|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: Bart Story: I Will Be Waiting Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Warning: Character Death Reviews: 11 Words: 44,681
Harry Potter quite obviously belongs to JK Rowling and her publishers. I should also point out that the structure of this fic is inspired by, "The Five People You Meet In Heaven" by Mitch Album. Which also doesn't belong to me. ~*~ Ron's Eighteenth Summer It was the second week of the summer of 1997, and the wizarding world was now on a war footing. This meant that Ron and his family had not yet spent more than two nights in the same place since returning from Hogwarts. In an effort to stay ahead of Voldemort, Dumbledore had thought it prudent to keep moving, at least until the relevant charms and protections could once again be installed on The Burrow. Tintagle, Grimauld Place, Alnwick Castle, Spinner's Place, Slaithwhaite Corner... Ron had lost track of where he was staying. The worst thing was not being able to tell Hermione where he was. Harry, he could understand, and anyway, he would be seeing him in a day or so. No, the worst thing was not having any contact with Hermione. Unlike Harry, he wouldn't be able to see her until they returned to school for their seventh year in September. Not all that long ago he wouldn't have thought it was possible to miss somebody as much as he missed Hermione. Ron never ceased to be amazed by the feelings Hermione stirred in him. Feelings that had deepened the previous Christmas when he had finally plucked up the courage to ask her out - in front of Harry and Ginny, of all people! Of course, those two had been too busy snogging each other to notice, but that didn't stop the teasing later. However, by that point Ron didn't care. He was snapped from his reverie when Ginny entered his bedroom and clipped him round the back of the head, "Oi, I'm the only one who's allowed to look like that!" "Ow! Ginny, what'd you do that for?" grumbled Ron, rubbing his head. "Mum told me to come and shift your sorry arse." "Yeah, right! As if Mum would tell you to say that." "Well, close enough anyway," sniggered Ginny, who now leaned against one of the bedposts with a mischievous grin on her face. "Dumbledore's just sent word with Fawkes. The Burrow's ready and Mum insisted we return straight away. Dumbledore tried to put her off until tomorrow morning, but she was having none of it. Now come on. The Portkey activates in twenty minutes and if you're not there we'll leave you behind. Then you'll be stuck here, and poor Hermione will be stuck there, and we can't have that can we?" "Hermione...? Home...? What the chuffing hell are you on about Ginny?" "Oh, didn't I explain that bit; must have slipped my mind," Ginny grinned at Ron's confusion. "Anyway, must dash, Portkey and all that!" With that, Ginny set off down-stairs at a run, but not before clipping him round the head once more. ~*~ With only a slight stumble as he landed, Ron dropped the old glove he was using as a Portkey, and was about to turn round to help his sister, whose landing hadn't been so steady and was sitting on the floor, looking most disgruntled. Instead he was engulfed by a flash of brown bushy hair. "Ron!" "...'lo Hermione-" Further response from Ron was cut off, as Hermione's lips met his. "Excuuuse me... You two," interrupted Ginny, "but, could either of you could spare a moment and help me up, before the rest of the family decide to Portkey in right on top of me?!" "Oh, right, yeah, coming Ginny." An obviously flustered Ron stepped away from Hermione and reached his hand out to help his sister up. "Hello, Hermione, Professor Lupin got you here, I see," said Ginny as she stood up and brushed herself off. "Yes, he did. He's sitting in the kitchen, waiting for your dad," "Why? What's going on?" asked Ron. "I don't know, he wouldn't say," replied Hermione. "Well, come on, we better get out of here, before everyone else arrives," and before she could disagree, he grabbed his girlfriend's hand and led her out of the room. "Fine, just leave me here then!" Ginny shouted at their retreating backs. ~*~ Later that day, Ron entered the kitchen to find his father looking serious as he beckoned him to sit down. "Take a seat, Ron." "What's the matter, Dad?" "Just sit down, Son; there are a few things I need to talk to you about." For over an hour his father talked to him about what it was Professor Lupin had come to see him about. It seemed that the Order was to send them both on a mission, which would keep his father away until Ron returned to Hogwarts in the autumn. Despite what Hermione sometimes said, Ron wasn't daft, and he knew there was something his father wasn't telling him. He could see it in his eyes that his father was obviously worried about something, but Ron decided it was best not to press the issue. He left his father to speak to the rest of the family in turn, agreeing that the next day he would travel with his father and Mad-Eye Moody to the Ministry and Diagon Alley, to say good-bye and run some last minute errands for his mother. Quite why they needed the old Auror to come along, on what amounted to a simple shopping trip, Ron wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to complain if it meant a trip out. He was fed