Title:  Days of Awe
Author:  Lorien_Eve
Pairing:  Harry/Ron
Rating:  PG-13
Genre:  Drama/Angst
Archive:  You’re more than welcome, just let me know!
Spoilers:  Just from OotP.
Disclaimer:  They’re all J.K. Rowling’s.  Sadly, not one of them belongs to me.  I promise, the books would have a much different rating if they did!
Feedback:  Yes, please!
Summary:  Harry and Ron are separated in a battle against an army of Death Eaters. Harry thinks Ron’s dead. Ron thinks Harry’s not coming back. They find consolation in other people and places. Lives are changed and loves are destroyed when they meet again.

Author’s notes: A huge thanks to Lena, who, only through dedication and a strong stomach, was able to beta some of the later chapters.

Warning: There are a few mentions of het sex. Again, it’s nothing graphic, but I thought you ought to know.

Man has places in his heart which do not yet exist, and into them enters suffering in order that they may have existence.
-Leon Bloy



Ron hadn’t seen or heard from Harry for almost five years.  At first he had remained expectant, hoping they would hear or find out something.  Surely, Harry wouldn’t stay gone for much longer.  He had family and friends here, and he had Ron, even though he didn’t know it. 

At last, Ron had his family move everything out of the flat. He couldn’t bear to go there himself.  They stored the things in the shed out in the garden, but Ron never went out there. It represented his past life – a life he didn’t want to forget about, but knew he had to. Mrs. Weasley left him alone for a while, but after months of watching him do nothing but mope around the house, she spoke up.

“Harry wouldn’t want to see you this way, Ron,” she had said.

“Apparently Harry doesn’t want to see me at all!” Ron hissed back.

“That’s not fair!  He thought you were dead—we all thought that.  He waited for days, but we never heard anything.”

Ron crossed his arms in a huff.  When he didn’t speak, Mrs. Weasley continued.

“You can’t stay in this house all day.  It’s not good for you.  You’ll feel better if you go out for a little bit.”

“The only thing that’ll make me feel better is Harry,” he said irritably.

“Ron, listen,” she said, pulling him by the elbows, “you’ve got to start over sometime.  The sooner the better.”

Ron turned on his heel and stomped upstairs.  He wouldn’t have admitted it to her, but what his mum said made sense.

Ron hadn’t gone back to work for several months after Harry left.  He wasn’t ready to see the vacant desk with the papers scattered on it, no doubt just the way Harry had left them before he joined Ron at that battle in Brighton.  Being an Auror had never appealed much to Ron.  He’d never really thought about what he was going to do after he left Hogwarts, although playing profession Quidditch sounded pretty good.  Once he heard Harry talking seriously about being an Auror, though, Ron decided that’s what he’d do, too.  Harry’s track record proved that he was more than capable of getting out of dodgy situations by himself, but Ron still felt that Harry needed someone to watch out for him and make sure he was okay.  So Ron had gone through years of training, and put in even more years as a full-fledged Auror, just so he could protect Harry. 

When he finally did go back to work, they stuck him with a desk job.  Moody didn’t think it was a good idea to have someone as hot headed and irrational as Ron out on the field.

“You’ll make mistakes,” Moody growled, “and it’ll be up to one of us to get you out of trouble.  We’re seriously lacking as it is.”

“That’s why you need me!”

“Not if you’re going to be a hindrance,” said Moody.

“I won’t be a hindrance.  I want to get out there and fight.”

”You’ll do us more good here than you will out there.”

“This is just paper pushing,” Ron argued.  “I’m a fully trained Auror.  I ought to be out on the field.”

“You’re staying here, and I won’t hear another word against it.”

Ron had known better than to keep arguing with him.  It wasn’t without reason that Moody was arguably the best Auror they had.  Ron had known him for years, but that didn’t stop him from being intimidated. 

