Chapter 12
INTERLUDE
Ron, Age 3; Fred and George, Age 5.
A cry tore through the walls of the Burrow. In a room full of obnoxious orange, a toddler forcedly pushed himself in corner, kicking pushing away a giant spider that once had been his favourite teddy.
“Noo! I don’t want that! Mummy! Mummy!” Ronald cries, pushing himself further in the wall.
“‘Mummy! Mummy!’ he says. Not so naughty now, huh, Ronnie?” Fred says, cackling out loud. His twin, however, looks more and more skeptical over the passing minutes. Sure, he was also laughing earlier, seeing their younger brother’s funny face. But the toddler looked more terrified than ever.
“I don’t know, Gred. I think we should stop now. Mum will surely kill us!” little George furrows his eyebrows. When Mum sees their Ronnie crying haplessly, she’s gonna have their heads. She’s bustling in the kitchen more than usual, Percy says that vis-tors are going to come. Percy also says that Mum will be angry if she’s inter-up-ted.
As if to prove his point, a distant ‘Fred, George! Stop tormenting your brother!’ came from downstairs. George is pretty sure that she will come any minute now if Ron won’t stop wailing.
“He deserves it! He broke our broom toy. Mum and Dad won’t let us have one now!” Fred’s voice rose in anger and hurt. He’s pouting, so George at least knows some reasoning is reaching him.
“’M sorry! Ronnie won’t break your toy any more, Freddie.” Ron cries more, as the arachnid slowly made its way to him. “Go away! Make it go away, please! I don’ want this!”
Conflicting emotions tore through the face of the twins. Fred wants to reverse the magic that turned Ronnie’s teddy into a spider now, too. But he doesn’t know how. Panic rose inside Fred. Now he sees Ron curling up to himself, clutching his head and chest. His tiny face red and blotchy.
Heavy footsteps reverberated through the stairs, and the door slammed open revealing their furious Mum.
“Mummy-“
“What in Merlin’s name is happening here?!” the familiar high-pitched scream filled the room.
Molly is quite sure she is sporting a conflicted face right now. When she made her way upstairs, all she had in mind was just scolding her twins for teasing their brother, probably going over with roughhousing. But when she saw the terrified faces of the twins, and the much worse state of her Ronnie, horror crept up to her face.
Her youngest boy is in the corner, curled up to himself. It was more than the usual reaction to the others’ teasing, but what worried her is the way he held his little head and chest. And the abnormal he was breathing. It was fast, as if trying to catch his breathe. And in his face is pure agony. It is a state Molly would never want to see her children to be in.
She immediately went to hold her boy, paying no mind to the giant spider in the room. And when she touched him, she instinctively pulled her hand. He is burning! Touching his forehead and clutching Ron to her embrace, she turned to the twins.
“This is not yet over. I am going to talk to you later, and I want no more of this tricks! I am so disappointed, Fred and George Weasley. How could you do this to your own brother?!” Molly yells, anger palpable in her voice. She felt a bit guilty when she saw the two flinch, emotions going through their faces.
“Go downstairs and fetch your father. Tell him to bring towels and water, because now Ronnie is burning up with fever. After that, you two are ought to go to your room and stay there until I say so. Now go.” The twins reluctantly went and did what she said.
“Mummy, no spiders please,” a crack in his voice, Ron said while burying his face on her neck. He was holding her tightly, scared and tired.
With a wave of her wand, the spider vanished.
“The spider is now gone, baby. Tell Mummy, does anything hurts?” her voice gentle, she inquired to her child. Now that she holds him close, she noticed the increasing heat, and the abnormal breathing, and awful sobs.
“My head hurts, Mummy. And, and it’s so hot,” Ronald sobs, now clutching his head.
“Shh. It’s alright now. Mummy’s here. We’re gonna fix you up, alright? You’re gonna be a good boy, Ronnie.”
When Arthur came, they placed Ron into his bed. Considering her baby’s condition they promptly informed their visitors that they could not accommodate them that day, and possibly for the next few days. They understood, thankfully, and wished her son a fast recovery.
