Chapter Two

"Ron." A voice breathed into his ear. He knew who it was; he had never closed his eyes. He hadn't dared.

Ron's dull blue eyes blink in recognition. The rich burgundy canopy was all that his sight could take in. She looked too much like Mum.

"Couldn't sleep?" Ginny spoke gently.

He shook his head.

"Me neither. I did but off and on. Are you coming down for breakfast?"

He shook his head.

"Are you going to just shower while we're down there?"

He nodded his head.

"Of course." She smiled, sitting next to him. "I should have known you would. You like showers. You're able to think…or not."

He nodded his head.

Virginia Weasley knew the morning routine. She would knock on the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitory, let in by Harry or Dean (today it was Seamus), and walk over to her big brother's bed. Everyday she would hope that his eyes would be closed and not just caught in a long blink or a quick doze but shut only to sleep. And everyday he would stare at the ceiling, avoiding her looks. Her eyes, she knew. Percy used to always say that she had Mum's eyes.

Each morning was a letdown because Ron was never Ron. He was always trapped within himself. She could see it. She saw the battle that played out behind his eyes. Grief was always the victor.

"I miss Mum too." She squeaked out. Her whole resolve shook at the thought of her mother.

Ginny thought that this was just grief finally settling into Ron. Maybe even guilt. The Weasley matriarch suffered a massive stroke as worry and heartache overtook her. Late last school year, around April, Ron and Charlie - along with Hermione, Harry and somehow Luna– were taken captive in an unknown, nearby dragon camp. The whole plot behind the trickery is complex but all that is and will ever be known is that the Dark Lord was trying to recruit dragons for his arsenal and Charlie was in the wrong place at the right time. Not knowing what was happening or seeing her children, Mrs. Weasley worked herself into a frenzy, causing the stress to calumniate into death.

Ginny gazed down at her brother whose eyes shone with tears. A few had even escaped, trickling down the sides of his face and along his jaw line.

"I'm going now. I'm sorry I brought her up."

As she prepared to leave, a cool hand rested on hers. She covered Ron's freckled hand with her left hand. "Thank you. I know if you could, you'd comfort me properly. Take your time. I'll still be here."

All occupants soon cleared out of the room. Ron followed after them, his school supplies and some other bathroom essentials in tow, and turned right when the chance allowed him.

Once inside the Gryffindor shower hall, he regretfully stripped down and ducked quickly under the shower, not letting the frigid water warm to a decent temperature. He couldn't stand being so nude or so open. That was the only reason he quit Quidditch. He regretted his decision because he missed playing, flying, blocking, cheering, yelling, cursing, and any other action one could appropriately do while on the Quidditch pitch.

He washed himself slowly, trying to take up as much time as he most possibly could. He avoided certain areas of himself. He didn't like those parts because of their ability to respond and please. He slid down the tiled wall of the shower, in a daze, not caring that the bell had sounded.

In another part of the school, near underside of the castle, Hermione and Harry were heading towards the Potions Dungeon.

"What can we do about him?"

"Harry, I really don't know. He seems to be fully grieving his mother but then again I think there is more. I want to ask, I
have asked, but no response. Never a word or clear acknowledgement." Sighed Hermione as she sat down.

"I hate this. I can be the expected savior of this world but I can't save the one person that I care about." Harry whispered
exasperatingly. "He's not here. If there's one thing we can depend on with the new Ron is that he's always in class early. Maybe I should go find him."

"He may have lost track of time in the shower." Hermione began to take out some parchment, her quill and ink well. "I'll copy the instructions on the board but please hurry."

Harry left swiftly. If Ron was in the shower stalls, perhaps he could get him back a few moments after the bell sounded.

How wrong Harry was. Ron, hearing the bell and forgoing his usual timely appearance in class, decided to take the long leisurely way to the Potions Dungeons after drying himself off. He had discovered the route while on a midnight stroll.

Ron padded down the corridors.