up with being house-bound. With a bit of luck he could use the opportunity to pick up a little surprise present for Hermione. ~~~*~~~ Ron Learns Some More Ron sat in stunned silence. Alastor, in a few words, had brought memories crashing back that he had tried very hard to forget. Alastor Moody sat on a nearby packing case, and smiled at Ron in a way which, had it been anybody other than Mad-Eye Moody, would have put Ron as ease. However, with the old Auror's magical eye still focussed on him, Ron was anything but at ease. Ron's legs, which had felt like jelly ever since Moody's revelation, finally gave way, and Ron sank to the floor. "Perhaps we should start at the beginning, Weasley; you do remember this place I take it?" Unable to speak as more memories came back to him, memories that he had locked away many years previously, Ron just nodded his head in reply, but kept his head low, lest Moody notice the tears steam down his face. "WEASLEY!" The Auror's sharp tone caused Ron to snap his head up. "I hope you didn't let what happened here rule your life, boy; you had better not have given them that satisfaction." "No, sir." Despite having outlived the old man, Ron still felt his inferior, "As far as I'm concerned, this place never happened." "Lad, that was letting it control your life; everything that happened here made you the man you became and gave you the strength you needed." "I did what I needed to do!" Ron replied angrily. "That's as may be, but I think you need to remember what happened here; only then can you learn why." With that the walls of the tunnel faded away to be replaced by a dark alley. ~*~ Stepping out of the red phone box that was the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, from where he had just said goodbye to his father and Professor Lupin. Ron walked over to join with Mad-Eye Moody and an Auror Ron didn't know. "Know where your wand is?" asked Moody. Ron was prepared for this. Only the previous night he had dug out his wand holster - a present from Charlie, made of Dragon skin - and clipped it onto a regular belt, providing 'easy access, and protection from unsolicited Wand sparks', and, hopefully, sparing him of one of the Auror's regular rants on proper wand care. He flicked his cloak aside to show Moody, and tapped his wand. "Cover it up boy! Anybody could be watching! Never, NEVER! give your enemy an advantage; just what -are- they teaching you at that school," replied the Auror, before whirling round and setting off. "Come on, the sooner we get this done, the happier I will be; what Dumbledore and your mother were thinking, I don't know; there could be anybody about waiting to attack." "Oh, come on, Alastor; it's Diagon Alley, not Voldemort's Lair we're going to, you know." The other Auror rolled his eyes at Ron as he spoke. "It's lax attitude like that which will get you into trouble, Jenkins, ALWAYS, THINK, THE, WORST!" the Auror punctuated each word, with a jab of his finger. "Yeah, yeah, Alastor, Constant Vigilance, I know," replied Jenkins. "Come on then, let's get moving, wouldn't want to be sitting ducks would we now?" Despite Mad-Eyes warning, the next few hours passed without incident; Ron managed to get all the tasks done his mother had asked of him. He had even managed to buy that present for Hermione he had wanted. As they were making their way to a spot at the far end of the Alley from where they could quietly Portkey out, Moody suddenly stopped in his tracks. Ron immediately could sense something was wrong and placed his hand on his wand, as he did so all hell broke loose. As he turned round, he could see the entire Alley was full of Death Eaters. Almost as soon as it all could register, he heard a vaguely familiar voice yell "Stupefy!" Behind him, his world went black. When he awoke, it was pitch-black, very cold, and every muscle in his body ached. It was as if a horde of Hippogriff's had run over his body. He tried to stretch, but found himself unable to move more than a few inches, due to what he now realised were heavy chains fixing him to the stone surface below. "That you, Weasley?" a weak voice asked. When Ron tried to answer, he found himself unable to make more than a rasping coughing noise. "It's okay, lad," the voice returned, "probably best not to make too much noise anyway; it only alerts them. Try and get some rest; I have a hunch we'll need it." Ron didn't get the chance to try and reply because the room was suddenly bathed in so much light his eyes hurt. The last thing he heard was the cry of "Crucio!" And the scream that followed it. Then his own body suddenly felt as if it was on fire, every single part of it hurt, and he let out a noiseless scream that seemed to go on for hours, until once again his world went black. This happened at least half a dozen more times, but by now Ron couldn't tell and didn't care. His body was in constant pain, and he could feel his strength slipping away. All he could do in the few minutes that he was conscious was pray for a death that never came. ~*~ Finally they were left alone, although for Ron this torture was almost worse still. He was in too much pain to sleep as he was still tightly chained down, unable to move and therefore unable to relieve the pain that was wracking his body. Whatever he