Always the Sidekick

As months went on, Quidditch got worse. Ron wondered why they hadn't kicked him off the team yet. Gryffindor went from being the best team in the school to the worst. They'd won against Slytherin, but as horribly as the practices were going, they'd need a miracle to win against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. He dreaded practices.

As Christmas approached, he was at least looking forward to the break he'd get from schoolwork, prefect duties and Quidditch practice. He also had DA meetings to attend, which he really enjoyed. He could tell Harry did as well. And anything to take Harry's mind off You-Know-Who was good.

Ron returned from the last DA meeting of the term with Hermione.

"So, what are your plans for Christmas?" he asked Hermione, taking a seat on the hearthrug in front of the fire.

"My parents are taking me skiing in the Swiss Alps." She pulled Crookshanks into her lap.

"Skiing?" Ron put his hand out to pet Crookshanks as well, but he turned and strode away.

"It's a sort of sport. You put these long plastic or wooden things on your feet. They're called skis. Then you slide down a mountain with them. It's quite enjoyable once you get the hang of it."

Ron laughed. "You slide down a snowy hill with a board on your feet? Sounds like a nutter sport to me."

Hermione pulled out a scroll and quill after giving Ron an annoyed look and began to write.

Sighing, he took out the Transfiguration homework he'd left on the table and began to study. After a while, needing a break, Ron lifted his head to look at what Hermione was writing when the common room door opened and Harry walked in.

About time, Ron thought. "What kept you?" he asked.

Harry was quiet. Ron wondered if there was something wrong with him. Had something happened on his way back from DA? Did he get caught? Hermione seemed to think along the same lines and asked Harry what happened.

Harry told them about Cho, the girl Harry fancied.

"Did you kiss?" Hermione asked.

Ron shot a look at her. Of course they didn't kiss. Harry wouldn't kiss anyone. And why did she care anyway? When Harry nodded his head in the affirmative, Ron couldn't help but shout. It was something he knew he'd get in full detail later. Exactly how it felt. How he felt. If he was going out with her now. All the important details.

Hermione seemed to be taking an unnatural interest in his experience too. It bothered Ron. It was his job as best friend to ask the questions.

Tiring of the subject of women, Ron cocked his head sideways and looked at what Hermione was writing. It was a letter. Quite long for a letter, he thought.

"Who're you writing the novel to anyway?"

"Viktor." Hermione put her arm across the scroll blocking her writing.

"Krum?" Ron was startled at his disgruntled tone.

"How many other Viktors do we know?" Hermione sighed and began writing again.

Ron looked at Harry who shrugged. He didn't understand women any more then Ron did. He returned to his Transfiguration homework, trying desperately to keep his mind on Transfiguration, but straying often to imagine terrible things happening to Krum. Then an even more disturbing image came to his mind. Had Krum kissed Hermione? Was he the only one of his two best friends to not be kissed yet? Who the hell cared what incantation you had to use to turn a pig into a couch when there were more important things?

"Goodnight," she said. She rolled up her scroll. Ron still tried to make out a word on the scroll. Did he see the word "love"? She put it under her arm and walked up the girls' stairway.

Not saying anything, Harry gave him a look. A look telling Ron he knew something that Ron didn't know yet. What it was, he couldn't figure out. Why couldn't people just wear a sign that told other people what they were feeling or thinking? Then he wouldn't be so confused with their actions all the time.

"What does she see in Krum?" He startled himself by saying it aloud. He'd been thinking it all night.

"Well, I suppose he's older, isn't he? And he's an international Quidditch player."

Ron sighed. Oh yeah, that. "Yeah, but apart from that. I mean he's a grouchy git, isn't he?" Ron was the one who at the moment sounded grouchy. He hadn't heard what Harry said after that. They entered their dorm room where it was quiet.

Harry didn't say anything and climbed into his bed. Ron lay awake looking out the window. Snow was starting to fall.

Why did it bother him so much? Ron wondered. Could he fancy his best friend? She was insufferable most of the time. She nagged him incessantly. But then there were the times she made him laugh. She could be funny if she tried. He smiled at the thought of her laugh.

Ron tried to remember when he first started feeling this. There was the Yule Ball. He remembered that very clearly. It was a horrible night. He sat next to Padma Patil, who was a pretty girl, he would admit that. But he didn't even want to be there. All he thought about was the Chudly Cannons magazine in his room. There was supposed to have been a really good article on a new move that Ron had seen at the World Cup. He wanted to learn how to do it. It hadn't slipped his mind that there would be an opening for a new Keeper, but he would never tell anyone he thought about it.

He sat there that night with his face in his hands and stared at Harry. At least Ron didn't have to be at a table where everyone was looking at him. Stupid dress robes. It was then he noticed Krum come in and of course he had a beautiful girl on his arm. But there was something about this girl. He couldn't see it at first. She was very pretty. Then he was amazed when he recognized her. "Hermione," he gasped. Padma looked at him disgustedly. Apparently it wasn't nice to talk about another girl on a date. He didn't take his eyes off her the rest of the night. He wouldn't forget that. He'd never seen her look so pretty.

