Yesterday's Tomorrow

Chapter One

Life at the Burrow had never been quite like this. There were currently more people than in recent memory, but things had never been more solemn or more quiet. Well, maybe quiet wasn't the best word to use. In fact, there was probably only one person in the household that could be described as solemn.

The Dark Lord had been defeated only three and a half months ago, much to Molly Weasley's delight. It was the circumstances of that which had made her youngest son unreachable and unapproachable. While the Wizarding World delighted in overcoming the Dark Lord, Ron cried. Ron had lost his very best friend to You-Know-Who and had since never been quite the same.

Molly checked the stew that was bubbling on the stove; there were now ten people living in the Burrow. Percy still lived at his flat in London, but Fred had married Angelina Johnson during the war and they were both living in the Burrow until they could find a house of their own. Hermione Granger had moved in after the loss of her parents. Surprisingly enough, they had been spared in the butchery of the war, but sadly had died only the month prior in a car crash.

Molly had secretly hoped that by Hermione moving in, Ron would come out of his stupor. However, nothing had happened and was becoming more depressed than Molly had ever seen her, though right now Hermione was in the living room laughing with Ginny, who she was sharing a room with.

Molly pulled bread from the oven and placed it on the table with a fresh stick of butter. She wiped her hands on her apron and smiled. Even if she was worried, that didn't mean that she couldn't put on a bright face.

"Hermione," Molly said, once she had entered. "Would you mind helping me finish setting the table? Dinner is almost finished."

"Of course not, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said politely, even though Molly had told her multiple times that there was no reason for such formality if she was living in their home. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears and went into the kitchen.

"Ginny," Molly said to her daughter, "will you get your brothers?"

Ginny gave a shrug and stood up. She ran up the stairs and Molly listened as her only daughter began screaming for her brothers to come downstairs. She shook her head, some things never changed.

Hermione was setting the table as she reentered the kitchen. "Are Percy and Penelope still coming over?"

"Yes." Molly washed her hands in the sink and put a ladle into the cauldron that the soup was simmering in. She turned back again, and counted the places. She frowned. "You only set eleven places.."

"Is Alicia coming to dinner as well?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"No," George said, as he entered the dining room. Fred and Angelina were on his heels. Then came everyone else and finally Ginny. Everyone but Ron.

"Ginny, I told you to get your brothers," Molly said, taking her place at the head of the table. "Where is Ron?"

Ginny shrugged. "He wouldn't come down. Didn't even answer." Molly clucked her tongue as Ginny slid into her seat.

"I'll go and get him." She turned to see Fred getting ready to sneak into the soup, she smacked his hand. "Not until your brother and father arrive."

She took the steps up to her youngest son's bedroom. She knew that it would be like pulling teeth to get him to come down, but she was worried. He had stayed up like this for about a week, and it was time that he show his face. When she reached the final landing, she knocked on his door.

"Ron," she said softly, knocking on the door. There was no answer and she knocked again. Sighing, she turned the doorknob, it was locked. Muttering a soft Alohomora, she entered the bedroom. It was messy. Bright orange posters of the Chudley Cannons that normally hung from the walls were now falling on the floor. There were books scattered everywherel; Molly was careful where she stepped.

Ron was laying on the bed, one arm draped across his chest, the other hanging from his bed. Every so often, he would twitch or mumble something. Molly knew Ron had nightmares. She had wondered upstairs one afternoon to hear Ron screaming. Scared, Molly had tried to enter the bedroom, but it had been locked and she hadn't had her wand with her.

She sat on the edge of Ron's bed and lightly touched his chest, obviously scaring Ron, because he sat straight up with his wand in his hand.

Looking around wildly, his face softened when he saw his mother. "Oh, it's just you Mum." He gave her a small smile. However, Molly was shocked. She knew that Ron had seen quite a few things with Harry, though she had no idea why he would be sleeping with his wand or why that would be his gut reaction.

"Percy and Penelope have come over for dinner, honey. I would really like for you to come down." Molly patted his hand and stood up. "And could you clean your room, maybe?"

She heard Ron groan, but then there was the sound of him kicking his feet over the side of his bed. "Of course, Mum." She turned to see Ron running his hands through his hair, looking as horrible as ever. He had easily lost two stone since the end of the war and even through his shirt, she could see his bones sticking out. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

Wordlessly, she nodded and shut the door behind her. Maybe she would try to see if Hermione could help Ron.

~*~

Hermione listened as Penelope talked about working for the Ministry. Truthfully, she couldn't wait for this to be over, so she could go to bed. She loved the Weasleys for taking her in, but she had honestly only moved to be closer to Ron. Ron, however, was the one person she hadn't seen hardly any of since she had moved in.

She pulled her napkin onto her lap and kept nodding at the appropriate points in the very one sided conversation she was having with Penelope. Finally, Molly entered smiling and took a seat to the left of Hermione. She felt Molly's hand pat her arm. Ron is on his way down."

Hermione smiled, maybe she could get him to talk to her before he went back to his room to hide. She was so lonely and just wanted him to talk to her the way they used to during the War. He would listen to her worries and how scared she was for family, for them, and for herself. But since... since Harry, Ron had been so distant, especially from her.

Ron entered the room and she pushed her hair from her face. He looked horrible, she noted, his eyes were sunken in and his cheek bones were sticking out, his blue eyes were dull and lifeless, though he did make an attempt to smile at her as he slid in the seat across from her. He nodded to everyone, but when he made eye contact with her, his smile became a little more real.