They still needed Ron’s skills as an Auror, in things like strategizing, organizing, and listening for rumors.  He had taken over Harry’s duty with the map, pin pointing hot spots for Death Eaters.  It was a tedious job, and Ron only attempted it half-heartedly.  It was more of a labor of love.  He was months behind, and wondered if he’d ever get through the mounds of reports that piled up higher and higher each day.

He had been through a lot of changes since he had come back home, and none of them were favorable.  Most notably was his relationship with Hermione.  With Harry gone, and after her parents’ murder, Ron was the only person she could turn to.  He had grown closer to her, too, and often felt like she was the only one who truly understood his moods.  Every moment that she wasn’t teaching her class at Hogwarts, she spent at the Burrow.  She had changed so much, that had Ron not seen her everyday, he would’ve hardly recognized her.  Her quick wit was gone, and so was her dictatorial personality.  He would ask how her lessons were going and inquire about any trouble-making students, but she would always give him a quick answer, like she wasn’t interested in discussing it.  Not unlike him, she was quiet and reserved most of the time.

Ron’s relationship with Hermione had changed in more ways than one.  Because they had both lost so much, the only comfort they could give each other was physical.  Ron had never considered being with a girl before, much less Hermione.  In fact, he had never considered being with anyone but Harry.  But things had changed, and now Ron would look for any outlet for his loneliness.  He loved Hermione, sure; even more now than he had in school.  The sex was empty, though, and distant, but it helped take Ron’s mind off Harry, even for a little bit.  It helped Hermione forget, too, and since that was all Ron knew to do for her, that’s what he did.

Ron’s parents suspected something was going on between them, although it had taken awhile.  They seemed reluctant to accept it, not because they didn’t like Hermione, but because they knew that neither Ron nor Hermione were in a fit state to understand the consequences of their decisions.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were forced to come to terms with it at last, because it had become blatantly obvious and couldn’t be ignored anymore.  Mrs. Weasley was aghast that something like that was going on under her roof.  It wasn’t that she didn’t understand, she just didn’t think it was a wise choice.  She held her tongue, hoping that soon they’d come to their senses and handle things in a more responsible way.  It continued, though, and only seemed to get worse.  At last, she thought it was time to talk to them. 

She called them both down to the kitchen late one evening.  Mr. Weasley sat in a chair, twiddling his thumbs nervously, and Mrs. Weasley stood behind him, gripping the back of the chair until her knuckles were white.

She cleared her throat as Ron and Hermione sat down opposite them.

“Your father and I know what’s been going on between you two,” she started, “and we don’t think it’s appropriate, right, Arthur?”

She looked down at her husband, and he nodded silently, his eyes avoiding them both.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other briefly, but then lowered their heads and looked at their hands.  This was not the kind of conversation Ron wanted to have with his mum.

“I’ve tried to be patient and give you some space.  I know you’re both going through some really tough times.  I hate to have to do this, but as long as you’re both living in my house, I feel like I have to lay down some rules.”

She paused for a minute, studying them.  Neither one had raised their eyes yet, but she could tell by the attentive expressions on their faces that they were listening.

She continued, “Either it’s going to have to stop, or you’re going to have to get married.”

Ron’s head had been the first to shoot up, followed closely by Hermione’s.

“Mum, that’s ridiculous!  Hermione and I are both adults.”

“Yes, you are,” Mrs. Weasley said, “but as long as you’re both under my roof, I’m allowed to have my say.”

Ron’s first thought was moving back into the flat.  His mum wouldn’t be able to say anything then, and Hermione could stay with him without anyone complaining.  Almost as soon as the idea entered his head, though, it vanished.  He wasn’t going to bring Hermione into the home he had shared with Harry.  It wasn’t right to either one of them.  Harry’s image would still be too strong, and try as she might, Hermione would never be able to erase it.  He didn’t expect her to.  He looked over at her, but her face was impassive.

“I don’t know what I’ll do, Mum.  I’ll have to talk it over with Hermione,” he said at last.

“Very well, but you’re going to have to make a decision.  I’m not going to let you put it off,” Mrs. Weasley said sternly.

“Can we go now?” Ron asked roughly.

