Gamble Everything for Love

[eruditefics]

Title: Gamble Everything For Love
Author: EruditeFics
Pairings: R/Hr, H/G, George/Angelina
Chapter: If you're free
Rating: R now NC-17 later
Word Count: 3621
Warnings: Strong sexual content later. Little violence and Language now.
Summary: Ron Weasley's composure hangs by a thread after the final battle. When it breaks, what else will be broken?
Notes: This fic will be a few chapters long, so post questions by all means, but remember, some will be answered in later chapters. I would love to discuss Ron's characterization, as it did open up a good discussion with my Beta.


Chapter 1

If You're Free

Gamble everything for love, gamble everything

Put it in a place you keep what you need

You can gamble everything for love if you’re free

You gotta gamble everything for love
-Ben Lee

Hermione let out a contented sigh as Ron’s hand found the small of her back and guided her through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley. She stole a glance in his direction and let her lips stretch into a smile at the look of his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. When they arrived at the door of the Leaky Cauldron, he turned to face her and she bravely reached up to brush the hair from his eyes.

“It’s been weeks since the end of the war, Ron. When are you going to cut your hair?” Hermione said, smiling at how close his body had gotten to hers.

“It’s symbolic!” he exclaimed.

“Symbolic of what?” she asked, amused.

“We were on our mission for so long, no showers, barely any food, and no haircuts. It was awful…well you know…and cutting my hair kind of makes it permanent, says that it’s really done and that everyone’s really gone,” Ron said, shifting about and looking at some invisible spot above her head rather than into her eyes.

“Oh,” was all Hermione could answer in the moment. They all still had wounds, and Ron was no exception. She ran her thumb down his cheek and signaled that they should go inside. Ron stopped her, wrapping his large hands around her shoulders.

“Tell you what, you can cut my hair when we get home tonight. It is getting annoying,” he finished while flipping his hair back melodramatically.

Hermione followed Ron into the pub in a daze, questions invading her mind: Did he plan on spending the night with her? Where was ‘home’? She had been staying with her parents, enjoying her renewed time with them. Harry had finally left the Burrow, much to Mrs. Weasley’s chagrin, and was working on opening up Grimmauld Place. Ron split his time between the Burrow and George’s flat, helping him at the shop.

After sharing a small space for so long, they were suddenly sleeping so far from each other. The feeling was still foreign to her. Lonely.

She and Ron hadn’t kissed again since the day of the battle, but they were close, they saw each other every day, and were often found standing very close together or holding hands. It was slow going, but having all the time in the world was bliss to Hermione.

“Hermione? Hello!” Hermione snapped out of her daze of questions about what he meant by ‘all night’ and ‘home’ as Ron waved his hand in front of her face, a smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth.

“I see Dean already has a booth. Do you mind getting me a firewhisky while I say hello?” Ron asked, sliding her a galleon. “Get whatever you want too,” he said, gently kissing her cheek before bounding off toward Dean and Seamus.

Normally, she would protest about him spending his money on her when she had plenty of her own, but he was so proud of having his own income that she couldn’t reject his offer. Lunch, dessert, quills, and even books were just a few things he showered on her. Her reluctance to allow him to spend his galleons on her was too placated by his proud smile and joyful affection to protest.

Hermione tried to get the barmaid’s attention, but resigned herself to waiting as the hassled looking woman took order after order from the crowded bar.

“Buy you a drink, love?” An unfamiliar voice rang out behind her. She turned to see a ruddy-faced man, probably in his thirties, struggling to maintain his balance has he grinned menacingly at her and licked his lips.

“That’s very kind, but I’m here with someone,” she replied, quickly turning away from him as the barmaid finally acknowledge her. “Yes. I’ll have two firewhiskies,” Hermione smiled, leaving Ron’s galleon on the counter. The barmaid handed Hermione the drinks and change, and she was counting out a small tip when the unpleasant man she had just turned down crashed into her, mumbling, “bitch” before ordering his drinks.

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. The drinks Hermione was holding spilled all over her lovely new blouse, and she shrieked and jumped back away from the rude man. Then, there was a roar and a loud crash. Hermione looked up to see Ron’s fist flying at the man who had just bumped into her.

Shouting erupted around Hermione as patrons of the bar circled to watch what appeared to be a drunken brawl. Hermione struggled to get through, to call for Ron, to do anything, but the throng of onlookers held her tightly in place. She could hear the sicken thud of flesh hitting flesh over the chaos, and her stomach turned in fear.

Thankfully, Dean and Seamus were fighting their way through, and Hermione grabbed the back of Dean’s robes to get through the crowd.