had thought true suffering was before paled in insignificance to what he was going through now. How long they were left there, Ron never knew: Hours? Days? Weeks? There was no night and day in this darkened cell to give a sense of time, just torture and pain. Neither he nor his fellow prisoner had been able to talk since their first attempt, but he was fairly sure his companion was Alastor Moody from the grunts and groans he was able to make out. The voice next to him would have made him jump out of his skin if he had the strength. "Well, well, Weasley, you look an even more sorry sight than usual. With your family, I didn't think that was actually possible." "Lucius Malfoy!" thought Ron as he strained against his restraints. "Of course. Silly of me really, you can't see can you? We will have to do something about the lack of light in here; it's really not the way to treat our guests, is it?" Although Ron could not see him, he could sense Lucius Malfoy as he walked around him, and he froze as he felt the tip of a wand touch the side of his eye. Then he heard him mutter a spell and felt his eyelids flick open; no matter how hard he tried he was unable to close them again. "Fusus!" another muttered curse, and Ron knew Moody was going to suffer the same fate, whatever that was going to be. "Now then, behave while I'm gone. I should be back in day or two with some food; then again, it might be longer. Don't get up. I can see myself out!" snarled Malfoy, sarcasam dripping from every word. Ron growled and once again tried to move but his restraints held fast. "What was that Weasley?" sneered Malfoy, who was obviously enjoying himself, "Of course. How impolite of me. I promised you some light didn't I?" Ron immediately knew then why his eyelids had been fixed open, and he desperately tried to close them before Malfoy could utter his spell. "Accendo!" The cell was suddenly bathed in a bright white light. Almost immediately Ron's eyes began to burn like a hundred red-hot pins had just been poked in them both. Once again he began to scream, although as before he made no noise. ~~~*~~~ Ron's Second Lesson Continues Ron's breathing was short and shallow as he raised his head to look at Moody, "Why? Why Moody? Why, are you showing me this?" asked Ron hesitantly. "I'm not showing you anything, Weasley; you are choosing to remember." Moody's voice was surprisingly gentle. "But why?" "Because you need to understand." "Understand why I imprisoned for over three months and was tortured to point of death on an almost daily basis; what do I need to understand about that?" Ron was incredulous; he was not going to have this conversation. "How you survived, Weasley," replied Moody, pointedly ignoring Ron's growing distress. "What's that go to do with anything; it was just luck," snapped Ron. Moody stepped across the tunnel and rested his hand on Ron's shoulder. "Luck had nothing to do with it, Weasley. That's what you're here to learn..." ~*~ "NOX!" Ron heard the incantation, but it made no difference. He had been subjected to the light for so long that even though he knew it had been turned off, his eyes still burnt with its horrific glow. They were no less painful either; even when the curse was removed, he was unable to close his eyelids; they'd become so dry. Later someone else came in and released his hands from their restraints and something was forced into his hands. "Eat." With a lot of effort Ron brought the food to his lips: it was as dry as his throat, and even the smallest bite was incredibly painful to swallow. When he had managed to eat as much as he could without making himself sick, a drink was also placed in his hands. He tried to gulp it down, but all he managed to do was cough it everywhere. "Waste it, if you want, but you won't be getting anymore," snapped the voice. He was much more careful with what he had left, and sipped at it slowly. The drink must have been drugged, because soon afterwards sleep overcame him. When he awoke sometime later, he found his hands still unchained, but he still couldn't see, and his eyes still hurt like hell, but he was finally able to open and close his eyes, and he spent the next few minutes blinking to try and bring some relief from the dryness. He was still unable to speak, so couldn't communicate with whoever was in the cell with him. As he shuffled about as much as his bonds would allow him, he felt something dig into his leg, cursing he twisted his aching arm so he could reach into his pocket. His fingers clasped round the offending object, and he slipped it out of his pocket. It was giving off the faintest of red glows as he brought it closer to his face, his eyes were still having trouble making anything out, but he didn't need to see to know what this was. As the broach he had bought Hermione that day back in Diagon Alley tumbled from his fingers and on to the cold, stone slab below, he put his head between his legs and started to cry. Ron wasn't one given to crying much, but the few times he had, there had always been someone there to hold him, to bring him round, but here there was no-one, and it left him feeling incredibly lonely. When his tears finally subsided, he reached down and gently picked up Hermione's broach. Holding it carefully between his fingers he thought