But it seemed like even before that he felt something special for Hermione. He remembered seeing her in the hospital wing second year when she'd been petrified. He snuck in alone one night. Not even Harry knew. He sat by her bedside and held her hand and read her chapters from their Charms book. He figured he would have done the same thing for Harry, but when Harry had been in the hospital wing several times after that he'd never once snuck in at midnight to see him. How come Ron hadn't seen that before? Maybe that's why he hadn't figured it out before now. It seemed like as long as Hermione had been his friend there had been something about her. Something that made her different to him then anyone else. And maybe he hadn't seen it because he thought it was normal. But now he thought about it, he didn't feel that way about any of his other friends, girl or otherwise.

Could it be possible he fancied Hermione? That was ridiculous. But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Well, he thought, that's lovely. You fancy someone who would never have any interest in you and who has a famous boyfriend. Yeah, good one Weasley.

Ron drifted into sleep. He was standing at the pond at the Burrow. He turned and he saw a beautiful blonde girl. He smiled at her and welcomed her to him. He embraced her, even kissed her. The girl looked at Ron and smiled. But now Ron realized her blonde hair was brown and her violet eyes now matched the brown hair. It was Hermione. She pressed her lips to Ron's. When she pulled back a moment later she spoke.

"Harry's screaming, Ron," she said, looking curiously at him.

That's peculiar. And now Ron could hear Harry screaming. Where was he? He had to help Harry.

Ron opened his eyes and realized it wasn't a dream. Harry was in fact having a very disturbed sleep. Ron climbed out of his bed and walked to Harry.

"Harry," Ron said, quietly at first so not to wake the others asleep in the room. It was too late, however; Neville's voice rang from the corner.

"Is he all right?"

"I don't know," Ron said. This time louder he called Harry's name. He still didn't wake up. "HARRY," he shouted. Certainly that would wake everyone else in the room, but it would wake Harry as well.

He now had Neville and Dean with him by Harry's bed. They too were shouting "Harry," as if it were a chant. When Harry's eyes finally opened, his hand immediately went to his forehead and he shut his eyes again. Ron didn't know what to do. Should he get someone? No, he felt certain he needed to stay by Harry.

Harry woke but didn't open his eyes. He leaned over the edge of his bed and vomited. When Harry's eyes finally opened again he spoke, breathlessly. "Your dad," he said it so quietly and breathlessly Ron wasn't sure he'd heard right. "Your dad's been attacked." He closed his eyes again, obviously struggling against the pain of keeping them open.

"What," Ron was confused. Did Harry even know where he was? Was he talking about his, Ron's, dad or someone else's?

"Your dad. He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood everywhere..." As Ron's stomach sank he noticed Harry turn green. Neville left to get someone and Dean had stepped away timidly. But Ron stayed where he was. Harry would do the same for him.

"Harry, mate, you were just dreaming," Ron stepped closer to Harry.

"No!" Harry shouted and Ron took his step back. He'd never seen Harry this way before. "It wasn't a dream...not an ordinary dream. I was there. I saw it. I did it..." he turned more green at those words. Then retched. Ron moved farther out of the way. He was really scared for Harry now. Where was Neville? They needed someone.

"Harry, you're not well." He heard more words come out of his own mouth, but didn't know what they were. He was hoping himself this was a dream. He would wake up and Harry would be sleeping soundlessly in the bed next to him.

Harry went on to try and explain to Ron about the dream, but Ron wasn't listening. He was panicking on the inside. This was his best mate. He had to help him. As if on cue, Neville arrived with Professor McGonagall.

He let her take over from there. He followed Professor McGonagall and Harry to Dumbledore's office and listened to the whole thing again. Now his mind was wandering. What if it was true? What if his father was seriously injured? It now seemed that Dumbledore felt this was a fact. His heart started pounding. But there was one thing that caught his mind. Harry had said he'd been inside the snake. What did that mean? Well, to be honest, Ron was more worried about his dad at that moment.

He was happier to see his brothers when they arrived in the office than he'd ever been before. Happy, in fact, that he had so many of them there, Fred, George and Ginny. He needed his family. Yes, Harry was almost like a brother, but only his actual siblings knew exactly what he was feeling. He clutched onto them tighter then he could ever remember, and together they took a Portkey to Grimmuald Place.

The four Weasley children sat in a circle together in silence. Occasionally, a sob would escape someone. Ron's head was spinning now. It seemed like ages ago that he was bickering with Hermione about Krum and now he sat with his family in a crisis, their hands all joined together.

What if his dad didn't make it? What would he do then? Maybe if Charlie and Bill helped to support the family they could manage. He could quit school and get a job. But then there was his mother. If she lost their dad, it would be the worst thing to happen to her. What must she be going through now he could only imagine. He smiled fleetingly at Ginny, who looked pale and on the verge of a breakdown.

The night seemed to last a hundred years. He could hear deep breathing from Ginny, who had moved to the couch, and was glad at least she was able to sleep. He seemed on the verge of consciousness but didn't dare cross the line to sleep. What if something happened? What if he fell asleep and missed it? But, he told himself, if you did fall asleep maybe you would wake up and find it all a nightmare. Yes, he'd wake up in his bed at Hogwarts. He wasn't really here. He closed his eyes and drifted.