Hermione’s breath got caught and her heart stopped in fear as the sight slowly unfolded before her. Ron was leaning over the older man, clutching his robes. The man’s face was covered in blood as Ron relentlessly pummeled him. Ron’s entire body was shaking, his face clouded over in rage. Hermione closed her eyes as he raised his fist again, but to her immense relief, Dean and Seamus grabbed his arms and pulled a struggling Ron back.

Ron froze and turned around; he met Hermione’s eyes, now dripping with unbidden tears. His rage melted, and his face screwed up in pain as his deep blue eyes penetrated hers. She reached a tentative hand toward him, but he vanished before her anxious brown eyes.

Hermione was drawn back to the crowd now, all of whom seemed to be shouting with anger that the offender had escaped. The ruddy-faced man remained still on the floor. Seamus was shouting back angrily at the group of drunken onlookers while Dean’s hands fluttered nervously over the injured man. Hermione pushed back the image of Ron’s anguished face and sat down next to his now unconscious victim. She struggled to concentrate on the healing spells she knew over the volume of the angry mob, but her hands were shaking too quickly. A loud bang brought everyone’s attention back to the bar as the barmaid climbed atop a stool to speak. When she cast ‘sonorus’ , She turned and Hermione gasped again. There was Hannah Abbot, her Hufflepuff classmate, donning an apron and addressing the crowd.

“This is a private matter, and I will not have you lot behaving like monkeys in my Gran’s bar! Out!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing loudly around the pub. There was a groan of protest. Hannah flicked her wand and every door in the building slammed open. “Now!”

Hermione watched as the bar quickly emptied, shrinking away from the dirty looks given her by some of the wizards, and jumping at Seamus’ instant threats to all of those who dared look at his friends sideways. With the new peace, Hermione was able to quickly heal all of the man’s wounds. His pulse and breath were normal, but he remained unconscious.

“Thank you, Hannah,” she said, turning her watery eyes up to the barmaid.

“Don’t worry about it, Hermione. Just take care of Ron,” she smiled kindly, rubbing Hermione’s shoulders. Hermione’s small hope fell as she realized she did not know where he had gone. He wouldn’t go to the Burrow, at least not in his present state. Dean sat on the dirty floor next to her, looking to her for the next step.

“Why hasn’t Harry shown up yet?” she asked, anxiety seeping through her skin.

“He flooed me to say that he and Ginny had decided to stay at Grimmauld for the evening. Something about alone time,” Dean explained, blushing.

“Wish you would get the same ideas,” Seamus mumbled, getting up to pick up the knocked over bar stools.

Hermione shook her head quickly, too concerned to wonder at Seamus’ comment.

“Dean? Can you and Seamus make sure this man is okay, and that everything is…um…wrapped up…legally?” Hermione asked, struck by the sudden inspiration to go seek help from Harry.

Dean nodded as Hermione Apparated away before he or Seamus could ask a single question.

***********************************************

The joy and desire rising in Ginny Weasley’s chest gave her a warm contentment as heat pooled between her legs. Harry’s smooth lips were gliding along her jaw and down her neck; one hand gripping her face firmly while the other was intertwined in her long hair. As the hand that had been cupping her face slid around her, then up the back of her shirt, she couldn’t suppress a throaty moan. The electricity of his touch surged powerfully through her.

This display of affection was a welcome change in Harry’s behavior from the past few weeks. She had stood awkwardly by his side as Harry tied up loose ends after the war, their only physical contact coming when he held and comforted her in her grief. He spoke at Remus and Tonks’ memorial; he spoke at Colin Creevy’s as well. Harry accepted Order of Merlin awards posthumously given to Snape, Remus, Tonks, Colin, and even the goblin Griphook. He felt it was his duty to speak for all of them.

Ginny had kept herself busy by helping with repairs to Hogwarts, working at the shop while George grieved, and fighting off the press from gaining access to Harry.

Needless to say, romance had been shoved to the back burner…and the burner was off…and they were nowhere near the kitchen.

So, Ginny was overwhelmed to say the least when Harry led her into his master suite at Grimmauld Place, which she found to be transformed with red and gold drapes hanging from the walls, beautiful artwork invading her eyes. Her senses tingled at the sight of a large golden bed with red pillows, a roaring fire, and candles that flickered on every surface. She began to kiss him immediately, too anxious for his touch, too full of love at the sight of his wide green eyes. They tumbled to the golden bed in an instant, reveling in hands and lips, pruned to love and lust by a year of fear and doubt.

Now, she sighed heavily as he moved from her jaw to her neck again, whispering declarations of unending love for her. Tonight they were cut off form the world and drowning in each other. Tonight would be the beginning of new memories…finally.

