Ok, sorry for the long wait, I wont bore you with my excuses. All italics are memories, so keep that in mind, this finally answers the question- 'what's wrong with Ron?' So, here it is…
"Fate is a misconception, it is only a cover-up for the fact you don't have control over your own life."- unknown.
Chapter Twelve: A Trick Of Fate And Lines Uncrossed
A mug of coffee substituted a bottle of alcohol, a dull October light was permitted entry through the usually drawn curtains, Ronald Weasley had been slowly changing his previous lifestyle.
After much deliberation, and heartbreaking split, Ron was ready to change for the better. It had been over a week since he had split from Hermione, a week since he had spoken to his mother, and a week without any social interaction, apart from a few hours previously.
He had spent the better part of the week wallowing in his own thoughts and dreading the next St. Mungos visit-- where he would be prodded and poked, jabbed and lectured on how he could lead a normal life, despite his illness which would later kill him.
As he sat in his lonely abode, occasionally sipping from his mug, his mind drifted to the memory of the day he received news of his illness…
July 28th 2017
"Ron! We've had this conversation before, I don't want you taking any unnecessary risks at work! Think before you act, and for Merlin's sake, don't think you can always do the job alone!" Hermione argued exasperatedly. He simply stood and crossed his arms defiantly across his chest.
The ministry had once again reprimanded him for trying to be heroic. He had tried to single-handedly disarm a group of dark wizards, failing miserably and putting innocent lives at risk. Harry had been the one who had to lecture Ron for his inappropriate methods and hadn't held back because of their friendship, something Ron was still reeling from.
" I don't understand this!" he cried out heatedly, flailing his arms in annoyance.
"I mean, Harry does it all of the time! He's always going it alone, playing the hero!" Ron told her.
"He's the head auror Ron, it's his job." she replied frustrated, whipping the tea towel onto the kitchen counter top.
"SO? He puts lives at risk all of the time, never calls for back-"
"YOU'RE NOT HARRY!" Hermione screamed cutting him off. Ron immediately ceased his ramblings and snapped his head in her direction.
"What?" he asked confusedly.
"I said you are not Harry, stop trying to be like him." she told him slowly and flatly.
Ron's ears reddened and he shook his head at his wife's words.
"Not Harry. The perfect bloody boy who lived and conquered, head auror and dark wizard catcher extraordinaire, no, I can never be him can I?" he spoke, leaving Hermione to sink into a chair as he slammed the kitchen door behind him.
Despite his anger, and despite the fact that he had participated in yet another marital row, he managed to apparate to the ministry where he met up with his fellow colleague- Ava Lockewood.
"Hello, Mr. I-think-I-can-work-alone," she greeted calmly, looking up from the files on her desk.
"Give it a rest." he retorted, slamming his jacket onto his seat.
"Seriously, as your partner, one of these days you're going to get me dragged into one of your messes. We work as a team, if you even attempt to tackle another mission single-handedly again I'm going to file for a different partner." she told him bluntly.
Ron took a moment to think about her words and huffed nosily, Ava had always been one for abiding by the laws, playing by the book, she was a strong and devoted auror who knew when to draw the line. He knew he'd been pissing her off with his 'going it alone' attitude, and she wouldn't hesitate to remind him.
Simply nodding, he retreated behind his desk and sorted through the numerous files, inwardly cursing at the amount of paperwork to be done.
"How're Hermione and the kids?" Ava asked conversationally, tying her long black hair into a tight ponytail.
"Fine." he replied minimally. He didn't want to talk about family life, especially since he had been involved in another petty argument. Returning to his paperwork a silence fell upon the joint office and it remained that way until an intern popped his head through the office doorway with a sheet of parchment.
"I've been sent to give you this," he spoke, holding out the piece of paper, "It's a tip off about the Crius gang, some unusual activity has been going on around the Knockturn Alley area and they want you to check it out."
Ron immediately shoved the files from his hold and made a move to grab his jacket, being out in the field always excited him. Ava gave him a stern glare as he made to apparate alone and she shook her head as if looking at a three year old.
"What?" he snapped.
"T-E-A-M W-O-R-K." she recited slowly.
Why was she doing this? Couldn't she see that he was a capable auror? He thought to himself angrily.