about his friends and family. Harry, don't worry mate; I'll get of here somehow. Don't you dare take on that git without me... Ginny, take care of that prat for me, will you? And if you could keep an eye on Hermione for me... Mum, Dad, I love you. Dad, I hope everything went well with your 'trip.' Hermione... As Ron's thoughts turned to the girl who had gained control of his emotions, he gripped the broach tightly, closed his eyes, and eventually fell into a deep sleep. The cycle of sleep followed by the odd bit of food continued for what Ron assumed to be nearly a week. Each 'night' he fell asleep clutching Hermione's broach and thinking of his family. When he awoke each morning, he slipped it back into his pocket, promising himself he would get out of here and see them again. Ron wasn't sure why the torture had stopped, nor did he particularly care, but he was worried about what was coming next. He was to find out when he was awoken the next day, when once again food was delivered. "You, have five minutes; don't waste them." With that the door slammed shut; surprisingly his companion spoke, and though weak, it was unmistakeably Moody's growl. "'Bout time we found out what they were up to." Taking a sip from his drink, Ron attempted to reply, "Moody?" his voice was hoarse, barley audible, and hurt like hell, but he could just about manage it. "Weasley, thank Merlin you're still with us." "Yeah, still here." "Well eat up, whatever they have planned, I have no doubt that we'll need it." "Moody?" "Weasley?" "Do you know how long we've been here?" "Nearly a month, I reckon," replied Moody. "Now eat up, they'll be back soon." By the end of the day, Ron was glad he had listened to Moody's advice. They had been made to spend the day clearing out what Ron judged, with his limited vision, to be a fairly large room with stone walls. The fact that they couldn't see and could hardly move didn't seem to matter to their captors, who each time they slowed, just worked them harder, hitting them with more and more curses. When they were finally allowed to return to their cell, Ron collapsed against the wall, hardly having enough strength to eat the food that had been left for them. "What was that about; why torture us for days, then have us shift bloody boxes for them." Ron wondered aloud. "I have no idea;" replied Moody, "it's not the way Death Eaters usually work. I was expecting them to interrogate us." They both jumped when Malfoy's voice spoke up from the doorway. "Now, why would we need to do that? You both spilled your guts under Veritaserum the first day you arrived. The past few weeks' fun was just a little entertainment while we waited for everything to be ready," he sneered. "Now, do sleep well, the digging starts tomorrow." Malfoy's words didn't really sink in until Ron was asleep. Many weeks later, Ron had learned the full meaning of Malfoy's words. From when they woke up each day until they were shepherded back into their cell at the end of the day, they were made to work, digging by hand with no explanation as to what they were doing. When they were left alone at night, Ron took out the broach he had bought Hermione that day back in Diagon Alley. The only reason he still had it was he thought that the Death Eaters hadn't thought it valuable enough to take. It was one of the first times in his life that Ron was glad he was poor: that simple piece of jewellery and what it represented was the only thing that kept him going. ~*~ Over the weeks Ron and Moody's sight slowly returned to almost normal, and the manual labour was effecting their bodies. Despite being regularly tortured for the entertainment of their captors, Ron's body at least was regaining its strength. This helped him take up the slack that Moody's weakened state created. The old Auror never complained, but was obviously suffering, and Ron knew that they had to get out of there soon if the old man was to survive. It wasn't until some weeks later that the opportunity did arise. Ron had noticed that for much of the week there were noticeably fewer Death Eaters guarding them, although there was always the possibility of more elsewhere, as he was fairly sure he had heard them talking about other teams working the mine. If they were going to take the chance it would have to be soon; he couldn't stay here any longer, and by the look of him Moody wouldn't last much longer down here. Ron knew he would have to check how well they were being watched though, as well as who was doing the watching. Due to the masks his guards wore, there was only one way Ron knew of telling them apart, and that was how they dealt with any insubordination on his or Moody's part. The way his captors handed out punishment was as individual as their voices. Unfortunately, this was likely to be painful, and something he would have to do himself: asking Moody to do it wasn't an option. Steeling himself, he threw his spade on the floor as hard as he could before holding his arm as if it was hurt. As he anticipated, a guard appeared in seconds, his cloak billowing wildly behind him as he spun round the corner into the narrow tunnel. "Weasley, who gave you permission to stop?" yelled the guard, his wand already outstretched, and pointing towards Ron. "I hit a stone. It hurt, and I'm due a