“Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all” ~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Ron didn’t think he could take any more visitors, especially if they were going to be in the same vein as his mother. Mrs Weasley had entered, face white as a sheet, but as soon as she discovered that her youngest son was alive and well, her face had proceeded to turn a bright red with extraordinary speed, as she raged mercilessly at him.
“What did you think you were doing?! Did you mean to give your father and I heart attacks?! Terrifying your sister like that, when she’s had all the stress she can take already?! Do you realise how irresponsible and childish you’ve been?!” and she had carried on like that for much of the visiting session, never allowing Ron to answer with more than the first syllable of his reply. After she left, Ron remained sitting back against his pillows dejectedly, doing nothing more than staring out of the tiny window opposite at Muggle London. He had been unconscious in the hospital for several days, but even now he was awake, he could not summon the energy to do anything. Even the sound of the door creaking open, despite it being well past visiting hours, did not make him look round. He barely even blinked until he heard someone speak.
“Ron?” It was a female voice, and one he knew very well. Finally he moved, and saw, to his great surprise, a worried-looking Ginny, accompanied by her unusually sombre husband.
“Hi Ginny, Harry,” he replied hoarsely. His vocal chords felt like they hadn’t been used in years.
“How are you doing, mate?” Harry asked, edging closer to the bed.
“Fine; I can go home the day after tomorrow,” Ron replied, unenthusiastically.
“Why did you do it, Ron?” Ginny asked suddenly, her eyes a little too bright in the dim glow of the candles. “Why?” Ron was silent for a moment, watching his sister’s anxious face carefully.
“I’m sorry, Ginny,” he said finally, in little more than a whisper. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“Yes, you bloody well did scare me!” Ginny shouted suddenly. “We thought you were going to die! Do you realise that everyone’s been blaming themselves?! They all think it’s their fault you nearly died when you have so much to live for “ what?” she added indignantly, for Ron had made a dismissive noise at this last bit.
“What have I got to live for, Ginny? You wouldn’t speak to me, Harry wouldn’t speak to me, the family wouldn’t even see me, and I’ll never see Hermione again. Tell me, Ginny, which part of that is worth staying alive for?”
“You idiot,” Harry told him angrily. “Did you honestly think that we weren’t going to speak to you ever again? Do you know why we came to your flat last night? We came to apologise for treating you unfairly! Instead we find you lying on the floor practically at death’s door! Ron, haven’t you seen enough death and destruction in your life at the hands of other people to realise how much life is worth? Why would you want to die a coward when we’ve seen so many die as heroes?”
“You don’t have to apologise,” Ron muttered. “It wasn’t your fault; it was all mine, and I could have gotten you and your baby killed. I’m sorry.” And he had never been more sincere in his life. At this, Ginny gave a sob and threw herself on her brother. Ron winced slightly at the sudden impact, but then he realised there was something soft and warm pressing against his stomach. It was Ginny’s baby bump. Lifting Ginny off him gently, he put his hand out to touch it. Ginny smiled and put her hand over her brother’s.
“Don’t do anything like this ever again, Ron,” she told him firmly, but still smiling.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t miss seeing this little one for the world,” Ron replied, happy to see her smiling again. Harry clapped him on the shoulder genially, then he and Ginny left, Harry’s arm casually thrown around Ginny’s shoulders.
Ron sat back, smiling in spite of himself. He couldn’t do anything now to get Hermione back, but the tiny baby growing inside his sister was a pinprick of light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. Finally Harry would have a family of his own, and Ron was determined to be around to see it.
*
He was still lost in thought several hours later. He was thinking about the times the three of them had spent together at school: him, Harry and Hermione. Everything was different now: he could not contemplate a life without the three of them together. Ron sighed “ maybe he’d just have to finally grow up, and learn that there were some things that even money and fame could not buy.
A noise from the doorway made him glance round surprised: the sun had set on the horizon long ago, so who would be visiting him now?
It was Hermione. Her face was white, though her eyes were red, but she gave him a tired smile.
“Hi, Ron.”
“Hermione,” Ron replied, stunned. “What are you doing here? Does Alex know you’re here?”
“Calm down, Ron. Alex knows I’m here, I told him I was going to come. And why do you think I’m here?” When Ron remained silent she carried on, perching herself on the end of his bed as she did so. “I didn’t realise I meant that much to you.”
“Mm.” Ron fidgeted with his bedcovers, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” she said quietly. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault, it’s just… life.”
“It’s Alex’s fault!” Ron said angrily, but Hermione shook her head. “Oh, don’t go defending him again,” Ron cried accusingly. “What, then, Hermione? What is it that makes him so special? Why isn’t it his fault?”
“Ron, it isn’t his fault.” She settled herself more comfortably on the bed. “He can’t help it. Do you know where I met him?”
“No,” Ron muttered. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear this; blaming Alex had been the only thing stopping him from blaming himself.
“I did some voluntary work a few years back, at St Mungo’s, to try and ease back into the wizarding world again and to connect with people again. Alex was there at the hospital, because he had psychological issues, Ron. He tried to kill himself, just like you, and he nearly succeeded… just like you. Anyway, he had no one in his life; he had nothing to live for. I talked to him. That was all, nothing more, I was just his friend. And once he had a friend, he became a different person. He was given the all clear and released a few weeks later, and we stayed friends. He stayed with me for a while, when he was looking for somewhere to live, and we sort of, well, we started again together. I could talk to him about what happened to mum and dad, you see, because he wasn’t involved. Then it spiralled from there. But what I’m trying to say, Ron, is that you are a threat to him in a bigger way than you realise.”
“Because you’re the only person who loves and believes in him?” Ron asked quietly.