It infuriated Ron, the way everyone thought he was incapable of attempting a mission alone. Harry Potter was allowed, Harry Potter was trusted enough to carry out cases alone- why wasn't he--just because he was an auror and not head auror? He fought in the war with Harry; he battled the death eaters, why wasn't his effort ever recognised? When they had assigned him a partner he had felt belittled- Harry didn't have a partner. Hermione had told him to get over his incessant jealousy, threatening to hex him into the next century.
"RON!" Ava yelled.
"What?!" he replied in the same pitch.
"Merlin's beard, snap out of your bloody trance and get your ass shifted, the Crius gang aren't going to wait for your slow ass to show up, I've been waiting for these slimy bastards to show up for months!" she huffed, before disappearing with a faint 'crack'.
"Bloody mental that one," Ron told the intern as he followed suit of Ava and disappeared on the spot.
Recovering from the feel of apparition, Ron quickly followed Ava and made to change his appearance before he entered the depths of the infamous Knockturn alley. His thick red hair became a dark brown and his eyes switched to a deep hazel.
"Kinda makes you look like a male Hermione," Ava said softly to him, stifling a laugh at his narrowed eyes, flicking her now blonde hair over her shoulder and tightening a travelling cloak around her body to add to her 'mysterious' persona. Knockturn alley was well known for its illegal magic and the characters that were always shady, meaning that they had to blend into the atmosphere or risk the chance of being found out.
"Haha, gotcha," Ava whispered triumphantly as they neared a dilapidated building, sporting the sign 'Dark Alibi' a shop known for selling dark and illegal artefacts. The two hid behind a side alley, watching as the gang members circulated around a pile of boxes, taking it in turns to pick one up and then to carry it into the building.
"There's the ringleader." Ava pointed out and Ron nodded as Leander Everett kept a sharp watch, leaving the physical work to his men. The Crius gang was suspected to have stolen a great deal from the ministry, having had a spy planted within the department of mysteries. After a short while, a huge heist had been carried out and several highly dangerous artefacts had been stolen, some so rare and dangerous, not even the unspeakables had been able to decipher how much of a threat the items posed to the life of a witch or wizard.
After a short while, three of the four cronies had dissapparated, leaving Everett and a burly looking wizard behind.
"We need to call for back-up, and then we'll be able to take down this creep once and for all." Ava spoke, craning her neck around the alley wall to watch Everett enter the building.
"Why? We can do this." Ron told her defiantly. They didn't need back-up; they were capable of arresting two wizards- surely?
"Oh no, we can't!" Ava whispered sharply, "You know how dangerous Everett is! This could go so very wrong, and then you'll be in some deep shit Weasley."
"Come on Ava! This could go right! Just think of the satisfaction when we drag his sorry ass into the ministry, we'll be bloody heroes!" Ron exclaimed excitedly, his hunger for recognition was clouding his thoughts for a moment and he truly believed that they could pull this off.
"No way, Weasley, I'm not risking it, think about what Harry said! You can't carry on with this heroic dream you've all of a sudden culminated. Get over it, and get over it now."
Ron grimaced- she thought he couldn't do it. Hermione's words resounded in his mind as he thought about the situation- she knew he wasn't capable either, the thought infuriated him.
Without another glance back, he jumped to his feet with his wand poised and raced to the building in which Everett had entered.
The last moments he could remember before being rendered unconscious, were the memories of being hit forcefully in the back, his spine crippling under the intense pressure of an unknown spell.
Before falling, and crumpling into a tight ball on the floor.
Raising the mug of piping hot coffee to his waiting lips, he remembered the look on Hermione's face when she was called to St. Mungos, she was livid. She had whispered several obscenities to him under her breath and had been assured by the main healer that he was fine, ensuring that she could go home to watch the kids.
As he basked in the light emitting from the window, he remembered what the healer had said to him after she had left…
"Am I really ok?" he asked the stout healer, wrinkling his nose at the several wires penetrating his limp form. The healer took the clipboard from the end of his bed and sighed, prolonging the answer.
"Not entirely." Healer Smethwhyck had replied, leafing through the clipboard and then placing it under his arm.