rest anyway," Ron responded, knowing full well he was baiting the guard. "I decide when you get your breaks, you Muggle-loving piece of filth. Now get back to work, before I make you." "I SAID, I was hurt and needed a rest-" Ron didn't have chance to finish his sentence before, the curse hit and flung him against the tunnel wall. The guard didn't even look back as he whirled round and strode away with a curt, "Now, Work!" Groaning, he pulled himself into an upright position, "That BLOODY hurt that did." "And just what was that, lad?" asked Moody as he offered him his hand to pull him up. "Why on earth did you bait him like that? It was if you wanted to be cursed..." Grinning ruefully, Ron replied, "I did." "What on earth for, Weasley, what did that accomplish?" "I had to find out who he was?" "And?" "Well, he's new; apart from the fact our usual guards prefer the Cruciatus Curse, I've never heard his voice before." "And that's achieved what, Weasley?" Ron desperately did not want to lose his temper with the old man, but he couldn't believe the Auror could not see what he could, "Don't you see, Alastor?" "See what, boy? And don't you think you should get back to work before he returns?" "I'm counting on him returning, Moody, because I intend to use his head for beater practice!" "You're what?" "Sshh, he's coming back." Picking up his spade, he moved into the shadows by the tunnel entrance. "Pretend to be working." The Death Eater strode round the corner - in his arrogance he didn't even have his wand out Ron noted - as he slipped quietly behind him. "Weasley, where are yo-" the clang of the spade as it made contact reverberated round the tunnels, and Ron prayed that it went no farther. "Right behind you, you piece of shit," replied Ron as he kicked the Death Eater over and removed the wand from inside his cloak, before using it to cast ropes around its previous owner. "Right, that should hold you." Moody looked about to question Ron's sanity. Before he had chance to speak, Ron talked very quickly, "Moody, we need to get out of here. You're not going last much longer down here and you know it. Now listen to me. I don't know why, but there are not as many guards as normal and those that are here," he said, once again kicking the fallen Death Eater, "make Crabbe and Goyle look intelligent, so this may be the only chance we get, and we have to take it." Moody looked at him appraisingly for what to Ron felt like hours, before he nodded and clasped him on the shoulder, "You'd best lead on then, seeing as you have the only wand." The progress through the maze of tunnels was slow and agonising; they could hear what was almost certainly other captives in the distance, but as Moody was quick to point out, "The best way to help them is to get out and summon help, not get recaptured trying to set them free ourselves." Despite lots of objecting and cursing, Moody's firm grip on him, and repeated explanations eventually won out. This didn't make it any easier each time they heard the sound of workers digging though. The fact that they had no idea exactly where they were was beginning to make finding their way out frustratingly difficult. The tunnels kept splitting off into multiple directions; eventually Ron could see Moody was tiring. When they came to a large open area, Ron came to a halt, "Are you okay, Alastor?" "I'm fine, lad," he wheezed in reply. Ron knew he wasn't always the most observant wizard in the world, but he knew his companion was anything but fine, "We'll take a minute to rest anyway. I'm going to try and find out where to go next. With that he moved over to a lamp that was hanging from the wall; its oil was obviously running out as the light had almost faded to nothing, but it was enough work with. Placing the Death Eater's wand on his outstretched palm, he whispered the Four-Point Spell Harry had taught him, and watched as the wand spun round slowly and settled into position. Before he could motion Moody to follow, shouts and the sound of running feet could be heard from the direction they had just come. Looking in horror at Moody, he gulped, and without looking to check he was following, Ron spun round and started to sprint. Thankfully, he could hear the sound of Moody running behind him. The distinctive clunk of the Auror's false leg echoed each time it landed. Ron slowed slightly to allow him to keep up. Moody had nearly caught up with Ron when he stumbled over a rock, crashing to the ground with a grunt. As Ron spun round to see what had happened, a curse whizzed past his nose, causing him to sway as leaned back in shock. "Shit! Shit! Shit! What now?" As Ron, dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding another curse, Moody grabbed him by the ears, forcing Ron to look him in the eyes, "We fight our way out, lad. You still have that wand, don't you?" Ron nodded his head as much as the old Auror's' grip would allow, "Right then. We are right where we need to be; these tunnels are too narrow for them to slip past us. So we will always know where they are, whilst of course, we could be just about anywhere. Now when I say 'Now', fire off as many curses as you can, and then head for that large rock over there; we can take cover behind that." Ron looked over to where Moody had suggested, and