Molly stayed beside Ron for the whole night. She was quite frazzled because no matter what she do, Ronald’s fever just won’t come down. They almost took him to St. Mungo’s, if not for Ron’s recovery the very next day.
She did not notice the tiny ink-like rune in Ronald’s chest.
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Ron, Age 4; Percy, Age 8
After the incident with the spider, Ron proceeded to have occasional similar fevers, despite not having any triggers. It will just appear, on and off. Arthur and Molly doesn’t know what to do anymore. They already took him to St. Mungo’s but even the Healers do not have any ideas regarding the youngest Weasley son’s predicament.
Not long after the appearance of Ron’s illness, the rest of the children subconsciously started to take more care of him. However, that didn’t stop Ron from being emancipated.
One evening, inside the burrow, in the living room where the fireplace is alight, Percy and Ron stays. It was already late, and everybody is sleeping. But not Ron and Percy.
He can’t sleep, and he doesn’t want to disturb Mummy and Daddy. They were already tired. Sometimes, Ron feels sad because his parents always seemed to be down because of him. Because he always get sick, causing them to worry. So he did what he could, he went to the living room, skillfully avoiding all the creaky spots on the floor. Ron is quite proud, he knows where to specifically land his tiny feet. But when he reached the living room, Percy was already there. In front of the fireplace, with a huge book in his lap.
“Percy?” Ron calls him out. Percy gave out a funny squawk, almost jumping out of shock. Ron couldn’t help himself. He laughed out loud, but he quickly covered his mouth.
“Ron? What are you doing here?” Percy says, reaching his arms in invitation. Ron immediately went beside his bespectacled older brother.
“Can’t sleep.” He answers, cuddling close with Percy. The third Weasley promptly held him close, putting a cushion from the couch into his head.
“Oh, why didn’t you call for Mum? Or Dad?”
Ron shook his head. “Don’t want.”
The warm glow of the fire against the dark room gave the brothers comfort.
“Why?” Percy asks.
“Mummy and Daddy looks tired. Don’t wanna wake them up.” Ron tries to explain.
“Alright. Now, do you want to tell me why you can’t sleep?”
Ronald hesitates. He didn’t wanna tell Percy, but he didn’t wanna lie either. Eventually, he gave in and told him.
“I feel heavy here, in my head.” He said, touching his temples and in between his eyebrows. Almost immediately, he saw Percy frown. Ron hates it when people makes frown-y and sad faces around him. It’s like he’s the reason why others are troubled.
“Here?” Percy said, gently massaging the spots that Ron pointed.
“M-hm.” He says, leaning his head towards his brother. “That feels nice.”
“Ronnie, do you feel sick? Do you need to drink potions? Or do you need to go to St. Mungo’s?”
“Nope. Just feels heavy.” He looked up to see Percy’s worried gaze. “Percy. I don’t wanna drink potions anymore.”
‘’Oh Ron, I understand the sentiment. But you know that those are needed so you could get better, right?” Percy continued to massage his head, occasionally twirling his hair.
“Mhm. Mummy and Daddy and Billie said so. But Percy,” there is a pregnant pause before he continued, “We don’t have money anymore, do we? But potions and hospitals cost money.”
Percy was visibly startled. He did not anticipate his younger, four-year-old brother would talk about this matter.
“Ronnie, why would you say that?”
“I heard Aunt Muriel an’ Mummy talking. I know you said that eaves-droop-ing is bad, but I just heard them. Aunt Muriel said that Mummy didn’t know when to stop making babies, so we don’t have any more money cause there’s so many of us.”
“Percy, d’you think we’ll be poorer because of me? Cause I saw Mummy and Daddy give money to the healers last time I was in the hospital.”
Percy muttered incomprehensible words before turning to him.
“Ronnie, you shan’t worry about that. It’s only natural that we bring you to the hospital and give you potion when you are ill. Because we all love you and we want you to get better. Besides, we always get by, right? And Bill is in Hogwarts now. Sooner or later, we all will have high-paying jobs and we’ll be able to have lots of money.”