"Look who it is. What a sight to see. The broken Weasley stands alone. How pathetic. One would think that you would be one jubilant fool. With your mother dead, your family can afford to buy a new robe or at least some fashionable patches to cover up the holes."

Malfoy had decided to lavish in an extra long bath but he unfortunately missed the warning bell. No worries. There was always a Weasley to cause a Malfoy's day to brighten.

"Can't speak up?"

Ron walked on. All hopes of having a decent day went in a puff of smoke. He rounded the corner and there was the Potions class entrance. He could see cauldron's steaming already.

"You had better stop when I speak to you."

Ron did as he was told. He was right outside the doorway anyway. He turned to look upon his tormentor.

Draco still had shockingly blonde hair, angular features and hard eyes. He had grown over the past two years and he now stood an inch of two below Ron's 6' 3" stature. The Slytherin slithered towards its prey.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You're no fun."

Ron shrugged.

"I know that you feel uncomfortable around blokes." He sauntered closer to the timid young man who had pressed his back against the wall.

"I thought so. When I heard you punched out a younger Gryffindork for touching you, I knew you were either a closeted queer or a hater of all those queers. Good to have that knowledge handy." He muttered so Snape could not hear them.

Ron turned his head so he couldn't see Malfoy as he leaned into his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, balled his fists, and breathed in a shallow rhythm.

Malfoy noticed the sudden change in Weasley. He took this opportunity, leaning into Ron's neck and inhaled, brushing the tip
of his nose faintly against the speckled neck. "You just got out of the shower as well."

The redhead's breathing hitched. He tried to stay in control but it was getting harder to do as Malfoy pressed his body close to Ron's. The wealthier of the two placed a firm hand in front of Ron's turned head, planting his palm flush against the wall. He then ran his free hand across the slightly taller teen's shoulder, taking his bag strap off and dropping it onto the floor soundlessly. Next, the refined hand ghosted down the side of Ron's torso forcing him to involuntarily shudder.

A wicked idea suddenly pop into Draco's mind. The hand that was against the wall quickly took Ron's chin between its thumb and forefinger and silently commanded the face to look into its master's eyes. The blonde lowered his head close to the trembling lips of Ron who opened his eyes only to shut them once again.

"How do you like us queers now?" He thrusted his hips forward.

Ron's world shattered instantly. His eyes flew open. Their private places of pleasure touched. That was never to happen.

"Don't touch me."

"So the Weasley can speak!" Draco pronounced loudly. He went over to the open doorway. "Professor! Class!" He announced pompously."He spoke!" He smirked at Ron who had changed a sudden color of red. "Say it again."

"Don't touch me! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

The class was in an uproar. Stools screeched against the stone floor as students rushed to see the miraculous event.

Harry reappeared, breathless, from around the corner.

Ron snapped. He lunged at Draco, crashing onto the floor. The two toppled and Ron began to blindly swing at the pinioned Slytherin.

Tears blinded Ron to his actions and the red seeped into his blood. He vaguely heard screams. From students, Snape, Harry perhaps, or Draco. He couldn't decipher. All he heard was: "Don't touch me."

At some point a heavy burden fell onto his back. He flung it off. He had to get rid of this annoyance. The intruder.

"MR. WEASLEY!"

Ron didn't care. Below him was the enemy. His fists were inflamed, aching. He quickly made the instinctual decision to
straggle. His large hands had finally come into good use. Wrapped around the soft neck, Ron constricted his hands as tightly as possible. Claws dug into his skin but he paid no mind.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" More unidentified voices. "STAND BACK! HE'S NOT IN HIS RIGHT MIND!"   

His world dissolved as everything grew quiet. No more scratching; no more yelling; no more movement. He had finally prevailed. If this is what it felt like the defeat the monster, he would have to tell Harry to hurry and kill the Dark Lord for it felt splendid.

"He killed him!" Some girl screeched.

"Impedimenta!" A strong voice called sending Ron flying into the nearest wall.