swallowed hard - just what had he landed them both in - that 'large rock' looked no bigger than one of the school's Bludgers! He couldn't see how they were both going to hide behind it and stay hidden. He soon found out that was not the plan. As soon as Ron had made it to the rock, Moody was off to the next one. For some time they edged their way along the tunnels in this way, managing to keep a fair distance between them and their pursuers. That didn't stop the Death Eaters shouting exactly what was in store for them once they were caught. Just as Ron stood up to make a move to the next rock, Moody yelled, "Weasley! Down, NOW!" The suddenness of Moody's yell and instinct caused Ron to drop to the floor with a sickening crack as he landed and rolled away just in time to see a burst of green light strike the wall where he had been crouched not seconds earlier. As he brought his hand up to wipe some grit from his eyes, he also brought with it the remains of the wand he had been carrying, "Shit! We're bolluxed now, Moody," The Auror's expression was unreadable in the almost darkness of the mine. "Nothing we can do about it now lad," Moody whispered urgently, "Let's just keep moving." Once again they started the slow and painful process of edging their way up the mine's passages, only this time they were not able to keep their pursuers from catching up. It didn't help that Moody had now slowed to a crawl, his tired and tortured body unable to propel him any faster. As they rounded the next corner, the first tendrils of a breeze could be felt. "I see you felt it too, lad. We must be nearing the surface at last. Hopefully then we can get out of this hell-hole." Before Ron could respond, a volley of curses struck the roof of the passage one after the other, a relentless barrage; each shot came so quickly, Ron was unable to count them. "What the f-" Ron was unable to finish as Moody pushed himself to his feet, "Not now, lad! Run for it!" Ron found himself unable to move; he watched in horror as the reason for his companion's panic became apparent. Bits of the roof started to crumble and fall down, bouncing on the floor as they landed. One struck his head, knocking him out of his trance, and he was running alongside Moody and starting to move ahead of him, though he tried not to get too far in front. Suddenly an almighty crash made him turn around, and he watched in horror as the mine roof gave way. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched the tunnel implode. As he backed away, his foot caught, and he tumbled to the floor. Scrambling backwards, away from the dust and falling debris, he saw the first rock, strike Moody on the back, sending him to the floor with a startled grunt. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ron screamed, though he knew it was too late. ~*~ As the dust settled, Ron wiped the dust and tears from his eyes - even though he hadn't even noticed he had been crying. - Then made his way gingerly over the fallen rocks to where Alastor Moody lay half buried by the rocks that had collapsed on top of him. Tentatively placing his hand to the Auror's neck, he sighed in relief when he felt a very faint pulse. Looking round he could see there was no way though the rubble, not that he would want to go that way, but at least it gave him time to free Moody before the Death Eaters found them. Taking his time and carefully moving each stone one at a time so as not to disturb more of them, he was able to free him relatively quickly, and it was with a sigh of relief when he was able to pull the Auror a safe distance away from the rock-fall. Moving him must have awakened Moody, though his voice was weak and Ron had to lean right in he could just about make out what he was saying. "Good. You're safe," croaked Moody. "Well, for now anyway," replied Ron. "Now hush, and try and regain your strength, then we can get moving again that rock fall should-" Moody's hoarse croak stopped Ron from rambling, "Lad.... Ron... I'm not going anywhere..." "But." "Listen to me," Moody's voice was barely audible, "I can't move-" "You're just stiff," replied Ron, though he didn't really believe it. "Don't be so sodding stupid, boy!" Ron recoiled slightly at his friends tone of voice, "I've just had half this bloody place fall on top of me, not to mention Merlin knows how long of being down here." "But, Moody, if you could just hang on, maybe..." He knew it wasn't going to happen, but he just couldn't leave the old mad here to suffer whatever fate the Death Eaters dealt out. "Maybe, nothing, I can't go any further; I'm too old, too weak, and have more broken bones than I care to think about." "But, I can't just leave you here," "No, you can't." "Wha-" Ron was confused now, what was Moody on about? "I can't face them again Ron, not now..." "But..." Moody slowly raised his arms and grabbed hold of Ron's top, pulling him closer, "I can't face them again, go through that...." "I don't know what you want me to do, Alastor. Do you want me to stay?" "Sod that, no I want you to get your arse out of here as soon as you can, no point in both of us..." "Both of us, what?" Ron's mind was reeling; he just did not know what to do? Where to go? Where to go? --I wish Dad was here, thought Ron, or Harry, they would know what to