Ron Weasley and the Green Flame Torch

"Get up!" cried Mrs. Weasley as she drew back the curtains on the window the next morning. Light flooded into the room, stinging Ron's eyes.

"Mum," he groaned, blocking the light with his hands. "Mum...close the curtain--"

"No," said Mrs. Weasley sharply. "It's time for you two to get up."

Ron yawned and stretched while Harry lazily got up and went to the loo.

"We're leaving for St. Mungo's in half an hour," Mrs. Weasley informed her son as he got up and pulled on a pair of jeans.

"Oh." Ron put on a shirt, but noticed that his mother was still in the room. "Uh--Mum--is there something wrong?"

"What?" Mrs. Weasley asked distantly.

"Uh--is there something wrong?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows at his mum.

"No, why would anything be wrong?"

"Because you're just standing there..."

"Oh, no." Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No, no...nothing's wrong. I'm just--It's just--"

"I understand," said Ron, holding up his hands. "I'm worried about Hermione, too."

"Right," she said, nodding. "Of course you are."

After standing there awkwardly for a few minutes, Ron felt her arms around him. "Don't worry, Ronnie," she whispered. "She'll be fine."

He nodded, and she left the room.

Ron sighed, and then walked over to the mirror. He ruffled his hair a little to make it look a little less like he had just rolled out of bed. But every time he left his hair alone, it would fall limply around his head.

Oh it doesn't matter, anyway, he thought to himself. It's just Hermione, and she'll be unconscious.

His heart panged a little at his thoughts. She's unconscious. Hermione is unconscious. Hermione.

Crack.

"Hey, lil bro," said Fred, grinning at Ron. "Trying to go for the ruffled look? Don't even try it...doesn't work."

Ron looked at him skeptically. "What are you talking about?"

"Girls, Ron," said George, grinning even wider than Fred.

"What about them?"

"They don't like the ruffled look." Fred grinner even harder.

"Uh--okay," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"In other words, Hermione won't like you with the ruffled look." George snickered.

"Why do I care what Hermione thinks?" said Ron, turning to face the mirror.

"Because--well--I won't tell you why," said George teasingly. "You're just going to have to figure that out yourself."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked his brothers incredulously.

Fred and George laughed. "We told you. We're not going to tell you. See you at breakfast."

Crack.

"Dammit!" Ron cursed, just as Harry walked into the room.

"What happened?" he asked, throwing his pajamas on his bed.

"Nothing." Ron shook his head. "Nothing...let's just go to breakfast."

Harry shrugged, and followed Ron into the hallway and down the stairs. When they got to the kitchen, a very suave looking wizard with well-kept, curly auburn hair and hazel eyes was sitting down at the table, talking to Mr. Weasley.

"Ahhh," said Mr. Weasley, beaming as Ron and Harry walked into the room. "There you two are. Ron, I'd like you to meet Andy, your cousin."

"Hi," said the wizard named Andy, as he got up and shook Ron's hand.

"Hi," said Ron, smiling back. Ron was pleased to know that he was about two inches taller than his suave cousin.

"And Andy, this is Harry, a friend of Ron's," said Mr. Weasley, nodding at Harry.

Andy smiled at Harry and shook his hand as well.

"AHHHHH!" came a shrill shriek, causing Ron to jump out of his skin. He turned around to see his mother running down the stairs. "Good heavens," she breathed out, staring at Andy in shock. "This can't be little Andy Whitter, can it?"

Andy grinned. "Hi, Aunt Molly."

Mrs. Weasley gave another shriek. "Oh my God!" she squealed, flinging her arms around her nephew. "Look at you!" She let go of him, and held his arms at arm length. "Well, you turned out to be just as handsome as your father. Ron, Andy's father is who you're named after! Bilius!"

Ron ears turned pink.

"Oh, Andy...how old are you now?"

"I'm seventeen," said Andy, as they all sat down at the table.

