Godric's Hollow - Chapter Twelve : Broken - H/R - PG-13
Title: Godric’s Hollow
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17

This is my Big Damn Table, turned into a multi-chaptered novella.

One hundred stories inspired by Broke Back Mountain.

Ron looks back on his life with and without Harry.


Chapter Twelve : Broken

Broken
The summer had been excellent; Harry and I had got away for a few days, Hermione was making a breakthrough with her anti-werewolf-prejudice legislation at work and was exhausted and excited.

That September, Alex finally started school, so she and Teddy were thrilled, and he was going to show her everything.

Harry put his three on the train and was suddenly alone. I mean, he was thrilled with them – Di was Head Girl and Philip was on the Quidditch team and he was as proud as anything.

But he hadn’t been alone since Ginny brought him home to us twenty years ago.

I hadn’t asked him how he intended filling his days, but I toyed with the idea of working part-time and having some time alone with him.

Which is, of course, when things went wrong.

Not between me and Harry.

With my dad.

Lizzie and Annie took the baby over to see him one day and found him on the floor.

They flooed Harry immediately and he rushed over to the Burrow to take care of him.

And that’s what he did.

Dad had had a stroke and St Mungo’s couldn’t do anything for him, so we brought him home and Harry moved in to take care of him.

The brothers and I had tried to take come up with some other solution, until Harry had lost his temper. “I thought I was family?” he shouted. “I’m at home all day, why shouldn’t I be the one to look after him?”


Fixed
He lingered until the spring, he regained a little speech and we all visited as much as possible.

Little Arthur’s first steps were towards him and everyone cried.

But Weasleys en masse are a noisy bunch, and soon he’d send us home.

“Want Ron,” he’d say. “Ron and Harry not noisy.”

And Weasleys would kiss his cheek and tumble through the fire and I’d give him a filthy look and say, “Stop fixing us up, Dad,” and he’d laugh silently.

I tried helping Harry with him, but Dad wouldn’t let me; he got quite stroppy if someone other than Harry tried to bathe or dress him, hating this reminder of the ‘Circle of Life Crap’, as Harry explained it.

“He doesn’t want strangers, Ron, and I’m family, but he never changed my nappies, so it doesn’t upset him.”

“I can understand that, I guess,” I admitted. “And thank you for doing this.”

“And he likes to tease me about stuff,” Harry added.

“Like what?”

“Like how much I enjoy naked Weasleys.”

“He doesn’t,” I moaned. “Oh, Harry!”

“I don’t mind,” Harry said. “There isn’t much he can laugh about, anymore. I can take a bit of teasing about freckled bollocks.”

“Christ!” I shook my head. “D’you ever wish I hadn’t wandered into your compartment on the train, Harry?”

“Never,” he said firmly, leaning in for a kiss.


Light
I was at work when Harry flooed me to come straight to the Burrow.

Dad had had another stroke and this time would be it.

I was the first to get there and Harry and I held each other for a moment before the fire whooshed and the rest of the family flooded into the kitchen.

We went up to Dad’s room and I sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand and squeezed it.

But he didn’t squeeze back.

His breathing was harsh in the silence.

And it was the quietest a room full of Weasleys had ever been.

We stood around the bed, listening as the breaths became further apart; watching as the light left his eyes.


Dark
Harry had been standing close behind me, his hands on my shoulders, and, as tears pricked my eyes, I ached to turn and fall into his arms.

And then Hermione was there, falling to her knees and throwing her arms around me, and Harry started turning away. Hermione made an angry and impatient noise in her throat as she grabbed him and pulled him into the hug.

So, as my dad moved on, into the darkness, I sat with my arms around my wife and my lover and thought of how Dad had wanted me to move on as well.


Shade
So Harry moved back home and we all tried to move on.

He was out a lot, that summer, leaving Di to keep an eye on the younger kids and he wouldn’t tell me where he went.

Finally, with the kids – just the four youngest now, God, where did the time go – packed off on the Hogwart’s Express, we went for a drink and he told me what he’d been doing.

Looking much more serious than the occasion warranted – or than I hoped the occasion warranted.

“I’ve got a job,” he said, suddenly, and I paused with my drink half way to my lips.

Well, he’d been at home for eleven years, I suppose it made sense for him to find something, now that the kids were at school.

“That’s a good idea,” I said. “Don’t want you to just sit at home, eating chocolates and getting flabby.”

He snorted.

“You could have said something earlier,” I pointed out.

“I wanted to find the right thing. I’ve been looking for months.”

“And?” I prompted, wondering why I’d never heard any rumour, anywhere, about Harry Potter job hunting.

“I’ve been looking in the Muggle world,” he said tentatively.

Oh, well, that explained it, I suppose.

“I mean,” he went on, looking very earnest. “I can afford not to work, but I’d be bored. And there’s no point in just getting some nine to five job I hate, and I’m not really qualified for anything, and I’m not going to trade on the Chosen One crap. I just wanted to do something where I can help; make a difference.”

He bit his lip.

“Go on,” I said.

“I’m going to be working in a hospice,” he said. “I think I really made a difference to your dad’s last months. I told them I had no qualifications, but I’d nursed my father-in-law. I can help the whole family through this, Ron. The hospice can’t afford to pay much, so they don’t usually get fit and healthy and youngish men working there – there is so much I can do!” His face shone.

“I think that’s brilliant,” I said.

“Really?”

“Of course, really.” I hugged him and kissed his temple. “We’d never have got through the last year without you, Harry.”

“And, don’t get grumpy with me, but this is the first thing I’ve ever done on my own, you know? It’s a bit scary, but I think it’d do me good to be out of your shadow.”

“My shadow?” I boggled.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “You and your family took me in – and you know how much that means to me, Ron – and you taught me everything I know about living as a wizard. But, finally, I’m going to do something separate, something for me.”

“My shadow?” Yeah, I was still stuck on that.

“Ron?” he asked, frowning.

“Do you know how long I’ve felt I was in your shadow?” I asked.

“What?”

“It was never easy being friends with the Boy Who Lived, Harry.” He frowned. “Not you,” I explained. “Him. He casts a long shadow, you know.”

“Ron,” he tutted. “You can be such an idiot. As if the Boy Who Lived crap was ever a fraction as important as what you’ve done for me.”