Chapter 14
“Hey, did you hear?” a student asked a boy next to her.
“Hear what?” the boy said, fixing his hair.
“About what happened last night! The Gryffindors were saying that Black was here, you know?”
“I know, I was there at the Great Hall with you!”
“What about-“
The whole castle was abuzz. The Hogwarts Rumor Mill is spinning faster than ever, from the multiple events that happened yesterday up until last night. Wayne Hopkins, a third-year Hufflepuff watched as students talks avidly with their own circles. Yesterday was their year’s first ever Hogsmeade visit and boy, it was wonderful. He and his mates followed their kind seniors when they went to the village. A couple of the older boys told them the best spots and some tips. Wayne could easily declare it as one of the best days in his life. The feast was also a sight to behold, enchanting them from the adrenaline-high adventure. They ate and talked and celebrated until they couldn’t anymore.
Last night, however, they were disturbed when they were told to head to the Great Hall. Apparently, Sirius-bloody-Black broke into the castle. The Hogwarts castle. Supposedly safest-place in the world. Protected by the greatest wizard alive. Hah.
Wayne could hardly believe it. Not. Seriously, his Da said amazing things like the castle being magnificent, and the lake having a literal giant squid, and having flying brooms, and safe. Well, if you could consider having a pseudo-dark lord as your teacher or a secret chamber containing a literal basilisk who targets your schoolmates, then yeah. Sure.
He was so frustrated that he ranted deep in the night to Justin and Ernie. With hushed whispers, of course. The prefects are patrolling like crazy, especially the Head boy. And well, that may or may not be a good idea. After a while, they suddenly heard Weasley groaning and Potter and Granger panicking. Now, this is not a strange sight anymore. After three years of attending school with them, almost everybody in their year knows that strange things somehow manages to always, always be around the trio. Take this Black-incident for example.
Back to the topic, Wayne and his mates peered from their blankets. Potter looked more frantic, and the Head boy, Weasley’s older brother came to them. Other students were also starting to stir from their sleeps. They were not exactly being quiet, after all. Next thing they knew, Weasley was being levitated in the air by Head Boy Weasley with Potter following behind. Granger shook the other Weasleys awake and almost everyone on Gryffindor was asking what was wrong. They all refused to answer however, and immediately went after the other three, presumably to the hospital wing.
Now, everyone is sleep-deprived but somehow has the energy to talk. Potter, Granger, and the Weasleys were not seen until third period. Ronald, his year mate, isn’t seen with them in class.
Well. So much for a magical school.
-------------------------------
7 in the morning, Ronald woke up with a pile of bodies surrounding his bed. The bodies, namely his siblings, Harry and Hermione. They were all asleep, no doubt exhausted from last night. Percy was on a chair not far from him reading a book. Or so he thought. His bespectacled older brother’s red-rimmed eyes seemed to be in glaze, as if not seeing the book in front of him at all.
“Percy?” Ron called out to the dazed teen. He flinched at the hoarseness of his voice.
The older boy woke up in his reverie, promptly putting down his book to get by Ron’s side.
“How are you, Ron?” Percy said, putting a hand in his forehead. “How do you feel?”
“I feel alright, actually. My head no longer hurts that much.” He is telling the truth. While there is still a dull thumping in his head, it is leagues better than last night’s. It is already a constant that he has to live with for all his years, so it doesn’t bother him anymore.
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm.”
“Oh, Ron.” Percy let out a sigh of relief. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”
“’m sorry, Perce. I didn’t mean to.” He lowered his head. Ronald understands how much he bothered his family and friends last night. Especially Percy, who was already busy keeping things under control because of Sirius Black.
“Stop that.” His older brother said sharply. “I know that look, Ron. It’s not your fault that you fell ill, and you were never a bother. It’s just that, why didn’t you say anything? You said last night- earlier – that this has been going on since September. Two whole months ago, Ronald.”
He fiddled his thumbs as he kept his lowered gaze. He knows he’s wrong, and his family is only worried.