“Really?” Ron asked in a drowsy voice. He’s starting to feel sleepy because Percy’s hands in his head feels comforting.
“Mhm. And I am going to be a high-ranking officer in the ministry. When that happens, I can give you lots of food, and give you and Fred and George, and Ginny anything you want. And by that time, you’re gonna be tall and strong. You won’t be sick anymore.”
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
Everything was silent for a while. Percy still held Ron close to him. The younger’s breath evened out. One moment, Ron said something that altered the family’s life.
“Percy, don’t tell Mummy, but I got a tattoo.”
A bewildered Percy stared at him in shock. “What?”
“A tattoo. It’s in here, in my chest. It just looks like a scribble, though. I tried to remember, but I don’t know where I got it. It just appeared, like magic!”
He let out a small giggle and he was off to dream world, leaving Percy looking for answers.
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Ron, Age 6; Ginny, Age 5.
Ron sat in the couch, knitting tools in his hand. He’s with Mum and Ginny, helping them make jumpers for the family. Mummy was teaching them, but Ron’s and Ginny’s jumpers just looked like messy yarns.
Ron looked at the yard longingly, where he saw his brothers playing quidditch. Granted, Percy was just on the ground reading some books under the big tree. But all of them were having fun, letting the wind tussle their hair. Ron also wanted to play outside, but he couldn’t. He just had a nasty fever a few days ago, and he is not supposed to be strained.
He touched his chest, where an area is filled with runes. Three years ago, he started having abnormally painful fevers. His head would feel like it was bashed by a troll, and his heart would hurt, and his bones would feel like being sucked dry. It would come occasionally, with no warning at all. Two years ago, a small tattoo-like rune appeared in his chest, just above where his heart is.
At first, it was incomprehensible. Even the healers could not give them any sort of explanation. But then it started spreading every time he has an attack. The runes are nothing like the ones that witches and wizards deal with. It was much, much older and powerful. Seeing that, the adults started speculating that it may be a curse. They asked for help with everyone they knew. Mum and Dad even asked Dumbledore if he had an idea what might the runes mean, but the greatest wizard alive could not give them an answer either.
After turning upside down family heirlooms and bringing out tomes and diaries of distant ancestors, they found out that his illness is a type of blood curse, with a slim possibility of being inherited by descendants. It seems like the origin of the curse is said to be a lovers’ spat, with the Weasley ancestor breaking things off with the other party, who then casted the curse as a revenge. Apparently, it was a very dark magic that the other party was studying, and the very cause of the fall-out.
The adults found it logical, considering the strong values of the Weasley family that is very much adhered to this day. The problem is, there is no known cure to the curse. The accounts from the diaries says that they tried searching for one, even going to the point of searching for the certain ancestor’s former lover. But they never saw her again.
The night after the Weasleys learned about this, Ron roused from his sleep, and found his Dad crying silently. He was beside his bed, muttering apologies of passing such misery to him. As a tall man, Ron always thought of Dad as indestructible and strong and heroic, even with his obsession with muggles. But the supposedly indestructible man was there, holding him close. One hand on top of Ron’s, and the other patting his head ever so gently.
“Daddy is so sorry, Ron. Daddy is very sorry.”
He never brought it up to anyone.
As he reminisced about the past, his chest started to hurt. A tell-tale sign of an incoming attack. His head slowly felt like lead until it hurt, and he was hunching, curling to himself in no time at all.
“Ron? What’s wrong? Mummy!” Ginny called-out to their mother, wide-eyed with panic. Seriously, she should have been used to this by now. It’s not like the first time that this happened.
“Ron, baby, where does it hurt?” Mummy was beside with in a second, holding him close. He saw her flinch, maybe because of the heat. “Ginny, go get a cold, wet towel. Quick!”
“Hurts, Mummy,” Ron said in a weak voice. He hated it when his voice becomes like this. It was barely a whisper, as he was afraid of making the pain more worse.