"W-what do you mean?" he asked, slightly nerved at the prospect of being ill.
"What I'm saying Mr. Weasley, is that you were hit with an unknown curse, it seems to be unregistered and henceforth illegal. So far it has not produced any side affects apart from your bout of unconsciousness. The healers have been doing their best to research it, but with no side affects and no name, we are unsure of what to do-" the healer was promptly cut off by the violent beeping of the monitor that displayed his vital signs.
His heart beat quickened.
Eyes widened.
A crippling pain shot through his body again and his hands clenched as the healers congregated around his bedside, arguing over treatments and cures.
As soon as the pain had struck it had vanished, leaving him breathless and light-headed. He groaned as an aching feeling overtook him.
Through the noise of the bustling healers and the fast paced medical malarkey he could clearly hear Healer Smethwhyck conversing with what looked like another healer.
"It's draining his magical core, it took a while but the curse is finally set in motion. It's going to continue draining him and eventually will render him with the inability to produce magic. His body isn't responding well and his vital signs are slowly deteriorating."
"I can hear you, y'know!" Ron shouted towards them, clutching his chest in the process. Healer Smethwhyck turned promptly and the other healer followed with a grim look to his aging features.
"It's not looking good, Mr. Weasley."
He remembered that the healers had given him several potions, performed several healing spells and had even tried to create some of their own, despite not knowing what the initial curse was. However, their efforts were to no avail and they had given him the dreaded news- that the curse was proving fatal.
The crippling pain never returned, however the deterioration continued at an exceedingly slow pace. He remembered that he had lashed out at first, not believing that his life would soon come to an end. He refused to tell Hermione, and anyone else in the family, first out of a belief that he was perfectly well and second out of embarrassment. Ava had visited and relayed the events to him, he had been cursed by Everett, and left to succumb to the curse as Everett escaped. She put up a cold front and refused to show any sympathy, telling him that she was filing for a partner transfer. Soon after her revelation, she left, leaving him to wallow in his self pity. Hermione was kept in the dark about his illness, left to believe that Ron was on the road to recovery and he refused to tell her otherwise.
When the healers had arranged a regular timetable for him to attend medical check-ups with Healer Walker, he was allowed to go home, with the belief that he had two years to live, providing that he attended the meetings and took the strengthening potions. He threw himself into drinking and depression overtook. As he was suspended from work for a week due to his preposterous and irresponsible behaviour, he spent the time lounging about at home, watching Quidditch and essentially just thinking about his future and his past.
The thought of death terrified him and it also made him think about his relationship with Hermione. As he analyzed it he thought about the war and how it altered his perspectives. His mother's depression and need to fill the void that should have been Fred pressured him into dating Hermione; he needed to do something- anything that would cheer her up in the slightest. Molly had been overjoyed when she had heard about the kiss between Hermione and himself, it only spurred her further into hinting that they would be a great couple.
The war brought people together, after Harry and Ginny reconciled and began another relationship together, it was as if he was expected to court Hermione. He could remember Neville patting him on the back, telling him that he finally had his chance with Hermione. Finally relenting he asked her out and she accepted, albeit, he did sense a little reluctance from her, whether he was being paranoid he didn't know, but he decided to ignore it.
Despite his uncertainty he continued to date her, eventually learning to let his feelings subside.
As he drained the last of his coffee from his mug, he placed it onto the arm of the chair and closed his eyes wearily. Images from Harry and Ginny's wedding filled his mind, in his eyes, that was the day that finally and fully accepted his and Hermione's relationship. He felt guilty for hiding these fears, for feeling the way he did but the day of his best friend's wedding finally settled his inner turmoil after the several questions about when he would propose to Hermione.
That was the day he realised that he was expected to marry Hermione. It made him see that he was expected to have a future with her and it was then that his feelings settled. In all honesty, he didn't believe they were the greatest match, but they seemed to fare well.
Although he had accepted his relationship with Hermione, he still felt as though she was reluctant to move forwards in their relationship. He noticed that she seemed somewhat withdrawn on Harry and Ginny's wedding day, she had gone missing from the service and at one point had almost needed a search party to find her. She, however, soon came back and settled into her role as maid of honour.
