then you should stop.”
“And do what exactly?”
“You should lye down next to me and-”
“We will not have any of that as long as I’m in this tent.” Harry cut in.
“Shut up Harry.” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “You should do this too. Lye down and close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“So we can imagine this together. I promise it’d be fun.”
Harry gave Hermione a weary look but she only shrugged and laid on her back next to Ron and closed her eyes. Ron smirked and joined her. “Whenever you’re ready mate.”
“What do I do next?” Hermione asked.
“Well, usually, I’d start with a question.”
“A question?”
“Yeah. Here, let me start.” Ron said. There was a short period of silence before he continued. “Okay so, what do you think you’d be doing right now if Voldemort never exist?”
“That’s easy.” Hermione claimed. “I’d be in Hogwarts for my final year.”
“Good start. So, I imagine me and Harry are there as well.”
“Yes, both of you.”
“I imagine you’d be the Head Girl.” Ron smiled.
“Ha! That’s a laugh. Hermione broke tons of school rules just by being with us.” Harry said suddenly. Ron chanced a peek to his left and found Harry next to him, on his back, eyes closed, with a hint of a smile on his face.
“You’re right Harry. Hermione would be a rebellion.”
“Of course, we’re the three Gryffindors who always create problems for everyone.” Harry added.
“A bunch of hooligans.” Hermione said.
“Yeah.” Harry confirmed with a small laugh.
“Right, so our favorite target is Draco Malfoy.” Ron continued.
“Yeah, skinny, geeky Malfoy.” Harry said.
Hermione giggled loudly. “Shhh! Hooligans don’t giggle Hermione!”
“Oops, sorry Ron.”
“You just caused Gryffindors ten points.”
“Boo!” Harry cried.
“Oh do shut up.” Hermione grumbled.
“ So, our favorite class is?”
“Potions.” Hermione said, at the same time as when Harry said Defence against the Dark Arts.
“What?” Harry exclaimed. “No way, we HATE potions!”
“But maybe we do love potions in this other world?” Ron suggested.
“Please, Snape will still be his greasy old self.” Harry argued.
“No boys, listen!” Hermione said. In her excitement, she started slapping Ron’s arm to get his attention. “We love potion because in this other world, we’re all excellent in Potion and-”
“Well, you maybe.” Ron and Harry snickered.
“Shut up Ron.” Hermione huffed. “So, we’re excellent in potions so we love to make life a living hell for our potion professor.”
“And we turn him into a toad every morning!” Harry cried. Ron laughed.
“You’re right Ron, this is fun!” Hermione smiled. She turned to face him and gave his arm a soft squeeze. Ron opened his eyes and returned her smile. “So, were you pretending to play for the Canons earlier?”
“At first yeah. And then I got chased by some unseen thing.”
“What do you think that is?” Harry asked.
“Dunno. But it was fun.”
“Fun?” Hermione exclaimed. “That’s horrible!”
“It’s like a game.” Ron shrugged. “Besides, it’s not real.”
“Real is right now.” Harry whispered as he pushed himself up and turned to look at his friends. “I’m sorry you’re both dragged into this.”
“No one’s dragging anyone.” Hermione said. “I’m here by choice.”
“But you don’t have to make any choice if you don’t know me in the first place.”
“Then someone else would be here instead of me and you’d be telling that someone the same thing you just told us.”
“Or that person could have chosen not to come with me.”
“Well you’re better off knowing us then,” Ron pointed out. “You know you need her brain to get this far.”
“You’re right.” Harry laughed.
“And of course you need a Ron Weasley too.”
“Oh really?” Hermione laughed. “And why is that Ronald?”
Ron shrugged. “You need a red head, that’s just the way it is.”
“I like that.” Hermione blushed as she looked at Ron, who was grinning from ear to ear.
Harry rolled his eyes playfully at his friends. “I think I’m going to barf.”
-
To say that he was scared was an understatement. Ron was terrified. Sure he had woken up countless of times with a fever so high he thought he was going to pass out before he could get to take his medications before; but to fall so deep into unconsciousness with a fever that high would have been fatal. In fact, Ron was sure he would never wake up to see the day if it hadn’t been for Hermione.
Had she been checking up on him or was that a coincidence that she had walked into his room and found him in that state?
Ron shuddered. The night was getting colder by the second and Ron wasn’t sure for just how long he could keep this up and not give in to sleep once again. Sitting up right and doing nothing wasn’t helping at all. He needed to do something to keep his mind active.
Perhaps he should check on his dad. If there really was a need for him to go to St. Mungo’s, then someone needs to come and look after him.
“Accio wand.”
Two wands almost smack him on the face. “Well, that woke me up.” Realising Hermione had forgotten her wand, Ron managed a small shake of his head. “She must’ve really panicked.”
Pushing himself up wasn’t as difficult as he had anticipated although the dizziness did threaten to push him back down. After getting his bearings back, Ron made his way out of the room. With only the small light at the tip of his wand, Ron made his way to his parents’ room, in his mind, a map of the path helped him to navigate his way. After all, he’d only lived there all of his life.