“Exactly, Ron. Alex is frightened that he’ll be alone forever, if I leave him for you. He doesn’t know how to deal with his fear, and that’s why he lashes out. I’m the only person that he has in his world.”
“How did he get his ‘psychological issues’?” Ron asked, intrigued.
“His mother left when he was young, and his father died several years later. He would have been the year above us at school, but he stayed to take care of his father. Dumbledore offered to sort out care for him until he finished school, but Alex was scared and didn’t trust anyone. When his father died he lost the flat they’d been living in, and ended up roaming the streets. So he’s been alone for years now, and one winter, when he got very ill with pneumonia, he was taken to St Mungo’s by some Healers who happened to pass him. While he was there, they diagnosed his psychological problems, and kept him in a ward there. He was there for a whole year before I met him, still lonely and afraid. He has a deep-rooted fear of being abandoned; in his eyes, both of his parents left him alone in the world, and those years he spent alone on the streets were the worst of his life. When I met him, I was lonely too, and we just sort of connected, it felt like there was a link between us. He needs me, and I hadn’t realised until now how much, and I can’t leave him alone in the world, when everyone else in his life has.”
Ron sat in silence for a few minutes, contemplating this fresh information. At least now he could partially understand why Alex behaved as he did, although it made him sad to think that Hermione’s compassion and desire to help those less fortunate had got her into this mess.
“Stay with Alex, Hermione,” Ron said finally, staring her directly in the eye. “It’s what’s best for everyone, well, except maybe you,” he added wistfully.
“And you,” Hermione said quietly. Ron shrugged as casually as he could.
“I’ll live,” he told her firmly, and they both knew he meant the words literally. “What about you?”
“It’s my decision, and I’m going to make the right one, not the easy one. That’s what Dumbledore said we should always do. But I do want you to know, Ron,” she added hurriedly, “that I’ll always love you. You’re the one for me, and we’ll always be together in here,” she said, gently touching her heart. Ron nodded; he couldn’t trust himself to speak. Hermione leaned forwards and kissed him on the cheek.
“Goodbye, Hermione,” Ron said, and, as she smiled at him for a final time and slipped out of the room, he felt a tiny twinge of happiness that she was not walking away from him this time, but that he was letting her go.
*
Ron couldn’t believe it. Someone else was trying to get into his room, even though it was nearly midnight! He’d never felt so popular, he thought wryly. This particular person, however, seemed to have decided to enter through the window, rather than opting for the door, probably for some reason best known to themselves.
As whoever it was jumped into the room, Ron felt a pang of fear “ they were dressed all in black including a black balaclava! Just as he was searching desperately around him for some sort of weapon with which to defend himself however, the balaclava was removed, to reveal a tumble of stringy blonde hair and protuberant silvery eyes.
“Luna! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Colin and I only got back an hour ago, so I’ve only just heard what happened. How are you?” she asked, sitting herself cross-legged on the end of his bed.
“Er, fine thanks,” Ron replied, slightly nonplussed.
“Good, because it was rather a silly thing to do, you know,” Luna told him matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, so I’ve been told,” Ron grumbled.
“I mean, how on earth are you going to get Hermione back if you’re dead? She’d be here and you’d be there.”
“I’m not going to get Hermione back, Luna, whether we’re here or there,” Ron snapped.
“But you love her,” Luna protested plaintively.
“Yes, I know that thank you, but she’s got to do the right thing,” Ron replied through gritted teeth.
“Which is marrying you.”
“No it isn’t.”
“But it is.”
“Who said anything about marriage anyway?” Ron exploded angrily. “Look here, Luna, me and Hermione have talked about this. We’ve agreed, and I’ve let her go because I love her. So there’s no point in false hope.” Luna did not reply; she just looked at him interestedly. After a few seconds, she said simply, “No hope is false.”
Ron stared at her but said nothing. It was tiring to have his hopes raised and then dashed time and time again, but he could not ignore or try to block out Luna’s words, now that they were there, hanging in the silence between them.
“I brought you this,” Luna said finally, when it was obvious that Ron was not going to reply anytime soon. She pulled from her pocket a lurid pink, shiny ball, about the same size as a tennis ball.
“Thanks, er, what is it?” Ron asked, accepting the ball with some trepidation.
“It’s a Fibilius Fig,” Luna explained happily. “You eat it, and it makes you feel better.”
“Wouldn’t a bunch of grapes have been better?” Ron asked, eyeing the Fig suspiciously.
“Oh, no!” Luna said frantically, shaking her head and looking horrified at the very idea. “Grapes have often been infected with the juice of the Lachrimus Bug, which makes you feel worse. This is much better! I’ve got to go now, I told Colin I was only popping out for some food for Tiberius.”
“Who?”
“Colin, my husband, don’t you remember-”
“No, not Colin, Tiberius!” Ron said loudly, beginning to wish that he hadn’t asked.
“Tiberius “ oh, you don’t know yet! We found a Crumple-Horned Snorkack when we were on honeymoon, so we brought him back and named him Tiberius. See you soon, Ronald.” And with that, she bounded to her feet, waved at him, slipped her balaclava back over her head and clambered out of the window, before he had a chance to reply.
“Thanks, Luna!” he yelled as she disappeared. Alone again, he looked at the pink ball still clutched in his hand. Hoping that he wouldn’t get any more late night visitors, Ron turned onto his side to try and get to sleep. The last thought in his head was an echo of Luna’s mystical, ethereal voice:
“No hope is false.”
Strictly Ballroom by goldenprincess
Chapter Notes: A pensive Ron receives several visitors, each with something different to say to him, each giving him a reason to live.