“I didn’t want to bother you or anyone.” He murmurs but that still reached his brother’s ears. Percy was about to protest but he cut him off. “And I was scared. Because I know that it will eventually come to this. I don’t want to go back to how I am before, Perce. I don’t want to take potions and be trapped in the hospital when they clearly don’t solve anything again. I’m afraid and I don’t wanna be sick but we can’t do anything. Telling someone will only burden them because Percy, we all know that there’s no cure.”
All the tears he kept poured down. Ronald thought his tears had already dried out a long time ago, when he wept and wailed as a little kid. But it clearly wasn’t the case. He sobbed and cried, as he told his brothers his fears and apprehensions he had inside.
Suddenly, he felt not one, but two pairs of arms enveloped him.
“You idiot.” A voice said, voice cracking. It was suspiciously tight, like the owner of the voice is trying not to cry.
“What ‘burdened’ are you talking about? D’you think we’re fragile little things? Weasleys are sturdy lots, you dolt.”
He sobbed and wailed at the arms of brothers. Fred and George held him gently, but tightly enough that he could feel their heartbeats.
“We’re your siblings and we want to take care of you. What kind of rubbish has entered your head to think otherwise?” Ginny who was now awake, said. There are also tears in her eyes.
“I don’t think of that. I, I just don’t want to be a burden-“
“I thought we’re family?” Harry said. Hurt was in his voice, feeling betrayed. “And I thought family takes care of one another?”
“We are! But I,” he said. He doesn’t know what to say anymore. “I’m sorry.”
“Alright,” Percy said with a sigh. “But no more secrets like this, you hear? Mum’s pretty adamant about sending you to St. Mungo’s for a more thorough check-up last night.”
Ronald groaned at the memory of the almost-argument between him and his mother. Molly Weasley is and undefeated champion in the battles of sheer will, but Ronald just couldn’t give her what she wants. Not this one.
Everyone settled in a comfortable silence when Ron’s stomach let out a loud and long growl. They all froze for a moment… and then erupted in laughter.
“Good Merlin, Ron!” Fred exclaimed, clutching his sides.
“You’d think you’ve hidden a band in there!” said George in a manner very similar to his twin.
“What?” he said in a defensive tone. “I didn’t get to enjoy the food last night, you know? Not even the treats from Honeyduke’s!”
“Sure, Ronnie-“ Ginny says in a jolly voice. She’s grinning and her eyes full of mirth. “We totally believe you.”
They all laughed at him but then… Percy’s and then Hermione’s and Harry’s tummies also let out a growling sound.
“Welp, seems like not only Ron has a band in his stomach.” Percy said, feigning a casual façade with a very red face.
“There’s an orchestra in here,” said Hermione sheepishly.
Not a moment later, they were all laughing their arse off, with Fred and George twisting themselves on the floor. A weak ‘hey!’ could be heard among the chorus of giggles and barks of laughter.
“Oh, this lot looks like they’re having fun!” a cheery greeting came from the matron of the hospital wing. Together with her was Molly and Arthur Weasley, and Professor McGonagall.
“Well then, let’s have a little look,” Madame Pomfrey said as she approached Ron. She gave her wand a little wave, muttering words that may as well be diagnostic spells. If she found something fatal, they wouldn’t know as she kept the tiny smile in her face. “Looks like you only have a slight fever, dear. But to be sure, I need to keep you here for a bit – until dinner, I suppose. How do you feel?”
“Fine, Madame Pomfrey. Better than last night, at least.”
“Wonderful. Now, I imagine you are all famished by now. And since not all of you are actually patients, I’m gonna have to make head to the kitchens. Except from Ronald, of course.” Before protest could even be voice out from the teenagers, the matron already shushed them off. “Go on. I have to talk with him and your parents first.”
“We’ll tell you when we are about to leave. Have some breakfast now,” Mum said and Dad gave an approving nod.