It was while on his way there that he heard muffled voices coming from the living room. At first he brushed it off as Neville’s but the conversation seemed harsh and threatening and it caught his attention.
He made his way slowly to the stairs and climbed down a few steps to get a better look.
There were two men who looked uncannily like Sirius when he first morphed from a black dog to a man. They were both looking at Hermione, who seemed to be in shock.
“You need to WHAT!”
Any feeling of dizziness that just seconds ago was threatening to push him off the stairs were now gone. In its place, a desire to hit thousands of curses at the intruders was mounting. That anger alone would have been enough to get a reaction out of Ron, but the sensible side of him, the one who always believe in caution, told him that he needed a plan, and fast.
“No…nothing. I meant to say, there’s no one else here except for me.”
That’s my Hermione, Ron thought.
Ron crept his way back up to his parents’ room, where his dad was still peacefully asleep. No one has to know that he was in here. If his plan fell apart, they could still save his dad. Careful not to wake him up, Ron bent over as slowly as his body allowed him, and kissed his dad on his forehead. You just never know when you’d see them last.
He studied the room quickly; making sure everything was in place. He could still smell his mother in this room.
With a quick flick of his wand, he cast the silencing spell over the room. If dad were to wake up with a fit, they wouldn’t hear him.
Ron made his way back to his room as fast as his legs could carry him. He knew it was a gamble to leave Hermione on her own and especially without her wand but Ron figured he wouldn’t be helping anyone at all if he had acted irrationally.
He went straight to Pig’s cage, where the little owl for once, wasn’t jumping all over the place.
“Sorry Pig, but you’ve got work for me tonight.” The bird didn’t seem to mind at all as he jumped on his arm and started to squeak. “Shh! You need to pipe down buddy, just this once, please.”
Ron reached out for a small parchment and started scribbling a short note before scrolling and tying it up on Pig’s leg. “Find Harry Potter for me okay.”
Pig didn’t need a second instruction as he flew out the tiny window, leaving Ron to now make his next move.
“Oh Godric, not now, please.” Ron grimaced as a shot of pain sprang from the wound. It was so blinding that Ron doubled over; the weakening grasp of his arms to the edge of the table was the only thing keeping him on his feet.
Seconds felt like hours, just to ride through the pain until it was nothing more but an annoyance. He went through the drawer once more and took a half filled vial of Essence of Rue and drank it up. He needed all the strength he could muster for the next step.
It was risky, he knew, but it was also the only way Ron decided would work. He made his way back to the staircase as quietly as possible. He could hear the two men talking now but Ron couldn’t make out what they were talking about.
Both of them were facing Hermione, who was still standing at the same exact spot he saw her last. One of them were asking her a question that she refused to answer and it angered the other man enough to give her a tight slap on her face. Hermione didn’t even budge from her spot but the hit was enough to leave a red mark behind.
Ron closed his eyes and prayed he didn’t mess it all up. He knew at the state he was in, he could die doing what he was going to do but death was something Ron wasn’t afraid of anymore.
That’s chess. You have to make some sacrifices.
He pictured the living room and where he wanted to be, which wasn’t that difficult since everything was very familiar to him. And then he felt that tugging feeling that started from his navel and a searing pain from his wound that felt like he was being torn apart and he was lifted off the steps and on to solid ground with a pop.
In that mere second, three things happened.
Hermione’s gasped of surprise to see him there, the two men turning around to face him in a speed of lightning and Ron raising his wand to disarm the man on his right. He yelled ‘stupefy’ at the man on his left, who instantly froze and fell with a thud.
Ron was too slow to react when the disarmed man charged at him though, and he fell on his back, his head hitting the ground with a force so hard, he was surprised he didn’t hear a crack.
The man continued to hit him on his face as he lay there, too weak to even lift his hand. He didn’t hear or see Hermione as she crept up behind the man and kicked him to the side before casting a binding spell on him. Somewhere along the line, she had managed to grab for her wand that Ron had let slipped when he was attacked.
The next thing he knew, Hermione was hovering above him with that look of concern on her face. She was also talking but Ron couldn’t seem to understand her. He was hurting everywhere but even Ron was surprised when he started coughing blood at some point. Yes, death would have been a relief but for the first time in a long time, Ron had never felt so certain about wanting to have Hermione in his life.
After that, everything else seemed to look and feel like a scene out of a muggle’s movie.
There were Harry, Ginny and the twins in the living room, followed by a couple of Aurors Ron wasn’t familiar with. Ginny was crying, Harry was yelling at someone and the twins were trying to convince Hermione to let go of his hand.
And then Neville came out of nowhere, the frown on his face as he made a quick check on his body wasn’t comforting at all. Ron knew he was in trouble now and it was scaring him for some reason. So Ron did the one thing he knew best; he closed his eyes and went flying on his broom.