"You're seventeen?" Ron blurted out in shock. Andy didn't look seventeen, he like he was about twenty.

Andy laughed. "Yeah. This summer I had a major growth spurt."

"Andy goes to school in Italy," Mr. Weasley informed Harry and Ron. "And he was just granted the permission to spend the year here in England, studying to become an Auror."

"Really?" said Mrs. Weasley, impressed.

Andy nodded.

"That's wonderful, dear," she said, smiling brightly.

"Thank you," he said. "This was supposed to be my last year in school, but I got the opportunity to train to be an Auror here, so here I am."

"That's wonderful," said Ron in what he hoped didn't sound like sarcasm. He didn't like this guy. He seemed way too perfect for Ron's liking.

"And his first mission," said Mr. Weasley, "is to escort us to St. Mungo's. If you lot are done with breakfast, let's--wait, where have Fred and George gone to?"

Crack.

"Who yelled?" said Fred, looking around the room. "We heard a yell a few minutes ago--"

"That was me," said Mrs. Weasley, patting Andy's back. "Fred, George, this is Andy, your cousin. Say hello."

"Hello," said Fred and George in unison.

"Hi," said Andy with a wave.

"Alright, now that we know who everyone is--wait, where's Ginny?"

At that very moment, Ginny ran down the stairs. "Sorry," she panted. "I--had to--sorry--"

"Don't worry about it," said Mr. Weasley, holding up his hands. "Let's just get going."

~*~

The train ride to London was bumpy and very uncomfortable. Ron was constantly thrown against Fred, who would scoff, and throw him against George, who would scoff as well and throw him against Fred, etc., etc. Ron wondered why he had to be right smack dab in the middle of them. He also wondered why he couldn't have had nice, loving brothers.

Ten minutes later, the train stopped abruptly; Harry and the Weasleys all got off, and then traveled up the escalator and into the street.

"Follow me everyone!" said Mrs. Weasley as she led the way down the sidewalk. Ron thought that they must have looked like an odd bunch; his parents were dressed in their Muggle best (which was not very "best"), six of them had flaming red hair, Andy looked too suave to even be a part of the group, and Harry was clunking along behind them with his baggy clothes and untidy hair.

Finally, they reached Purge and Dowse Ltd., a red, shabby brick department building. Mrs. Weasley leaned close to the glass, looking at the dummy that hung in the window, and said, "We're here to see Hermione Granger."

The dummy nodded, and moved its finger. Mrs. Weasley grabbed her husband and Ginny, and they disappeared into the glass of the building. Andy, Fred, and George went next, then Ron and Harry.

The reception room of St. Mungo's looked exactly the same as it did when Ron visited his father the year before, except there weren't as many people. There was one person who caught Ron's eye. He was sitting down next to his mother, and he had just grown horns in the lower parts of his body. Ron exchanged looks with Harry, who grinned and snorted.

They followed Mrs. Weasley to the queue where the same plump blonde witch sat at her desk labeled Inquiries. There was a little boy in line who looked very disgruntled indeed. His once-blonde hair was caked with dirt and mud and he had scrapes and bruises all over his arms.

"What happened to you?" asked the blonde witch.

"My brother got spell happy," grunted the boy, glaring sideways at a boy who was struggling not to burst out into laughter.

"Fourth Floor," said the witch simply.

They nodded and stalked off.

"Hello," said Mrs. Weasley cheerfully after they moved forward. "I'm looking for Hermione Granger."

The witch looked down on her desk. "She's on the fourth floor, first door on the left."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Weasley politely, motioning for everyone to follow her. They walked through the double doors, and up four flights of stairs until they finally reached Hermione's ward, Major Spell Damage. Mrs. Weasley stopped walking, and stood in front of the first door on the left.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley. "Harry, Ron, you two go first...Andy, go with him."

The three of them nodded, and Ron--feeling very nervous--turned the doorknob and went inside, followed by Harry and Andy.