Mrs. Weasley nodded curtly, and Ron and Hermione went upstairs, back to Ron’s room.

He and Hermione talked for hours, analyzing the situation and weighing their options.  Ron really did care for Hermione, and her company was about the only thing that kept him from shutting himself up in his room and forgetting the world existed.  Hermione, too, relied on Ron for solace and companionship.  He was all she had.  Unfortunately, the consoling always led to one thing, as neither of them were in any fit condition to comfort the other.

Ron had all but given up on Harry.  At that time, he’d been gone for over three years, and whatever it was that kept him away must’ve been especially strong since he hadn’t bothered to contact any of them.  Living without Harry wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he had resigned himself to that long ago.  If Harry couldn’t be there, Hermione wasn’t bad to be with.  She identified with him better than anyone else since Harry had left.  They had been friends for over a decade now, and more than friends for over two years.  Surely, marriage wouldn’t be drastically different.

Hermione felt like she had no future to look forward to.  Harry and Ron had been her only best friends for as long as she could remember.  Harry was gone, but she still had Ron.  Ron was her last remaining link to the life she had enjoyed until just a couple of years ago.  She was spent emotionally, and had no desire to fall in love with anyone.  It took too much energy, and that was something she was certainly lacking in. She wasn’t in love with Ron, but she did love him.  It was close enough.

In the end, they had decided to take Mrs. Weasley’s advice.  Hermione gave up her lodgings at Hogwarts and moved all of her stuff into the Burrow.  It took Ron awhile to get accustomed to seeing feminine things lying around his room.  He had grown up with five brothers, after all.  Then he had lived with five guys at Hogwarts, and finally lived with Harry for all the years after that.  It had all looked strange to him, but he adapted himself, and soon he didn’t even notice it.

****

Ron came home after work in a terrible mood, as usual.  He didn’t mean to snap at his family, but he felt worthless, sitting at the desk all day.  Mrs. Weasley was at the stove cooking, and Hermione was sitting at the table, using her wand to chop carrots.  Mr. Weasley was staying late at the Ministry, finishing up a proposal on Muggle objects that had the potential to be magical.

“Hello, Ron, dear.  How was your day?” asked Mrs. Weasley.  She greeted him the same everyday.

“It was just like every other day, Mum,” he said darkly.

Hermione got up and gave him a hug, which he returned.  At least she knew better than to badger him with small talk.

“Did you have any more students dropping dungbombs in your class?” asked Ron, trying to laugh.

Hermione rolled her eyes.  “Not today.  I think having to arrange Professor Snape’s potion ingredients in alphabetical order taught them a lesson.”

Ron winced.  Hermione may have changed a lot, but when it came to rule breaking at school, she was tough to get around.

“Want any help with those carrots?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Mr. Weasley Apparated in the kitchen just as Mrs. Weasley was setting the table.  They ate quietly, talking about safe topics such as the weather and the latest Quidditch game.  Surprisingly, Hermione knew more about Quidditch than the rest of them.  She attended most of the matches at Hogwarts, and was always hearing the students talking about which player had signed with which national team.  The Ministry of Magic was a completely taboo subject.  If Ron had thought they were inept before, he thought it even more so now, since, in his mind, they wouldn’t let him do his job properly.

Hermione told Mrs. Weasley she would clean up after dinner, so Mr. and Mrs. Weasley retired to the living room.  Ron stayed in the kitchen with Hermione.  She whisked the dishes into the sink with her wand, where an invisible hand began washing them.  She sat down in Ron’s lap and put her arms around his neck.

“You okay?”

“Just like always,” he said, forcing a smile.

“None of us are okay these days, are we?” she said with a sigh.

“No, I suppose we’re not.”

“It’ll get better though, won’t it?”

“Let’s hope so,” he said, though there wasn’t any hope in his voice.

He pulled her close, and she tightened her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Suddenly, there was a soft popping sound, though Ron didn’t hear it.

Hermione gasped.  “Uh, Ron…”