Deception Hurts More Than Death

Ron returned home after three weeks of holiday. He has traveled around from a few places picking up a few Quidditch matches. Neville had been right. His holiday had helped with his madness and helped get his mind right. He had time to think about Harry and Hermione, and decided to forgive them. He imagined if he was in their places. He would have done the same thing, if it was true love, nothing would have stopped him. Either way he lost Hermione, he would have left her if she had told him and he lost her when she couldn't. At least this way she had a moment of happiness being with Harry before she died. And if anything, Ron wanted her to be happy whether it was with him or not.

He walked into his house, the stuffy air hit him in his face. He walked around and opened a few windows and sat on the couch. This was the first time in a long time he enjoyed being home. The windows opened, the drapes drawn, light coming in, it seemed like home again. He made a cup of tea and settled onto the couch and turned on the tellie. Harry had gotten him addicted to it, especially a Muggle sport called Cricket. Ron flipped the channels, finding nothing to watch. He glanced down and saw the copy of The Daily Prophet still on the floor. He got up and threw it in the rubbish bin in the kitchen.

As he walked back to the couch he glanced down the hall and saw the office door. He suddenly felt a tightness in his chest. Despite his forgiveness and his full circle recovery he felt compelled to go in there again. He walked down the hall and opened the door slowly. He glanced in the dark room, surprised it was so dark. He expected to see the blue glow of the pensieve, but found no light but that which was coming from the hall. He entered it fully and found the desk empty, the pensieve gone.

He tore into the office, searching everywhere. He looked under the desk, he tore the desk drawers out and onto the floor. He searched the bookshelves that lined the walls. Throwing books from one end of the office to the other until he had to wade through the floor of books. Ron wondered who would come to his house while he was gone? The only people who knew the wards were Ginny, Harry and Hermione. Seeing that two were dead he rushed to his fireplace.

Ginny jumped back against her kitchen counter as she heard her floo burst to life. Not expecting anyone she became slightly frightened. She slowly walked towards the living room but a familiar voice soothed her nerves.


"Ginny, are you home?" Ron yelled from the front room. Ginny came around the corner and saw him by the floo.

"Ron, you startled me. I didn't know you were back yet." Ginny said, walking to Ron and giving him a hug. Ron tore away from her, looking crazy.


"Did you come to my house while I was gone?" Ron practically yelled.


"No, why would I?" Ginny asked, quite scared by Ron's behavior.


"Something is missing and you are the only one left that knows how to remove the wards. So if it's gone, who else could have taken it?" Ron grabbed Ginny shoulder shaking her slightly. She pulled away, fear in her eyes.


"You're going mad! What is missing?" Ginny yelled back.

"Hermione's pensieve." Ron yelled, instantly hating himself for revealing it.

"She had a pensieve? Why are you so frantic about?" Ron looked to the ground, knowing what was coming. "Ronald Weasley! Please tell me you didn't look in it?" When Ron remained looking to the ground Ginny continued. "How dare you intrude on her privacy, husband or not! Is that why you locked yourself away in your house?"


"You can't tell me if you found a pensieve Harry hid from you, you wouldn't take a peak?" Ron paced the living room, not liking her lecture.

"No, I wouldn't. I would respect the fact he didn't want me to know about it. What did you find that has made you so crazy?" Ron contemplated whether to tell her. Should he make her hurt like he did?

"Just some old stuff from school and the hunt. Little things like that. But I got to see her alive, and it was nice." Ron collapsed on the couch, realizing another reason he was so attached to the memories. As much as they hurt to watch he was able to see Hermione alive.

"I know it's hard, Ron. I would give anything to see Harry alive again. But living in her pensieve isn't good. You'll never be able to move on. I don't know how it disappeared, but maybe it's a good thing." Ginny sat next to Ron, placing her hand on his leg. Ron placed his large hand over hers.

"Maybe you're right. I have been going mad these last few weeks. The only time I felt sane was on holiday, without the pensieve. Sorry I lashed on you." Ron smiled to Ginny.

"I was about to make some supper. Would you like to stay?" Ginny asked, knowing Ron never turned down food. Ron nodded and followed her into the kitchen.

Dinner was nice and quiet. They talked briefly, remembering fun things from years past. They shared a few laughs and enjoyed the company. Ron left shortly afterward, choosing to walk part of the way for the fresh air.

When he arrived home he headed for the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. He laid on his bed, his towel around his waist and nodded off to sleep. He took an hour kip and awoke with a jump. He had a dream about imagining the whole scenario with the pensieve. In his grief he had locked himself away and became delusional. He had become trapped in the imaginary pensieve, forever being forced to watch Harry and Hermione make love in his delusional state.


Ron dressed in sweats and headed for the office. He had a lot of cleaning up to do. As he walked he had wished his dream was true, and he had imagined it all. He wished it was all a nightmare, but, alas, it wasn’t. Seeing the look on Ginny’s face when he shook her chilled him to the bone. He truly had gone mad about the whole pensieve thing, and felt like an idiot. Ginny was right, he was better off without it, he thought.


He reached down and began picking up books and papers that were strewn across the floor. He picked up a book on dragons and a small scrap of paper fell from the top. It slowly fell to the floor in an elegant matter and Ron recognized it at once. He picked it up, examining the strange word. He bit his lip and threw it aside. He truly was going mad to even think it.


A hundred books later and half of the room was cleared. When he bent down to pick up another handful of mess, the title of a book caught his eye, “Rare and Unusual Plants.’ Ron picked it up, thumbing through the pages. Hey bit his lip again, concentrating on the empty space beyond the end of the book. He thumbed through the index and went quickly to a designated page. He searched the page for what he was looking for, ‘Philimenathia.’ The page was decorated by small, medieval art that depicted people sleeping. Before reading a word Ron exhaled, assuming he knew what it would say. He continued to the text and read.