“Shh. I know, dear. We’ll get you fixed, alright? Charles!” she calls to Charlie. “We’re gonna take you to the hospital, Ronnie. Stay still, okay?”
“Noo, Mum. No more hospitals, please?”
“Oh, Ronnie. You know we have to-“
“They won’t make the hurt go away. They’ll just strap me in a bed, Mummy. I don’t wanna go there.” All he could do was hug her tighter, never letting go with the little strength he has left. “Stay here with me, Mummy. Please?”
“Yes, dear. Mummy’s here. I won’t let you go, alright? I promise.” Then she kissed his hair. It was not enough to take away the pain, but Ron knew that he was safe.
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Ron, Age 9; Ginny, Age 8.
It was a good day. Ron and Ginny is outside, taking advantage of the sunny weather and Ron’s optimal condition. They took a walk to the creek, and had a picnic on the hill, and eventually climbed the tree house that Dad made just for them when Ron felt a little tired.
The house is quiet, with all their older brothers away at Hogwarts. Mum is bustling at the kitchen as usual. Dad is at the ministry, working.
Ron is braiding Ginny’s hair while resting. The two siblings let the cool air wash over them, feeling refreshed after playing under the sun. Ginny thinks they were lucky, Ron had not had any fever for the past few weeks. It seemed like he was getting a bit better, albeit slowly.
“Ronnie,” she called him out.
“Hmn?” he answered, still braiding her hair.
“D’you think Mum would let us go to the town? I heard that the carnival is still going to be there for a couple of days.” Every summer, a carnival would be set up in the little town in St. Ottery Catchpole. It has been a tradition for all the Weasley children to go there every year, usually when Ron is feeling good and is able to go out.
“I dunno, Gin. She might not since Bill and Percy isn’t here to accompany us.” Another tradition is for the older and more responsible brothers to take them there, since Mum and Dad couldn’t just leave their works.
“I’m still gonna ask her. Maybe our luck will hold out by then,” she said teasingly at Ron, who lightly pinched her ears as a retaliation. In the end, they both engaged in a tickle fight and made her braided hair into a frazzled mess.
Her happy squeals filled the tree house. Even Ron is grinning from ear to ear. The happy moment, however, was abruptly stopped when Ron suddenly clutched his head.
"Ronnie?" she said, immediately tapping him gently.
"Hurts, Ginny..." he said, curling up to himself. He was gripping his hair harshly with both hands.
"Wait here. I'll go get Mum."
She ran to the house as fast as she could screaming for Molly on the way. A shocked and panic-stricken Molly blasted the door open, frantically asking for what happened.
"Mummy, it's Ronnie. He's-"
It wasn't needed to be said. The missus hastily brought her son inside, tucking him in his bed in an efficient manner.
There was no potion given, and he wasn't brought to the hospital. Just comfort from his loved ones. This has been a protocol now, since it has been a normal occurence for quite some time.
They all thought that after this attack, Ronnie will recover, just as he always have. Oh, how wrong they were.
The fever plagued Ron into the night. And the next day after. And the day after that. The fever refused to go away, even with all the potions they eventually gave him. The illness has already affected his appetite and sleep, with it was way much worse this time. He couldn't eat anything even if he wanted to. He just vomit it out right after.
After a week of having fever, consciously, Ron fell into a coma-like state. He wouldn't wake up, but he'd still groan and whimper in his sleep. Molly couldn't do anything for her baby. They brought him to stay at St. Mungo's with the hopes of alevating even a little amount of Ron's discomfort, to no avail.
"Arthur, I don't know what to do anymore. My baby is lying there, possibly fighting for his life. I can't take this anymore!" All the woman could do was to cry with her husband, while holding her son's hand with dear life.
Three weeks after Ron was admitted to the hospital, the healers announced something that broke the family's world.
"Mister and Missus Weasley, I am very sorry to say that your son might not make it." The solemn expression of the healer only added to Molly's distress. Her son might not make it? What?
