Chapter Nine
Once asleep, the attacks on Harry’s mind commenced.
They were in the dark forest, and a hooded Voldemort stood in front of him and Ron. Harry was holding Ron in front of him like a shield, saying “Take him! He wants it! He wants to be me!” Harry turned and ran out for the woods, leaving Ron there to suffer in his stead. Then, he found himself stuck in a small, clear glass box in a high-ceilinged room. Where he couldn’t get to them, the Weasley’s, Hermione, Tonks, and Lupin, among others Harry had come to love, were standing in a row. Bellatrix Lestrange, the Death Eater that killed Sirius, was performing the Crucio curse on each in turn. Their faces contorted in their misery; their bones bent and cracked at all angles. All Harry could do was watch; watch as they slowly and painfully died . . .
Harry violently awoke and heard himself screaming. The images were slow to fade, and he watched as the mangled face of Ron transformed into a healthy, safe Ron. Harry was mortified.
“Harry? Harry! You all right?”
He panted until his breath stabilized somewhat. “Huh?” he said as a searing pain shot across his forehead. “Ouch! My head hurts . . .” He pressed his hand against his forehead.
“Your scar?”
“No. Well, yes, but not just that. Firewhiskey doesn’t feel so good the next day.” He would have laughed if it didn’t hurt. The light coming in the window didn’t help either.
“Yeah, I don’t feel too great myself,” he sighed. “Have you been - er - having nightmares, too?” he asked tentatively.
“Do I ever not have nightmares?” he said moodily.
“Do you- um- remember last night?”
Harry realized where Ron’s discomfort was coming from. If he lied, Ron might still feel bottled up. He decided the truth would be uncomfortable, but more manageable. “Yeah . . . do you?”
He was pleasantly surprised to see Ron relieved. “Look, I know it’s hard being you. I don’t think it’s loads of fun or anything. I just . . . feel like people think I’m moronic next to you.”
“Who cares what other people think? We’re two different people who are good at different things. You’re my friend. That’s all that matters.” Ron looked down, unconvinced. Harry continued. “The brains are wrong. Come on, we know each other better than the Evils of Human Intelligence, right? They’re evil, remember?” and it took a little effort to smile.
Ron laughed a little. “You know, Harry, I’m glad I was there that night. Whatever help I may have given . . . it’s all a blur, but I’m sure I helped you out somewhere in there.”
“You helped. I’m glad too. Thanks.” Harry and Ron both became a little uncomfortable.
Ron said, “Listen to the schoolgirls talking,” They laughed. “Can we go downstairs now?”
“Only if your mum can fix me,” Harry replied.
They took off the charm that sealed off the noise the entire night, and went downstairs, not realizing they were still in the same clothes as the day before. If they thought the women of the household wouldn’t notice, they were woefully mistaken.
Mrs. Weasley looked at her youngest son with great suspicion. She didn’t want to accuse anyone of anything based upon the fact that they hadn’t changed clothes, and had gotten a ‘gift’ from Fred and George the night before. “Well, sit down boys, have some food. Harry, did you sleep well?”
“Er, no, not really,” he said, and looked at her blearily from half-closed eyes.
“You look sick! Wait here for a minute.”
“Where’s she going?” Harry asked Ron, but he only shrugged. Then a look of comprehension dawned on his face.
“Harry! She’ll see - “
Before Ron could finish, a grating, screeching voice forced itself down between the floorboards. “FIREWHISKEY!” There were stomps in quick succession, one slammed door, and one of Sirius’ mother’s tirades before Molly was in the kitchen, with a look that made Harry think he’d rather take the basilisk. “Ron Weasley, how dare you turn this house into a bar! Did I raise you to become an alcoholic?” she screamed, towering over Ron at the table. The two cringed in pain.
“And you!” With that, Harry got his first glimpse of Molly Weasley’s anger directed at him. “I thought you knew better! Everyone knows you have a penchant for rule-breaking, but in my own home? Have you two got nothing better to do than get drunk? What good did it do you? Hmm?”
Molly was on a roll, and wasn’t going to stop any time soon. Unfortunately, no one could think of anything to say that would placate her. She was right- except for it doing no good, that is. They could barely think at all, however, with their hangovers.
“Mum. Mum? Mum!” yelled Ginny over her mother.
“What?” she snapped.
“I have to talk to you about - “ she looked over at the boys, “erm - girl things.”
“What?” she asked delightedly, even though she heard her perfectly well. “What’s going on?”
“Can we talk in my room?” Ginny asked.
“Of course, Ginny, dear. You two,” she snapped at the boys. “I’ll deal with you later.”
As they turned to go to Ginny’s bedroom, for added effect, Ginny slipped her hand into her mum’s. She then mouthed, “You owe me,” over her shoulder.
All Harry and Ron could do was stare back at her in awe. “She takes after Fred and George, that one. Only she’ll be worse, because she’s a girl!” said Ron.
“Yeah, it seems a bit unfair. She’s got an edge on you lot.”
If Harry felt like a prisoner before, he surely was one now - and that was made absolutely clear by Mrs. Weasley. Grimmauld Place turned into a high security penitentiary. In other words, he and Ron were grounded - something Harry had no idea transferred over to the wizarding world. They were stuck doing any and every chore Mrs. Weasley could think of. As never before, Harry truly felt like her son. And he didn’t like it.
Because they couldn’t ride their brooms, they spent most of their free time playing Wizard Chess in their room. They also began to practice Apparating and Disapparating, as they were now allowed to test. The days only seemed to grow longer, until a bit over a week before the start of term, a very excited letter arrived from Hermione.
Dear Ron and Harry,
I am coming for a visit! I will, of course, simply stay and go to King’s Cross with you.
I have news for you, and you both had better be prepared to discuss your summers with me.
See you soon.
Love from,
Hermione
Harry couldn’t help but notice that while he was reading this letter aloud, Ron was busy reading another. Hermione sent one just to Ron? He thought he now knew what instigated Ron’s change. He decided just to approach the subject directly, and save them both a lot of dancing around. “What’s it say?” asked Harry inquisitively.
“Huh? Oh, a letter from Hermione.”
“I know. I asked what it said.” Harry was smirking now.
Ron blushed. “Oh, it just says hello and all that.”
A grin spread across Harry’s face. “Why’d she write you a separate letter?”
“Hm? Oh, nothing.”
“One might think you two have a thing going. But surely, you haven’t told her you fancy her?”
Unable to resist, Ron spilled it all out. “Yes, we have a ‘thing’ going, but it was all her, you know? She came to see me this summer - well, you knew that - but, it was as if she was using my injuries as an excuse to see me. That’s what it really was. Then . . .” he paused for dramatic effect, with a cocky glow on his face, “she couldn’t very well keep her hands off of me. Kept telling me how good I looked, and all.”
“You sure she wasn’t just talking about you looking like you feel better?”
“Nope, she wasn’t.”
Harry snorted. “Doesn’t sound like Hermione to me.”
Ron glowered. “Well that’s how it was! We’ve kissed loads of times! You don’t think I-“
“I don’t think Hermione would appreciate your talking about her that way,” said Ginny in her maternal tone as she walked into their room. Privacy was nonexistant, of course.
“Maybe she’d smack you like she did Draco!” Harry laughed.
“She wouldn’t. I’m too attractive.”
Everyone, including Ron, chortled at that line. “Ginny,” asked Harry curiously, “What did you need to talk about to your mum that day?”
“A girl never tells. Just be thankful I pulled her away. All I have to do is mention a boy, and Mum goes all mushy. Makes me glad I’m the only girl of the family.”
She looked at them in turn, and smiled sweetly. "You both owe me so big."