do... Moody tried to speak, but ended up coughing, and retching, as he did spots of blood splattered Ron's hand. "Shit, Moody, what the hell is happening?" "Ron... As a friend I need you to do something for me..." "What?" Moody had a very strange look on his face, but the lack of light hid the details, so Ron had no inkling at all about what Moody said next." "I need you to put an end to it, Ron;" croaked Moody, "I need you to kill me." "WHAT?" Ron's cry echoed down the tunnel. "You heard me, now be quiet;" rasped Moody, "do you want them to know you're still here?" his voice trailed off in to a low guttural growl. "I can't do that," Ron was still shell-shocked from his friend's request. "You can," whispered Moody. "But how? I don't have a wand; it broke remember..." Ron knew he was clutching at straws, but he couldn't do what Moody was asking of him, could he? "There are ways without a wand..." Moody's voice trailed off, a look of fear in his eyes at what would happen if Ron couldn't find the strength. "Moody, you can't know what you're asking of me!" said Ron even though he knew he couldn't not grant the Auror's request. There was no way he could leave him to the Death Eaters' mercy - or lack of it - he cared too much to do that. But still it was a lot Moody was asking of him. Moody's simple rasping reply of, "Yes, I do." made Ron shudder at its implications. "Okay." Ron whispered. They spoke quickly and quietly as Moody gave instructions and news to be passed on to his friends and colleagues in the Order. When he tried to apologise to Ron for letting him down during the raid on the alley, it was all Ron could do to stop himself from hitting him; still he gave Moody an earful that his mother would have been shocked at. "Thank you; you're a good friend Ron." "'S okay" replied Ron, once again tears streaming down his face. "It's time." When Moody spoke, Ron could feel the blood drain from his face, and as he moved into position, he had to steady himself as his balance deserted him. As Ron moved his hand towards his friend's mouth, they locked eyes, and stayed that way until the end. The last word's Ron heard Alastor say were, "Take care, Ron." ~*~ Ron took a while to compose himself before closing Moody's eyes; then standing up, he whispered, "I will, Alastor. I will," before continuing the long trek out of the mines. He eventually came out in to an old house which sat on top of the mine's entrance. Stopping briefly, he could hear the raised voices of two Death Eaters arguing. He didn't listen to what they had to say though, figuring that he could slip past while they weren't taking any attention. He quickly left the building behind, taking care to use the various outbuildings to mask his progress. As he left the relative shelter of those buildings, fields spread out in front of him, slowly rising up the side of a small hill. If he could just get to the other side, he would at least be out of sight of the mine. The sight that greeted him as he reached the hill's crest took his breath away, and he had to steady himself on a nearby tree to keep from falling over. Wherever he was was obviously surrounded by water. Cursing Merlin as he went, Ron made his way down to the water's edge. Sitting on the shingles that lined the waters edge, he settled down to await his fate. Before long night fell, and it seemed ironic to him that what was likely to be his last night on earth should be so beautiful and clear. Bending down to splash some of the water on his face, he sighed - that felt good - he could feel the months of grime drip off, and the cold water made his skin tingle. Sighing once more, he lifted his head up and looked out to sea where he could see lights, a long string of lights. Carefully standing up, he strained his eyes to try and see better, but the months of darkness and the damage caused by Malfoy's torture made that difficult. But they were still lights, and lights like that meant land. If he could find somewhere to rest and hide for the night, he could make a swim for it tomorrow under the cover of darkness. After an hour's scouting along the edge of the beach, he came across a small outcrop of rocks jutting out from the hillside. Slipping through a gap, he knew he wouldn't have been able to manage before all this happened, he found himself in an enclosed space, just big enough to lie down in; he curled himself up. He was so tired that the moment he lay down he was asleep, and he stayed that way until the following night. From his years of Hogwarts Quidditch, he knew to warm up before attempting to swim across towards the lights. Seeing as it was already dark, he felt safe enough to do this on the small shingle beach. After spending some time trying to awaken muscles he was sure his body had forgotten he had, he walked out into the water without a look back at the hell-hole that had been his prison for nigh on three months. When he looked back later, he couldn't say where he had found the strength to make that swim. Hermione, who had made it her mission after his return to locate the place he had been kept, informed him that it was at least a mile, probably more, between the island and the mainland. All he knew as he made land was that he was safe, tired, and would soon be home. ~~~*~~~ The Damage Done As