A loud crash in the sitting room deflated the anticipatory mood of their romantic evening immediately. Ginny and Harry grabbed their wands and moved slowly down the hall. Directly underneath them, another loud crash rang out. Harry put a hand on her shoulder to stop Ginny from taking the stairs to the sitting room.

Harry wordlessly cast a spell making a clear window appear in the floor to look at the room below. They gasped at what they saw.

Ron was raging in the room below, throwing furniture and any other heavy object he could get his hands on. Form her view above him, Ginny could see blood on his hands and arms, and as he let out an anguished groan, she ran to him, too concerned to worry for her safety. Besides, her brother would never hurt her, no matter how upset he was.

She got to the first floor just as he hurled a crystal vase at the wall.

“Arresto Momentum” she shrieked, causing Ron to turn around immediately. The look on his face went from rage, to panic, and on to deflated as Harry joined Ginny in the sitting room doorway.

“Harry! I swear I’ll repair this. I didn’t mean to ruin your things,” Ron said quickly, looking sadly into his eyes.

“That’s okay mate. I’ll take care of it,” Harry said carefully. “What happened?”

“I just can’t take it! I can’t take the screaming! I hear it all the time,” Ron exclaimed, flopping onto the couch and putting his head in his hands. Ginny immediately knew what he meant and rushed to his side, pulling Ron into her arms.

“It’s okay, Ron. We’re all okay,” She soothed. Harry caught her eye over the top of Ron’s head and gave her a bewildered look.

“I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t get here,” Ron whispered miserably into her shoulder, his voice choking painfully in his throat like the words were razors.

“Let’s go upstairs to your old room and get you washed up,” she said to Ron. He stood up, already a little calmer, and walked slowly up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Harry whispered frantically.

“Just wait here. I think Hermione might show up shortly,” Ginny answered, rushing up the stairs to aid her ailing and broken brother. She followed him into the room, closed the door, and warmed the pitcher of water sitting on the end table.

Ron stood there silently, a shell of himself, as Ginny summoned a cloth from the adjoining bathroom. She sat him on the bed, unsurprised that he didn’t struggle against her small hands. In the heavy silence, Ginny breathed slowly, watching the small cuts on his face and hands, following the streaks of latent tears through the blood under his eyes.

“Every time I close my eyes, I can see those damn stone walls. I can see my fists pounding on them…I can hear her…she’s screaming,” he said, anger coursing between his clenched teeth as Ginny ended her ministrations. Pain seemed to dictate his every move. He stood and began pacing maddeningly throughout the room.

A gear seemed to click in Ginny’s head. She remembered the night Harry tearfully recounted Hermione’s ordeal, and how she had held him in his anguish as Harry clung to her for support. Ginny’s heart clenched at the memory, and she felt her lips quiver involuntarily. Even though she wasn’t there that night, every time the memory came to her, she longed to hold her dear friend tight and tell her everything was fine. Harry had Ginny there for him to confide his fears and hurt in, but Ron couldn’t do that with Hermione. Ginny knew the situation was too much to relive. She moved to her brother and put her delicate fingers gently on his broad, bony shoulders.

“A bloke … shoved her … knocked our drinks on her…” Ron stammered.

“…And you just got scared and snapped?” Ginny replied.

Ron nodded slowly.

“Ron, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Harry: You did all you could. You guys made it out. All three of you were so brave, and you made it out. Hermione doesn’t hold it against you. She’s not that girl,” Ginny said, gripping him firmly and forcing him to look into her eyes by the sheer force of her words.

“I know she doesn’t, but I do. She should have never gone through that. I couldn’t help her. I just stayed cooped up and had to listen to her dying!” Ron was shouting now, gripping his hair tightly. After a choked sob, he stared at Ginny in shock and immediately made his face stone.

“Oh no you fucking don’t, Ronald Weasley! Don’t you hide back in that shell? It’s what got you in this mess in the first place,” Ginny said firmly, pointing her finger at his chest. Her face softened at his shocked expression. “You never have to hide the darkness from me. I will always be a shoulder for you. I love you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his thin waist.

“Thanks, Gin,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. His chest rose and fell in deep breaths as he took a moment to compose himself. He kissed the top of her head, pulled away, and flopped down on the bed. Ginny got up to go back to Harry, but paused at the door. She knew he needed time to sort his own head out, now that it wasn’t so clouded.

“You know, I bet Hermione would be a great shoulder too, and may need one herself,” she said quietly, making her way out the room and down the stairs as another pained sob echoed from Ron.

****************************************************

“Harry, please! What’s going on!”? Hermione desperately pleaded, standing in the middle of Grimmauld Place’s destroyed sitting room.

Harry was just as confused as she was, but at the panicked look on her face, he decided to try to calm her with the truth.