“And fix yourselves. Have a bit of a shower, all of you. And then, attend your classes.” A stern gaze from the Gryffindor professor got all the students nodding.
Harry, who was suddenly beside him whispered, “You’ll be fine, right? And you’ll explain to me because we’re family?”
Ron gave him long stare. His best friend, with all his messy hair and emerald eyes filled with worry. Ron couldn’t help but feel warm about the fact that Harry cared about him. About two years ago the concept of a caring family seemed foreign to his friend. He still looks bewildered when his family and Hermione extended care towards him. Now, he’s here, embracing the fact that he’s his brother, and a part of their little brood.
“Yeah, mate. I promise.” Ron gave him the brightest smile he could muster. “Now get out of here. Your mouth smells stinky!”
“Oi!”
“Now, Mister Potter.” Professor McGonagall said with a little bit of more assertion. Now that he looked around, he saw the others at the threshold of the hospital wing.
“Yes, Professor.”
His friends and siblings all waved him goodbye. Madame Pomfrey prompted him to sit in his bed, adjusting his bed to incline and support his back. His mother fussed over him, fixing his pillows and all.
“You look hungry, dear. Do you want to eat first?” said his Mum.
“If it’s alright, please. I’m kind of starving so,”
“Sure. And then we’ll talk after. Arthur, dear, could you please ask for a meal in the kitchen?”
“There’s no need. Nilly?” the mediwitch called out in the air. There was an audible pop and a house-elf appeared out of nowhere. The little creature wore a pillowcase whiter and cleaner than most house-elf like itself.
“Yes, Madam Poofreys? How can Nilly help?” she said with a hopeful expression on her face.
“Could I please ask for a bowl of porridge from the kitchen? Our patient right here is in dire need of some incredibly nutritious food. And oh, please ask for a meal fit for three more adults.”
“Nilly understand, Madams! Nillly be right back!”
That was how Ron came to have a porridge full of meat and vegetable in his table. He ate his breakfast with his Mum and Dad, and also Madam Pomfrey. They talked about his Dad’s days in the ministry, and Mum with his latest issue of Witch weekly, and his days in the castle. Ron just realized how much he really missed his parents, especially his mum. She was usually the one who kept him company whenever he got sick in the past. These certain peace he felt gave him an urge to capture it and hide it away forever.
Unfortunately, those moments quickly shattered as they finished their meal. His parents sat on both sides of his bed, and the matron stood at the end.
“So Ron,” his Dad said, patting his head for a bit. “What do you know about your current condition? Is there anything we need to know about?”
“I, I already told Mum everything earlier, Dad. This started during the train ride, when the dementors came. I felt a little headache from time-to-time, but this is actually the first time I had a full-blown fever.”
“Dearie, would you really not consider St. Mungo’s? I have no doubt about Madam Pomfrey’s skills, but at least the hospital has healers who are more experienced in your situation.” His mum said in a much more placating voice than last night’s.
“I’m sorry, Mum. But… the hospital doesn’t really have a cure for me, does it? And that place is just full of bad memories. I doubt I’ll ever get better in that case.” And staying in the hospital would cost us galleons. We couldn’t really afford that, with five of us currently in school. He leaned toward his father’s hand that was patting his head. Arthur brushed his ginger hair as he hugged his son.
“And I don’t want to leave my friends and the others here, Mum. I’m finally having a normal childhood. I actually get to play with my peers, and do silly things, and-“ he did not noticed the heavy breathing he let on. His hands were clammy, and loud, fast beats pounded in his chest.
“Shh, son. Relax for a bit, then three, two, one, and breathe. That’s right, Ronnie. Good job.” His Dad held his hands as looked into his eyes.
“I don’t wanna leave, Mum. Dad.” He said pleadingly as he devoured heaps of air.
“Alright,” Molly could not do anything but relent at the pleas of her youngest son. This is the least she could do to make him happy. She moved beside her husband and held her Ronnie in her arms. “But you will have scheduled meetings with Madam Pomfrey, and you will tell your siblings if you ever feel strange. One small lie and you’re in an automatic trip to the hospital. You hear me, young man?”