"It's nice to see you," she said, painfully aware of Molly's presence to her left. Ron nodded and let his mother take his bowl and fill it with stew. "Your mum's made your favourite stew."

"Smells like it," Ron said, his voice raspy and sounding as if he hadn't spoken for a while.

"Are you hungry?" Percy asked, butting in the conversation. Percy had been sitting to Penelope's right.

"A little," Ron said, she watched him move uncomfortably. She smiled as he turned his neck to the side, attempting to crack it. If anything, that little movement told her everything she needed to know about how he was feeling. "What?" Ron asked, looking at her.

"You," she said as a bowl of stew appeared in front of her. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley."

"You're welcome dear," she said, sitting down. "Arthur should be here any moment, so as soon as he arrives....George don't you dare put that in Percy's bowl. Honestly you are 20 not 2," She paused and then said, "We can eat."

It never ceased to amaze Hermione how on-the-ball Mrs. Weasley could be still when it came to the twins. Hermione turned to look at George, who was now scowling, though not nearly as much as she imagined Percy was.

Mr. Weasley arrived with a pop right next to where his wife was sitting. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek and then took his seat at the other end of the table.

"Molly, you've outdone yourself again," he said, smiling and picking up his spoon. "Percy, Penelope, Ron, it's good to see you."

"And it's great to see you too Dad," Fred said, somewhat sarcastically.

"I guess since we always come to dinner we have ceased to be special to Mum and Dad," George replied grinning.

"I think they're waiting for the two of you to quit showing up," Charlie said, joining in the teasing.

"Notice that Charlie didn't say anything about me showing up," Angelina said, spooning the stew into her mouth. "This is fabulous Mrs. Weasley."

"That's because Mum and Dad actually think that you'll be a good influence on me," Fred said; Hermione could see him grinning wickedly across the table. "How little do they know you."

"Oh right, like we really believe that Angelina can be any worse than you and George," Bill said. "Though...I do have some news myself. If...I hope this is all right for the dinner table."

Hermione put down her spoon and turned her attention to Bill, well as well as she could. He was sitting on the same side of the table as she was next to Mr. Weasley.

"I have finally found a flat in London, that isn't in a Muggle area," Bill said. Most of the magical flats in London, had been destroyed during the war due to the fact that people had started renting them out to the families of Muggle-borns to help and try protect them. They were in the process of being rebuilt, much like everything in the Wizarding World.

"Congratulations!" Mrs. Weasley said, Mr. Weasley was beaming with pride. "Bill that is fantastic."

"Well that's not all," Bill said. "I'm going to ask Fleur to marry me." At once everyone began congratulating Bill at once, Hermione felt herself smile. Fleur, despite earlier impressions, was perfect for Bill and quite nice. Hermione turned to look back at Ron, but he wasn't sitting anymore. She turned to see him sneaking up the stairs, she excused herself to Mrs. Weasley and followed Ron up the stairs. It was now or never.

~*~

Ron no longer had the energy for his family. Yes, he loved them dearly, but... He closed his eyes. He honestly didn't have the energy for anything, Hermione's parents funeral had nearly killed him. He despised to see her so upset, he had wanted nothing more to comfort her, but he hadn't been sure how.

Since the end of the war, everything was so confusing. Nothing was the same. In fact, everything during the war had seemed so simple. Voldemort had to be defeated, their lives revolved around that and nothing else. Now, he wasn't sure what it was he was supposed to be doing. He didn't know what to say to anyone and didn't know how to act. Everything seemed so surreal now, how could he go from being hunted by a fascist bent on world domination to simple family meals?

There was also the guilt of losing Harry. He knew that he shouldn't have let Harry go alone; he hadn't wanted to, but Hermione had pulled him back. She had screamed his name and in the split second it took for him to turn back around, Harry was gone. He hadn't seen him since. If he was honest though, as mental as it sounded, somehow he knew that Harry wasn't really gone. His dreams, or nightmares, were filled with images of Harry screaming for help. They were far too real to let Ron even think about Harry really being gone. If he told anyone, they would just think he was mental and would ship him of the St. Mungo's with the rest of the loonies.

He ran his fingers through his hair once he reached the final flight of stairs. He was tired and hoped that he could sleep without...without Harry being there. Though at this point, he was too tired to care. In fact he was too tired to care about anything. He opened his bedroom door, he had told his mum that he would clean it, and he would eventually. About to shut the door, he heard someone say his name. He turned and saw Hermione on the top stair.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly, giving him a shy smile.

He licked his cracked lips in an effort to help moisten them. "Of course." He opened the door and let her in. "I'm sorry about the mess...I haven't..." Hermione silenced him by touching his arm.

"You don't have to explain to me." They were quiet and Ron was uncomfortable, he looked down at the floor, the ceiling, everywhere but right at her. "You look horrible."

"Thank you Hermione," Ron said, sounding more annoyed that he really was. She jumped.

"I'm sorry.... I just..."

"I know what you meant. I shouldn't have snapped at you." They were quiet again, Ron began shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other.

"I...I...it was nice to talk to you." Hermione smiled and turned on her heel to leave the room. He sighed and closed his eyes, too tired to think. He shut the door and said a locking charm and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.