“I’m honestly not sure, Hermione,” he started, standing up so he could look her in the eye. “Ron came here, busted some things up, and then Ginny dragged him upstairs. He looked hysterical. What happened?”

“One minute, I was getting drinks, and the next minute he’s flogging some unruly and rude gentleman’s face into a pulp,” Hermione exclaimed, running her hands through her hair.

“I don’t get it. He’s been fine. He was a bit off about Fred, but that’s to be expected,” Harry said, beginning to flick his wand around the room, repairing Ron’s path of destruction.

“He just snapped,” Hermione said meekly, echoing his actions on the other side of the room.

“Leave it to her to want to work in her emotional distress,” Harry thought silently.

As Hermione was recounting the moments leading up to the confrontation, a moment of realization dawned on Harry. Hermione had screamed, and Ron snapped. It suddenly made sense. In the next moment, Harry realized that Hermione didn’t know what Ron was still going through. Hell, Harry only knew what he could glean from the cries in Ron’s sleep. This wasn’t his business to discuss, and in truth, he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Harry cast a silent ‘Reparo’ on a broken chair. “Yeah, that is a bit troubling. I hope he’s okay.”

“Harry. There’s something you’re not…”

“C’mon Harry, let’s go,” Ginny interrupted, entering the room and pulling Harry away. “Ron’s upstairs, Hermione.”

“Is Ron alright?”? Harry asked, but Ginny just Apparated away, leaving Hermione puzzled in the middle of a freshly repaired room.
********************************************************

Ron sat on the bed contemplating his next move. First, he had to find Hermione and apologize, but his blood ran cold at the thought of having to make Hermione think about what had happened to her at Malfoy Manor. He shuddered at the thought of reminding her of how he had let her down. Throughout their time in the forest and beyond, after that night, Ron wasn’t too focused on her torture. He was focused on getting Harry to the end, and bringing Hermione there alive…no matter what. The mission filled his head with planning and strategy, and gave him an amount of adrenaline he was scarcely used to. Now, however, his mind was free to wonder…to dwell…on the things that he could have prevented.

In the past few weeks, Ron had been happier than he thought he should be, gifted with the chance to hold Hermione’s hand and kiss her cheek. However, he felt that he wasn’t worth it, and that thought tortured him. He felt guilty to be so happy in grief, and even guiltier to know she had counted on him and he had let her down…over and over again. Ron was hanging by a thread, and he had come crashing down tonight.

He sat up form his prone position and clenched his bruised fists. He knew he could not run and hide from all of this. He wanted to make it up to her somehow … he had to.

As if his mind had called to her, he heard Hermione on the stairs. “Ron? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah-

Suddenly, everything in the house went black, each candle extinguished, and each light burnt out. Before he could utter ‘lumos’, Hermione screamed.

He leapt from his bed and ran into the hall. Ron felt something hard smash into his shoulder and push him back, slamming him against he wall. A sharp pain rippled through is head as his feet fell out from under him.

“Ron!” Hermione screamed out in the darkness just before he saw a light come from her wand and illuminate her face. She had a large cut above her eyes and blood was dripping like tears down her cheeks. She reached out a hand and helped him up.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“Reducto!” Ron shouted at an offending shadow, and something fell hard against the ancient wooden floor. He felt Hermione place her hands on his face, and she looked into his eyes, her big eyes shining in the light of her wand.

“Oh ‘Mione! I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, pulling her to his chest. Just then, there were two loud ‘pops’.

“Yaxley! You never came back! Where’s Potter?” One man yelled, then he met Ron’s eyes.

“Levicorpus!” Hermione yelled, and the man was hoisted into the air and dropped on his head. Ron pulled them both down to dodge the retaliatory spell from the other Death Eater.

“Expelliarmus!” yelled a woman from the dark end of the hall. Ron’s wand flew past his fingertips. He pushed Hermione behind his back and pressed them against the wall. Three masked figures surrounded them. Ron had no hope left, but he kept pressed against Hermione, hoping he could at least be a shield.

“Incarcerous!” shouted the woman, but as the ropes came form her wand, a shield interfered.

Ron was too shocked to act immediately, but one second of deliberation led him to pull Hermione quickly toward their wands.

Something sliced through the muscles on Ron’s calf and he fell, screaming, to the floor, Hermione tripping over him.

Suddenly, her warm weight was torn from atop Ron’s body. He turned to reach for her, only to receive another blow to the head.

Everything faded into darkness.

AN: Well guys! Here's installment numero uno. I know where I'm going with this, but no hints. Just stay tuned and review if you feel compelled to do so! I think this story will be about 5 chapters and revolve around the lyrics I have begun.