“Yes, Mum.”
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Ron spent most of the day sleeping. He was making the most out of his time to rest and recover from all those sleepless nights. Dad went to work late in the morning, when he was sleeping. Mum stayed by his side, until a fussy owl came with a letter that sent her into a fusion of a bustling energy and nervousness. When afternoon came by, all of his friends and siblings crowded his bed. They were all kicked out by the matron, however, and mother herded them out. She claimed that she needed to needed to do about something that she did not specify.
Harry and Hermione stayed. Ron honestly dreaded about this conversation. It made him afraid of what his friends might think of him. Will they be disgusted? Will they pity him? Will they avoid him once they learn that there’s a chance that he might just die one of these days?
“So,” he starts, eyes darting everywhere but them. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything, I suppose.” Said Hermione rather quickly. The fidgeting of her fingers and hair made evidence of anxiety creeping up to her.
“What illness are your family talking about? Will you be fine?” said Harry.
“I don’t know how to start,” he tells them.
“Then tell us first what this fever is about.” The bushy-haired girl said with finality.
And so he tells them. About the first time he had this sort of fever, how it appeared rather frequently throughout his childhood. He tells them the accounts about the curses. He showed them the runes spanning in his torso. He tells them about the times in the hospital, and the bed rests. He tells them about Bill, and his quest of finding answers about the blood curse.
He doesn’t tell them the lack of the cure, because he can’t. But Hermione, bright as she is, figure it out. And maybe Harry too, he guesses from the horror drawn in his face.
His best friends moved to his sides somewhere along his explanation, each holding his hand for dear life. They were pale, and they leaned on him as if asking for strength. Tears dripped from Hermione’s eyes, devastated at his news. She sobs questions, asking him why he didn’t tell them earlier. Harry, Harry’s eyes were blank. They were void of emotion like Ron had never seen of his best mate. But the grip on his hands were tight, as if afraid of ever letting go.
As he finished his little autobiography, heavy silence draped upon them. Ron fell asleep, with his best friends by his sides. When he woke up, they were still there.
“We’re going to figure it out,” said Hermione. There is an iron-clad determination in her voice, the voice she used when they faced the maze during first year, and the chamber incident on the second. “Like we always do. I promise you that, Ronald.”
Ron wanted to tell her otherwise, with all the consultations with experts and countless potions intake and endless hospital visits. He didn’t, however. He did not have heart to tell her so.
He was surprised when Harry laid down on his bed… and hugged him. He hugged the redhead so tightly that Ron felt the tremors on his hands. One thing that made this even more surprising is that Harry never initiates physical affections. Sure, he accepts hugs and pats in the back, but never did he ever started one. Ron suspects those bloody relatives of his as the reason. His best friend never explicitly mentions it, but he noticed things like those too big clothes when they first met, or the way Harry sometimes flinches away, and the gauntness of his face whenever he comes back from summer vacation. And those awful, bloody bars in his window.
Seeing Harry now, though…
“It’s not fair, Ron.” Harry said, voice clogged. He snuggled closer to him, his face on the sick redhead’s chest. “I just found a family. After all those years with the Dursleys, I found a brother. Why does the world wants to take you away too. I already lost my Mum and Dad. Why you, too?”
“Harry…”
Ron honestly doesn’t know what to say. Tell Harry that everything’s going to be fine? But he knows that it isn’t. There’s no cure and he might be gone any day now. So he said nothing. Instead, he just pulled the raven-haired boy closer to him.
“What are you talking about?” Hermione said, her voice also wavering. Tears filled her eyes, but she is determined to not let them fall. “Ron is still here. He’s with us and we are going to keep it that way. Didn’t you hear what I said? I told you we’re going to figure it out.” She sniffed and joined them in his bed.
“You’re going to be fine, Ron. I promise you that.”