his younger self once again faded away, Ron gave an involuntary shudder as the walls of the mine once again closed round him. Fixing Moody with a stare, he took a deep breath before speaking, "Well, I'm certainly not going to bloody talk down here." Then without waiting for a response, he stood up and walked out of the mine. Taking his time to look around once he was outside, the buildings did look familiar, although a lot more ramshackle, than when he made his escape all those years ago. When Moody eventually found him, Ron was leaning against the a low stone wall, staring out over the fields where a low lying mist twisted itself round the few trees that were scattered throughout the landscape. "You okay, lad?" "Yeah," replied Ron, his shoulders dropping. "I'm sorry I made you do that lad," sighed Moody. "What? The memories?" replied Ron, "I can't say I have any idea how this place works, but I think I have to want to remember them. Otherwise... well, I mean that's the point, isn't it?" Ron was rambling he knew, but he couldn't think of how else to express himself. "No, lad, not the memories. That's not what I meant..." Mad-Eye, took a large gulp from his hip-flask, leaving the rest of his sentence unsaid. "Then what?" replied Ron, thoroughly confused. Ron watched his old friend as he waited for a reply, but Moody seemed unable to speak. Every time he seemed about to say something, he stopped himself, and seemed to sink further into the wall he was leaned against. A flicker of thought suddenly crossed Ron's mind and his eyes narrowed as he spoke, "Moody?" asked Ron in a low voice, "You aren't apologising for what you asked me to do, are you?" Although Moody didn't speak, his whole demeanour answered for him. It was unnerving, thought Ron, seeing the old man like this; it was so unlike the man who had fought against Dark Magic for most of his life. "Don't you dare, Alastor! Don't you dare say that," An all consuming anger coursed through Ron's body, as he continued to speak, "That was the single most difficult thing I have ever been asked to do! So don't you dare even hint that it was a mistake!" "That's not what I meant at all, Ron...." "Then what did you mean?" replied Ron as he folded his arms tightly across his chest. "I'm sorry that I made you do that Ron; I should have been stronger..." Ron sighed as his anger evaporated, "You couldn't have been any stronger, Alastor; I wouldn't have made it through all those months without your help." Taking a deep breath Ron continued, "Anyway, if I hadn't been so hot-headed and waited... or even talked to you..." Years of guilt were coming to the surface as Ron spoke, "But no. I acted without thinking, yet again, because of that you died..." Moody let rip with such a string of expletives that Ron was as equally impressed as he was mortified. When Moody eventually ran out of breath, Ron tried to speak. "Bu-" "I haven't finished with you yet, Weasley!" Moody continued but with a much gentler tone of voice, "If you hadn't seen the opportunity, we could have all died down there, I had been an Auror for nearly forty years, Ron, and I had given up; they had me beat. But you... you never gave up; I saw you every night with that broach; it was your anchor to the outside world; you drew your strength from it. And in the end, it was that strength that got us out of there." "But, I didn't get you out, did I?" "Yes you did, Ron. Have you learned nothing? You saved me from a fate worse than death. So yes you DID get me out of there. You need to believe that Ron." "I'm trying Alastor, but..." Trying to think of a way to get his message across, Moody fell silent for a time and the two of them watched the seagulls out at sea skim the water, fishing for their food. "Ron?" Moody continued to look out to sea as he spoke, "Do you know how many people I've counted as friends in my life..." "A few I reckon, you were a member of both the Orders..." "You can count them on one hand Ron." Taking no notice of Ron's look of surprise, Moody continued, "Less than five people I count as real friends, Ron. Yes there were lots of colleagues, people I respected a great deal, but they weren't friends, Not Albus, not the Longbottoms, not the Mckinnons, not even your father Ron, and there weren't many I respected more than him. But you, Ron, you are my friend. I couldn't have lasted as long as I did without your friendship and support. It was the strength you found in this place that did that, and it was that strength that you needed to help Harry at the end." As Ron took in his friend's words, he finally came to believe them, and turning to him, he took Moody's hand in his and shook it. "Thank you." Moody just nodded in reply and they both turned to watch the seagulls revelling in the freedom they had as they flew where they wanted and the grace they displayed as they dived towards the water. ~*~ a/n: As ever thanks to my beta Allie for this chapter, as well as my guest pre-beta Kelleypen who kindly put up with my appalling use of comma's throughout this chapter. Kelley made a comment about the 'shingle beach' Ron finds himself on. They are not uncommon throughout the UK and comprise of very small stones, you can view a photo here: http://www.batleys.org/images/Shingle%20Street%20Colour/fishermen.jpg
|