There were two patients in Hermione's room. Hermione was in the bed at the far end of the room, near a large window. Ron's heart leap when he saw that she was indeed very much awake. She looked beautiful, despite the fact that she was sick. She'd done something different with her hair, it was curly--not bushy--and it fell around her face in bouncy ringlets; her lips were shiny and full; and her face seemed to have a glow to it. Mrs. Granger must have said something funny because she threw her head back and let out a cute little laugh that sent shivers up Ron's spine. Harry gave Ron a little shove in the back, snapping him back to reality. Ron nodded and walked forward.

"Uh," he said dumbly, yet still making his presence known.

Hermione looked at him, and smiled brightly. "Ron! Harry! Hi! Come here.... Don't worry about me...I'm fine. I woke up around three this morning. My ribs are still messed up, but Healer Thompson is making me take potions, so they'll get better." She smiled as they gathered around her bed. "Oh...Mum...this is Harry and Ron and-er-uh-"

"Oh, this is Andy," Ron spoke up, putting a hand on Andy's shoulder. "He's my cousin."

"Oh, hi," said Mrs. Granger and Hermione in unison.

"Hi," Andy replied politely, smiling at them.

"Well, Hermione, now that your friends are here," said Mrs. Granger, getting up from her chair, "I'm going to go get some tea."

"Okay," said Hermione as she watched her mother walk away. Ron could have sworn that he saw Mrs. Granger give Hermione a slight wink.

"So, er, how are you?" asked Harry as he and Ron sat down in the chairs by the bed.

"I'm okay," said Hermione with a slight shrug. "I mean...my ribs hurt, but other than that..."

"Right," said Harry, nodding.

But Ron felt that something was wrong. Hermione had always been able to lie really well, and now he felt that was definitely one of those times. He sensed she wasn't telling him and Harry something.

"How was your summer?" she said, smoothing out her blanket.

"Pretty good," Harry said with a shrug. "I mean...Voldemort hasn't been very active, so I haven't--you know--felt anything in my scar--"

"But what about Sirius?"

"--And I've been seeing Lisa Turpin," he continued as if Hermione hadn't said anything. "She's a Ravenclaw, you know. We met up at an ice cream parlor. She's actually quite nice...I like her a lot."

Hermione nodded and forced a smile in Harry's direction. She and Ron exchanged glances, and Ron knew that she knew that Harry was hiding something, too.

What's going on with these two? Ron thought.

"How's your summer been?" Harry asked Hermione.

"You mean besides being attacked by Death Eaters?" she said with a slight amount of sarcasm.

Harry nodded awkwardly.

"My parents and I went to France for a few weeks," she said, nodding.

Andy perked a little. "Avez-vous eu un voyage agréable?" he said in a heavy French accent.

"Oui," said Hermione, grinning at Andy. "Vous parlez le français?"

"Oui," said Andy. "I grew up in France."

"That's interesting," said Hermione, looking at him as if she were debating whether or not he was a good person.

"Why are your lips all shiny?" asked Harry bluntly.

Hermione grinned. "It's Vaseline. Healer Thompson has this asurd idea that it'll help my ribs."

"Oh," said Harry, looking utterly confused. "Why--"

"I have no idea." Hermione shrugged and shook her head at the same time.

"Oh," Andy said, nodding. "So...I'm going to go get some tea--"

"I'll go with you," said Harry as he got out of his chair and followed Andy out of the room.

"Ron--"

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he blurted out, scooting closer to her bed.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Hermione, come on," he said, giving her a disbelieving look. "I know you...all this happy stuff is just a front isn't it?"

She played with her hands a little. "I reckon so. I mean, maybe if I smile a lot and act all happy, I'll feel better on the inside."

"Is it working?"

"A little." Hermione shrugged, then cringed and placed an arm around her ribs. "I need to stop doing that."

Ron smiled awkwardly. "I'm--I'm glad you're okay."

Hermione grinned. "Me too."