He wasn't sure how long he was asleep, it seemed like only a few minutes when he heard a pop in the kitchen and a moment later the door opened. He'd never been happier to see his mother in his life. He wanted to run to her and just lay in her arms and have her whisper to him it would be all right, like she did when he was a small boy. He was halfway out of his seat when Molly spoke.

"He's going to be all right." And Ron had to fight with his last wit not to cry from relief.

When Ron woke later that afternoon from a dreamless sleep, he noticed his trunk. That was fast, he thought. He stumbled to it and started to get the needed items for his shower when he noticed a piece of parchment with his name on it. He opened it gingerly.

Ron,

I heard about your dad and I sincerely hope you're doing all right. I don't really understand what happened, McGonagall just said he'd been taken to St. Mungo's and that was all she knew. I'll try and see if I can visit before holiday is over. I'm really worried about you. Please know my thoughts are there, even if I'm not.

Love,
Hermione.

It was the closing that got him. Sure it was usual for her to write Love From, but she'd never just left it with Love. What did that mean? Oh Ron, he told himself, it meant nothing. She was just in a hurry.

He looked at Harry, who was also picking around in his trunk, and noticed he didn't have a note. At least not one that Ron could see. That was odd, he thought. But a moment later he was stalking down the long hallway to the loo.

Ron had been in St. Mungo's only once before in his memory and that was when the twins had tricked Charlie into putting a Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean up his nose. Even Molly's best spell couldn't get it out from where it had been lodged. He hoped he wouldn't have to find his way, because he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention now. Fred and George were literally charming the pants off one of the Healers, who couldn't figure out how her knickers had come off and hurried to a nearby broom cupboard. They were laughing so hard, and receiving such dirty looks from everyone they almost walked right into Harry and Ginny, who had stopped in front of a door. They were given a brief disapproving look from Molly for misbehaving and then she walked into the room.

Arthur looked worse for the wear. He was wrapped in bandages, which wouldn't have bothered Ron so much except the bandages were nearly soaked in blood. He knew that couldn't be normal. His concern faded though as soon as his father started talking. He seemed as normal as could be as if they were all sitting at the Burrow at breakfast. It was familiar enough that Ron and Ginny started their old game of see-who-can-poke-the-hardest.

"OUCH," Ron shouted, then quickly calmed himself down when the room looked at him. A minute later they were escorted out of the room and forced to stare at the closed door. Luckily Fred and George were clever enough to bring the extendable ears and they all listened quietly.

The adults were talking for only a minute when they heard Moody growl, "Obviously Potter doesn't know what it means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him we need to make sure he's kept a close eye on." Ron didn't hear what the response to that was; he barely heard the last part of the statement. Harry looked horrified and he could only imagine what his face must look like.

Nobody spoke the rest of the day. Even Fred and George who seemed in a particularly rambunctious mood were subdued. Harry hadn't said more then two words and then disappeared to his room before Ron could talk to him. Ron could understand how upsetting it would be to have You-Know-Who inside you, but he seriously doubted Harry did. And he wanted to tell him that, if he could ever get a moment too.

Ginny cornered him in the hallway between the third and fourth floors where Ron was searching for Harry.

"I'm really worried," she said. She fidgeted with the snap on her robes. "I think we need to talk to him, I need to talk to him, to tell him that he's not mad."

"I'm looking for him now." Ron started to leave but Ginny pulled him back to her.

"I think he's up in Buckbeak's room. But it doesn't matter; I don't think he'd talk to you. Listen, Mum sent an owl to Hermione and she's on her way, should be here any moment. If anyone can talk sense into him, it's her."

Ron found that odd. Why would Hermione have any more influence then he did? But the next thing he heard the bell was ringing and voices were sounding from downstairs.

He met Hermione on the second floor landing. She was covered in snow and smiled at him, but kept walking intent on her purpose.

"Meet you in your room with Harry," she said. And she was gone up the third floor stairs.

They had sorted things out with Harry and Ron was pleased to see his face light up when Sirius had bewitched a plate and saucer to do a waltz at dinner. When he sat in the hallway later that night, waiting for the only loo on the floor, he noticed how full the moon was and couldn't help but wonder what Lupin was doing that night. Ron really liked the moon; what would it be like to be frightened of it? He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice someone sit down next to him.

"You're in deep thought," Hermione said.

"What? Oh no," he responded. That was dumb, he thought.

"How long have you been waiting?" She nodded to the door.

"Not long. I think Harry's shaving, so it may be a few minutes. You can go upstairs if you need to."

Hermione smiled and said, "No. I'll wait. I haven't had a chance to really talk to you since I got here. How are you doing with all of this?"

Ron looked at her mesmerized. She was asking about him? After the spat they'd had the last time they were together? "I'm doing fine now. It was hard at first." He didn't want to tell her how scared he was or that he wanted to break down. But she seemed to catch on to it.

"You'll be all right," Hermione said, putting her head on his shoulder. She reached for his hand and for the first time in days he was glad this wasn't a dream.