He never did find out where she went, and never questioned it; he felt it wasn't his place. Soon after he proposed and she accepted- as was expected. Their wedding came soon after, just before the birth of James. His feelings were mixed on the wedding day; he put it down to wedding jitters and ignored the slight feeling that he was making a mistake. His mother fussed, his father continued to voice his pride and the rest of his friends and family watched the wedding in awe, ignorant of the uneasy feel that had recently become bestowed upon him, ignorant of the slight hesitation in the voicing of 'I do' on both parts.
Life as a wedded couple progressed and he soon fell into the reality that he was married to Hermione and let his feelings die down once more. When James was born, Hermione seemed to become distant once again, but he felt no need to question her upon it. He wondered if she even realised it herself. Married life soon became more familiar and normality and the announcement that Hermione was pregnant finally sealed the feelings he had ever encountered forever. After Rose was born it was almost as if he had never doubted his and Hermione's relationship, Hermione became less distant and they were fighting less. When he saw his daughter for the first time, any ounce of regret that he held was swept away. Hermione seemed happy beyond belief and the arrival of Hugo only increased his happiness.
He continued that way until they started fighting again; right around the time that Harry received his promotion. He felt it somewhat unfair that he was 'left behind' in the auror department and hated the fact that Harry Potter was once again stealing the limelight. Now of course, he could see that he was completely jealous and acting like a spoiled child, but at the time he felt let down. The fights became part of their regular lives, many popping up during their daily lives, intruding somewhat.
Once he was aware of his illness, the feelings soon became undone once again after almost twelve years of being suppressed and hidden away: the feeling that he had made a mistake. It became clearer about why they fought-- it was always about Harry. His mind soon span and he remembered realising that Hermione was distant from him because of Harry. She had gone missing on Harry's wedding day, and she had become distant on the day of Harry's son's birth. It all made sense, where he had lingering feelings that their marriage was a mistake; she had the lingering regret of not being with Harry.
After finishing his memory trek and wincing as the sunlight blinded him, he quickly pressed a hand to his eyes to avoid the resonating light.
I wonder if she's even realised? He thought wistfully.
As his thoughts drifted, not really developing, just simply-swirling a loud hoot alerted him that he had a nocturnal visitor. He deftly jumped from his seat and went to retrieve the parchment from the majestic snowy owl. It hooted indignantly at the sight of no treat and flapped its great wings violently, to take off.
"Bloody bird." Ron mumbled untying the parchment, however, halting at the sight of the St. Mungos emblem. He had spent most of today at the hospital on one of his regular arranged visits, Healer Walker had done the usual tests, potion distributing and had given him the usual lecture about keeping healthy over the next two years. He had left the hospital in his usual fashion, however with certain finesse to his usually downcast step.
His fingers trembled as he stared at the parchment.
His heart beat quickened.
Eyes widened.
Mr. Weasley,
I request an urgent meeting immediately, the results of your weekly tests have been delivered, I'm sure that you'll be thoroughly surprised.
Healer T. M Walker
Head Healer
Fourth floor -spell damage
------------
Furling The Daily Prophet in his hold, Harry Potter slammed it onto his desk in pure frustration and cursed. Unfortunately, the Prophet had caught wind of the divorce and had massacred the true story, claiming that the split was due to Ginny's unrequited love for Harry, claiming that he was a loveless wreck.
Despite her hierarchy within the Daily Prophet, Ginny had not righted the articles regardless of the several owls he had sent. He felt that it was her way of getting back at him because of the way he ended their marriage. He convinced himself that he wouldn't be utterly surprised if Ginny even wrote them herself.
A week had passed since he had told the boys about the split, and knowing what he knew now, he was glad that he did it before the Prophet could interfere with their minds. As a child he was constantly influenced by the likes of the Daily Prophet and he tended to react negatively to any story they printed concerning him.
Heaving a great sigh he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose to quell the stuffy feeling that engulfed his senses. The clock in his office chimed noon and he revelled in its melodic tune as it signalled his break hour.
He stood to don his cloak and grabbed a stack of files that would begrudgingly join him for lunch. As he returned his glasses to the bridge of his nose, a loud 'crack' caught him off guard and the body of a woman collided with the side of his desk.
