Sorrow Looks Back
Ron always thought that his home was too small. He was always knocking things over, hitting doorjambs, corners of tables and, bumping his head on lamps. Especially after spending nine months every year in a castle as big as Hogwarts, coming back to the Burrow would make him feel like a giant walking into a rabbit hole.
But now he felt like he is drowning in all the space of his home. He never knew his brain had this ability to look all these spaces, the nooks and crannies and associate them with obscure memories. Memories of Fred that would spring up on him without warning and it became hard to breathe. He would look at the kitchen table and see Fred with his feet up the table that he would hastily put down whenever he thought he heard Mum coming down. Ron would look at the barn and remember Fred and George sneaking out of it after hiding their many contraband safely out of prying gazes. He could hear Arthur laughing at Fred’s impression of Aunt Muriel. He could hear Percy yelling for his glasses which Fred had bewitched to fly behind Percy’s head. Ginny had laughed so hard that day, Mum had to give her a calming draught. But it didn't seem funny now, just sad.
He didn’t even know he remembered all of these things and every time these memories hit him, it felt like a punch in the gut. His heart would twist in his chest and he would wish he could just crawl into a corner and die. He would wish his house had been smaller so that he wouldn’t have to bear the weight of all the laughter and fights and memories that were seeped into every inch of the bloody building. The house felt like it was crushing him down. He wished he was anywhere but here. And he knew he couldn’t be anywhere else.
Ron has left his family and gone with Harry. He had left his family to deal with the war without him. He knew he was not on a merry vacation while his family faced the war but the truth was that he was not with them. He was not with Ginny at Hogwarts while she faced the tyranny of the Carrows. He was not with Arthur and Bill while they went to their jobs everyday and did everything to keep their families safe. He was not there with Molly when she had to keep her wits about while worrying endlessly about everything. He wasn’t with Fred and George… he wasn’t with Fred and now he can never be.
Ron knew he wouldn’t have been a big help to any of them. No one really needed him. They had all managed quite well without him. They never gave up. Each and every one of them fought with all they had and Ron couldn’t be prouder. They didn’t need saving then, but they need to be saved now.
With Molly and Arthur hardly stepping out of their rooms, George drowning in his grief and Hermione and Harry needing their time to heal, there was too much to do around the house. And Ron found his solace in that. He needed to keep himself busy or he would completely unravel.
Bill and Fleur did what they could but Fleur wanted to visit her family after the war, so they went to France after Fred’s funeral.
Percy was taking care of George and keeping him safe from himself. Percy had taken George to his home in London as George couldn’t even bear to go back to the flat he had shared with Fred let alone stay in his room at the Burrow. A part of Ron's mind felt relief. It was hard to see George's face and not see Fred. He knew it was selfish and really fucked up but that was how he felt.
Charlie had stayed at Burrow. Ron had grown apart from Charlie in the last few years, meeting only for a few days every year but the two brothers connected in their grief. Ron saw how calm and cool Charlie was. There was a way about Charlie that made Ron feel that he had everything under control. His presence eased the knot in Ron's chest. While with Ron, Molly would let herself go and cry for hours, with Charlie, she seemed to find peace. Charlie could also get Arthur to eat which Ron hadn’t managed to do. Ron would forever be grateful for Charlie’s presence in the house.
Harry had taken shelter with Ginny. They became each other’s sanctuary. Ginny was able to get through to Harry in a way Ron just couldn’t. Ron was relieved that Harry and Ginny had each other. They needed each other and frankly they had paid their dues. They had sacrificed enough. Hell Harry even sacrificed himself. The memory of Harry’s body in Hagrid’s arms would cause a surge of panic in Ron. He would get up and look for Harry frantically and would only relax after he had found him, breathing and alive.