"No, I mean...seriously," he said nervously. "I mean, you scared me--Harry, too--so much when we found out what had happened to you. I got mad at Mum for not telling me about seeing you."

"I wanted to see you, Ron, I really did," said Hermione quietly, "but I was just afraid something would happen to you, and I didn't want that. I was afraid something would happen to Harry, and I didn't want that either. I just--it's important that we understand--it's like what Sirius said last year--some things are just worth dying for, and you and Harry are two of those things."

Ron was slightly boggled that she said he was worth dying for. He, Ron Weasley, youngest male of the Weasley clan, clumsy git extraordinaire was worth dying for. And the fact that Hermione said that to him was just the icing on the cake.

"So are you," he whispered, staring straight into her eyes.

Hermione blushed a little. "Thanks."

"Uh--Hermione--can I ask you a quesiton?"

"Sure."

"What happened with Dolohov?"

Hermione's face darkened, and her brown eyes started to water.

"You don't have to...if--if you don't want to," said Ron quickly, holding out a placatory hand to her.

"No, it's okay," she said with a sniff. "I'll tell you.

"Well, I was just sitting around with your mum and we were playing chess when we heard a bang. My first instinct was to get my wand, but Mrs. Weasley told me to go upstairs to my room. I did, and on my way, I kept hearing yells of, Impedimenta! and Stupefy!, and I got so scared that your mum was getting hurt that I got distracted and bumped into Dolohov on my way upstairs. He smiled at me and dragged me to my room. When we got there, he muttered something and did this slashing movement with his wand, and then a purple light went through my ribs. It hurt like hell. It felt like my body was being cut in half, like every bone, every muscle was on fire and--" she cut off as tears started to fill in her eyes once again. Her hands went up to her face, and she sobbed.

Ron didn't know what to do. He felt helpless. He knew he should do something, he just didn't know exactly what he should do. Just then, he had the strongest urge to wrap his arms around her, to hold her close to him and tell her everything would be alright. He wanted to protect her from all the evil in the world. But, instead of doing that, he awkwardly patted her arms.

"Don--Don't cry 'Mione," he whispered, gently pulling her hands away from her face. "Please don't cry. It's all over, now. It's going to be okay. I'll get him, I promise."

She sniffed, and then nodded. Ron reached out and nervously wiped a tear away from her face with his thumb.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered, looking at him intently.

He shrugged. "No problem."

~*~

Once everyone had been in to see Hermione a few hours later, Mrs. Weasley announced that it was time to leave. Much to Ron's anger and disappointment, Mrs. Weasley dragged him out of St. Mungo's kicking and screaming.

"But Mum," he whined, clutching onto Hermione's bed for dear life. "I can't leave her! What if something happens? What if--"

"Ron...you'll see me tomorrow," Hermione said, patting his hand to soothe him a little. Even though she was trying to keep a strong face, she couldn't help but giggle a little at Ron's behavior. The look on Ron's face when Mrs. Weasley told him it was time to go mirrored one of a little child who's lollipop has just been taken away.

"But, but--"

"And my parents are here," said Hermione, nodding. "If I drop dead, they'll be the first to tell you."

Ron frowned. "'Mione, that's not funny."

She gave him a teasing look that annoyed him melted his heart at the same time. "Ron," she said, "I appreciate you wanting to stay here, but you have to go home. And brush your hair. What's wrong with your hair, anyway?"

Ron's ears turned red. So, he thought, Fred and George were right about the ruffled look.

"I--I just got dressed really quickly this morning," he stuttered nervously.

Fred and George sniggered.

"Well--uh--bye, then," he said, smiling awkwardly at her.

"Bye, Ron," she said, as he let go of her bed.

"Bye Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he said, waving at Hermione's parents.

"Bye, Ron," they said simultaneously, smiling at him.

He nodded, and--once everyone had said their goodbyes--the Weasleys and Harry left Hermione's room.