He was at long last awakened from his state. Draco lay a few feet in front of him, motionless, neck already bruising, and eyes lidded. Harry sat against the doorway still sprawled out from when Ron knocked him off. He seemed to be nursing a broken or sprained elbow. The rest of the class had somehow formed a semicircle barrier to contain the fight.

And there was Dumbledore. How the man knew what was going on was beyond Ron.

"Ms. Parkinson," he summoned, "go ahead and tell Madam Pomfrey we'll be on our way with an unconscious victim and another with a probable broken elbow."

The girl ran off reluctantly.

"Severus, collect Mr. Malfoy while I stay here with the rest of the class and Mr. Weasley. I'll try and figure out what went wrong here."

"Of course, Albus.  Mobilicorpus." Draco's body rose into the air though his body was flat as if pressed against an invisible
stretcher.

Soon the carnage was cleared. Ron was alone, watching Harry walk away behind a potentially dead Malfoy. No one interrupted his musings as he wondered why couldn't he restrain his urges. He didn't mean to…harm Malfoy.

None of the students could give a clear answer as to what happened so the Headmaster convinced them to continue their potion making. Ron stayed outside.  

Snape returned rather too soon for Ron's liking. He was curled against the wall. He would never speak again. Look at the trouble that arose from his speaking, thinking things he shouldn't. Dumbledore came out once Snape took control over his class.

"Follow me."

Ron reluctantly got up. He didn't want to be expelled. His father would be disappointed and he would be stuck at home. All day without his security. He would go absolutely mad.

He trudged after Dumbledore, not noticing the surroundings and not caring. They were in front of Dumbledore's stairwell that led to his quarters. Suddenly they were in the immense room.

"Mr. Weasley, I was coming down to meet you to tell you that after many letters from your concerned sister, your brother, Percy, has come to visit you."

And there he was. Staunch and just as uptight. He was sitting in a chair seated in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"Take a seat."

Ron sat down.

"Mr. Weasley, we here at Hogwarts have noticed your sudden change. The grief that has consumed you has shattered you. And that display earlier has cemented my plans."

"Excuse me, sir. What happened?" Percy questioned.

"Ronald here has just gotten into a serious and violent fight with Mr. Malfoy resulting in Malfoy's subsequent loss of consciousness by strangulation."

"Ron!" Percy gasped.

"We know that under any other circumstances, Mr. Malfoy and Ron would have some scrapes and would be sentenced to midnight detention but due to the severity of the row, it may be best to separate Ron from his classmates. He'll be put under temporary watch. How does that sound, Ronald? You'll have your own room, furnished completely and comfortably."

Ron was too lost in his worry to even acknowledge what the Headmaster was saying.

"I think that's best."

"I think so too, Percy. I must go to the Infirmary and check in on Mr. Malfoy. Come along. You can help Ron pack some of his things."

They all left the warm office to rejoin the harsh reality of what had happened. Even though no less than thirty minutes had passed, it seemed as if every student he passed by now knew his dirty secret, his animal-like behavior.

Harry had emerged from the Infirmary just as Dumbledore entered. Hermione was by the injured boy's side.

Ron didn't dare look into the Infirmary for he knew that the even paler Malfoy would be lying there dead or unconscious.

"Hullo, Ron." Greeted Hermione.

Ron sadly looked into her deep chocolate eyes. All she saw was regret.

"It's okay. Everything will be fine."

"I don't think so Hermione. I'm taking him to the Owlery to write Father a note about what happened."

Ron's body tensed at the thought. He turned to his friends. He tried. He tried so hard to speak. Ron slowly shook his head; his lips were wrapped around the words. However, all that came out were speechless pattern of moans and sighs.

"What? What's wrong?" asked Harry, clutching his arm.

"He doesn't want to disappoint our father. He's dealing with so much." Percy put his arm around Ron's shoulders. "But you
must face what will come to you."

Ron mouthed the word `no' over and over.

"But you must tell him." Hermione reasoned. "We'll be here when you come back."

It didn't matter. Once he came back, the last little piece of Ron would be banished forever.

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