"W, what do you mean he might not make it? He's right here! In the hospital! This is the most prestigious wizarding medical facility in all of England!" Molly was frantic. She could not, would not believe what this damned healer is saying. Of course her baby would survive, just as he always did.
"I am really sorry, Mrs. Weasley. But, your son's internal organs appear to be in a state of errosion. The curse is slowly eating him inside out. By now, death would be a mercy compared to what he's going through."
"How could you even say that? My son is right here, breathing!"
"Ma'am, please be reasonable. We are not telling you to kill your son. All we are saying is that he might not make it. We just want you to be prepared for what might happen-" the rather young healer was immediately cut off by her colleague.
They immediately pulled her out after apologizing constantly. Arthur just told them to go, as he didn't have any energy to argue with them anymore.
"I can't lose my baby, Arthur. I, we can't lose Ron. Please," the woman bawled her eyes out at the arms of her husband. Refusing any possibility that Ron might really die.
But a week after that, Ron's condition worsened. One night, he took his son's hand and gently caressed it.
"Are you really tired, son? Could you not open your eyes, even for a little bit? Dad's here now, I won't go anywhere. You have to get better, Ron. I haven't even taken you out in the muggle world, after all. I want to take you and your sibling to the cinema. It's an amazing contraption, you see. I'm sure you would enjoy that more than anyone."
Tears filled the eyes of the tall man. He couldn't believe, doesn't even want to think of the possibility of burying any of his children.
"But if you're really tired, then you can rest. We would be sad, and angry, but... It's not fair that you get to have this misery, Ron. I would take it any moment if I could."
Arthur excused all of his sons from Hogwarts the very next day. All of them were confused why, but a streak of fear could be seen in their faces. Arthur held them in a corner, explaining the circumstances.
"The healers said, said that there is a huge possibility that your brother might not make it."
"Dad-"
"I brought you here so that you won't have any regrets."
"Bullshit. You all know that we would always have," Fred says, Indignation in his voice. What he said was true. After all these years, he still blamed his self for causing Ron's first bout of sickness. If he only had been more patient for his then three-year old brother, the curse might have not been triggered.
"Language, young man."
"What about Mo- Mum?" Percy asked, cutting the argument off. "What did Mum say? Is she alright?"
"Your Mum's a bit disoriented. Do not tell her the reason why I brought you here. Just tell her that you're here to visit."
The atmosphere around them was heavy, they could hardly breathe. Tears threatened to fall from their eyes, with the thought of their baby brother possibly dying. Bill clenched his hands so much that his fingers drew blood from his palms.
It was too much to see their Ron on that state, whimpering and full of agony. But what really broke them down was their mother, crying her heart out for all to see. She never left Ron's side, not even when she saw them. Ginny is on a corner, refusing to acknowledge any of this.
The healers decided to move Ron to a different ward. One that is given significantly less attention. They already deemed him to be a hopeless case, as there is no cure for his curse.
Mum refused to go, however.
"Just one night. Let him be for just another night, please. I believe in my son. He will overcome this, he will wake up..."
It was an agonizing night for all of them. The groans and cries that Ron made somehow became louder. But still, Mum refused to let go of his hand. Saying encouraging things over and over again.
By morning, a miracle came. Ronald Weasley wake up from his almost month-long coma-like state. He was tired, and nauseous, and burning with fever, but he is awake. When the fever eventually died down, all Weasleys sighed in relief. Billy and Charlie ruffled his hair, which elicited a weak 'hey!' from Ronald. Percy smothered him with hugs. The twins both gave him a kiss on his forehead, whispering things like 'never scaring them like that again'. Ginny was glued to his side, sleeping on his bed. She seemed drained after all the recent events. Mum and Dad held each other, happiness is vivid on their faces.
For some reason, Ron never had any sickness since then. The runes vanished. Fever never came, not even a cough or cold. They all thought that it was that. That Ron finally recovered for real.
Oh, how wrong they were.