And then there was Hermione. She had been so strong all through the battle. She just kept fighting till the end. She even fought with Bellatrix. Ron just couldn't fathom how much strength that must have taken. To face someone who tortured you senseless, who came very close to killing you. Ron realised that there was never going to be time when he was not in awe of Hermione. And when she collapsed while Kingsley was interrogating them, Ron was quite surprised with himself too. He had lost his mind. He had shouted at Kingsley for not giving them some time to rest. He had screamed at the Ministry fella till he summoned a Healer to the Common Room. He had then held Hermione's hand all the while she was being treated. Kingsley had the grace of apologising and told them he would talk to them later. Ron didn't even nod. He kept his finger at the pulse in Hermione's wrist. The faint thum-thum kept the dark thoughts that were creeping up on him at bay. Her pulse was his patronus in that moment.
Hermione had taken a nasty curse to her shoulder during the battle. The curse spread slowly and reached her chest and right arm before the healer detected it and removed it. The healer set her up with a few potions and told Ron that she needed to rest. He suggested a stay at St. Mungo's but the hospital was overflowing right now. Harry told Ron that they would take care of her at the Burrow. Ron selfishly agreed. He didn't want her out of his sight.
Ron had set Hermione up in Percy’s old room after the first night. He had hoped that all the books in Percy’s room would comfort her in some way. He felt guilty ignoring the healer's advice and wanted to send her to St. Mungo’s but she flat out refused to go anywhere. Ron knew he shouldn't have brought her back home in the first place and now she wasn't going to listen to him. She was having trouble with breathing sometimes and couldn’t hold anything with her right hand but she was supposed to make a full recovery in a few weeks.
Hermione’s condition was bad but Ron knew that she would recover from that. The thing that scared Ron were her dreams. The second night after coming back to the Burrow, Ron was trudging up the stairs to his room when he heard it. There was sound coming from her room. He knocked but there was no answer. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what he should do. He told himself he had probably imagined it when he heard it again. It sounded like Hermione was crying. He unlocked the door and entered hurriedly. Hermione was in the bed, sheet tangled around her as she turned and twisted, still asleep. She was dreaming and not a happy dream. She was clearly in pain; tossing and groaning. Ron stood dumbfounded at the door as her groans became louder. Whimpers turned into words, words turned into sentences. Sentences of pleading.
“I didn’t take any thing. I swear I don’t know.”
She screamed. The same scream that would forever be branded in his head. The worst thing he had ever heard. He rushed to her and pulled her up into a sitting position. He heard other people enter the room and concerned voices behind him but he could only see Hermione’s face contorted by pain. She screamed again. He shook her roughly to get her to wake up. She was sobbing now.
“I swear… I didn’t…”
Ron felt a huge lump grow in his throat. She was struggling in his grip. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. He felt his eyes sting with tears. He couldn’t watch her like this. There were people talking behind him. He felt hot tears fall down his face and he started rocking her gently.
“Please. Please. Please stop. Come back. Hermione please come back, its not real. It's not real. She is gone," he cried in her ears.
Someone put a trembling hand on his shoulder as Ginny’s scared face came into his view, she was looking through Hermione’s potions.
“There must be something here for this,” Ginny muttered desperately.
Hermione opened her eyes with a gasp and she looked around frantically, pulling away from Ron.
“Hermione? Hermione are you ok?” It was Harry with the trembling hand on Ron's shoulder. He let go and kneeled next to the bed. Ginny gave up looking for a cure and stood up, also shaking. Hermione looked at the three of them around her and finally seemed to realise that she was only dreaming. She zeroed in on Ron’s face and then suddenly threw herself in his arms and broke down. She was sobbing, drawing long breaths, clutching at Ron as if she would drown if she let go. Ron has never seen her like this. His heart twisted in his chest as she cried and cried and cried. He held her tight against himself and rocked her back and forth. He didn’t realise when Harry and Ginny left the room, closing the door behind them.
“It’s ok. It’s ok Hermione. You are safe. You are safe. She is gone. She is gone,” Ron kept telling her. After a while, her body stopped shaking and her sobs died down. Her grip on Ron loosened and she finally dozed off (or passed out, Ron couldn’t be sure) in his arms. Ron put her down softly but he didn’t let go of her completely. He kept her hand wrapped safely in his as he sat down beside the bed. The thump-thump keeping him sane.
He decided he will stay with her, always ready, to hold her, wake her, soothe her when the nightmares came. He had left her once and he wasn’t going to do that again.