"Shit!" he cursed outwardly, dropping the files unceremoniously to the floor and kneeling to help his best friend up from the floor.
"Hermione? What the hell are you doing, apparating into my desk?" he asked somewhat shocked. With his help, she quickly shuffled to her feet and brushed the imaginary dust from her outfit.
"I got a bit distracted on my way over, since when did you have your desk to the right?" she asked rubbing her shin to ease the sharp pain.
"Since forever." he replied, watching her with an air of confusion.
"Are you ok?" he asked concernedly. She nodded vehemently and flashed a quick smile to prove her point.
"Nana Granger decided to visit." she told him quickly, biting her lip in thought as she stared at the floor with some enthusiasm.
"And?" Harry asked, sensing a story behind her grandmother's visit. She hesitated for a few seconds and then regained speech.
"She caught wind of the divorce, and I can assure you, Nana Granger is a woman who lives for the olden days and ancient traditions. Upon hearing of my divorce, she promptly gave me a two hour long lecture on what I should have been as a wife and how I still have time to make things right." Hermione told him casually.
"It's all my fault apparently," she smirked sarcastically, "Nana says that I should've fought tooth and nail to keep the relationship going, and that I'm a 'silly girl' to let a marriage go to waste." she continued, her words wavering with each revelation.
"Nana says that I've never been one for relationships, and that I should've stayed away from marriage--that I wasn't ready--that I-I couldn't. I wasn't marriage material because I was far too distant." She began to tear up and he quickly enveloped her in a comforting hug.
"Nana Granger is deluded." he replied quickly, laughing as Hermione slapped his arm slightly.
"She is my grandmother though." she sighed longingly, "and I just ran out of there and apparated as soon as I reached the porch, my parents are going to be furious, it's a relief Hugo is at the Burrow."
"You sound like a teenager in trouble." he replied cheekily. She responded with a narrowing of the eyes and moved away from his notably, warm body and sank into his chair.
"Until it's safe to assume that Nana Granger is well and truly on her way back to Devon, I'm camping out here." she told him jokingly, shuffling the papers around his desk, trying to regain some appropriate order. Her eyes shifted over the various pieces of parchment and her gaze caught sight of the partially destroyed Prophet, lifting it to examine it carefully, she looked back up at him and he turned away coughing.
"Why are you still reading this?" she asked softly, watching him for a sign of response.
"I didn't mean to, I forgot Ginny bought a subscription in my name." he replied quickly, picking the files up from the floor and depositing them on his desk.
"That's my case!" she cried out in shock as she pointed to the top file, her hands reaching out to verify that this was in fact her case.
"Harry? Why do you have -" she counted the other familiar files and continued, "-three of my cases?"
"I took them from Seamus after you left for a bit, decided it wasn't fair to let him wallow knee deep in work."
"So, you decided to drown yourself instead?" she asked quietly, holding the files to her chest as Harry nodded with a blush. She immediately jumped from her seat and engulfed him in one of her infamous hugs, nearly toppling the pair over in the process.
The closeness she felt to his body increased when he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her so close that she could feel the beat oh his heart against her ear, a sound so calming and soothing it halted any thanks she was about to reply with.
His free hand began to stroke her hair, tangling itself mercilessly within her locks, his fingers deftly massaging her scalp. She elicited the smallest of moans and lost coherent thought as he continued with his ministrations, slowly moving her backwards until her legs quickly met the wood of the desk.
She had to admit that she was surprised at the positioning of their 'platonic' embrace. Her mind now raced with the sudden onslaught of possible outcomes this certain situation could result in.
Don't think! One side of her brain screamed, whilst the other side argued.
Their eyes met, melding together in a quick glance.
This was dangerous territory.
A line so close to being crossed.
Lips twitched as their owners froze, and then slowly began to near one another.
Breath so close.
Seconds and their lips would meet, mere inches. Necks inclined, they were a centimeter apart when the ride crashed, and the moment was lost.
"I t-think I should go." Hermione whispered, dropping her head to his chest. He held her tightly, but no amount of force could keep her from leaving.
She dissapparated immediately, only just catching the "I'm sorry." from her best friend, leaving that very thin line…uncrossed.