Ron sighed and slumped down on the sofa at home. He just felt useless of worrying about his mother. What was wrong with her? Would Ginny figure out what was wrong before anything worse happened? He was on hiatus from Quidditch for a bit until scrimmaging began, so he really had nothing else to do but worry. He spent most of the last couple days at the clinic waiting with his family. It was times like these that Ron regretted his choice to make a career out of Quidditch. Why didn't he choose something useful, a healer like Ginny, or something with medical research? He knew he wasn't really any good at any of that, but he could have tried. He could have been a hell of a lot more helpful to his mum.

He looked up as Susan walked in with a sad gaze. A full week had gone by and still nothing.

Seeing the defeated expression on her boyfriend's face, Susan sighed internally. She hated coming home with nothing new to report, nothing to bring a smile to Ron's face. As she sank into the space beside him, Susan rested her head on his shoulder. "How are you holding up?" she asked, twining her fingers with his.

Ron shook his head. "Alright, I suppose. I just feel useless at home here. Even more useless everyday at the clinic, but I want to be close by if anything happens. What time are you going in tomorrow? I'll probably just head in with you." He had hardly spent any time with his mother in the past year, and now, when she was sick, he was with her everyday. He felt like an idiot for letting sickness be the reason he took the time to show up.

"I'll head in about seven." Her face softened as she put together the rest of what she wanted to say. Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys and their loved ones, had been at Mrs. Weasley's bedside almost non-stop. They were justifiably worried, but it wasn't doing any of them any good to sit and stare, feeling useless as Ron said. There had to be a break from it once in awhile. "Maybe you could get together with Harry?" Susan suggested, watching his reaction. "It might do you some good to relax with a friend for a little while. Your mum wouldn't want life to come to a stop for her. The healers are doing everything they can; it's okay to take a break."

Ron thought about it a little, "Maybe. Still. I don't want to miss anything while I'm off taking a break." He looked over at Susan, "You sure she didn't say anything about this to any of you besides Nott? It just seems wrong that she would go through something like this and not tell us." He'd probably asked Susan this about five times already and the answer hadn't changed. Mum hadn't told them anything. He knew why she hadn't, it was just frustrating to get an owl saying something had happened, when it was something that she had known about for some time.

"I wouldn't have kept something like that from you." He knew that, she'd said it before. Susan understood why he kept asking, though. It had to be hard to be blindsided with something like this. She remembered when they'd found out about her Aunt Amelia's death, messily done at Voldemort's hands. In a way, what Ron was going through was harder. Waiting. Never knowing what news you might get. "And you know I'd owl you immediately if there were any change."

He nodded. Getting up from the sofa, he sighed again. "I need some air. Think I'm going to go have a ride on my broom, try to clear my head."

A sad smile on her face, Susan murmured, "Alright." She knew flying was an escape for Ron, but it was hard to have him leave so soon after she'd come home. They hadn't spent much time together as a couple lately. The stress of everything that was going on was an understandable distraction, and she certainly didn't begrudge him the focus on his mother, but Susan missed her boyfriend. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Ron said as he turned and headed out of the house, grabbing his broom by the door. He apparated quickly and was soon at one of his favored flying spots, the cliffs at Anvil Point. He walked to the edge and positioned himself on his broom before pushing off the cliff, taking flight as he started to fall. He pulled up, angling his broom around to circle back and fly along the edge of the cliffs.

He loved the air whooshing all around him, it really helped clear his head, let him lose all the negative thoughts he'd been having about his mother. He'd been flying by himself at night a lot lately, ever since he'd gotten the owl from Ginny. When he was in the air, for those few moments, everything was okay. At least, it had been. The last couple nights, as his mother lay in that bed longer and longer, just flying wasn't enough. He'd begun to thrill seek a bit. Everything he could think of, from dives to twists and turns.

Tonight he'd do the same.

Gaining more speed, Ron spun a few times, ducking low enough to skate across the water with his feet. His heart beating a little faster, Ron flew faster and faster. He went in the direction of the cliffs again, cutting a hard left to narrowly miss crashing into it head on. Chuckling nervously a bit, as that had been pretty close, he rose above the ground and took a few minutes to explore the trees above.

His thoughts slowly drifted back to his family. What if she does die? He didn't think he could bear not seeing her again, not talking to her. Especially when he couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to her. And what would his dad do without her? He couldn't imagine him alone, not after a lifetime of seeing the two of them side by side. Wasn't the loss of one family member enough? George was taken from them far too soon, it wasn't fair.

Thinking about George, Ron's eyes moistened. He shook his head. This was not what he was out here for. He wanted to get away from these thoughts. He jerked his broom up, getting higher and higher into the air. All of a sudden he angled downward and, leaning into the broom, headed straight for the ground in a Wronski Feint.

Pulling up a moment too late, his broom slid into the ground, pitching him forward. Shouting as he landed on his arm, he rolled to a stop. Breathing deeply, he gingerly felt his arm. From what he could tell, he'd snapped it. He sighed angrily at himself. He shouldn't have done the stupid stunt. He grasped his wand in his good hand went to pick up his broom, before seeing it had snapped in two.

"Son of a bitch."

Using his wand to repair the mostly clean break, he fumbled for a few moments until he had his broom tucked under his good arm, his wand in his hand as his injured arm was tucked close to his chest. He apparated to Healing Hands, knowing Ginny would still be there. He entered the wards and walked inside, setting his broom against the wall in the waiting area. He tucked his wand in his pocket and went in search of Ginny, cradling his arm.

"No, I'm not hungr-" Ginny's gaze faltered as she realized it wasn't Neville in the doorway, trying to force a sandwich on her. She stood, moving around her desk, eyebrows furrowing as she noticed the way he was holding his arm. "What'd you do?" It was an assumption, but usually when it came to her brothers, her gut reactions tended to be right.

Ron tried to smile, his expression twinged with pain. "I landed wrong." His arm was throbbing at this point and he couldn't really explain what happened any better. He felt so idiotic, doing that trick in the dark, without any practice. "Can you fix it?"

Ginny rose an eyebrow at him, making it clear that she thought his question rather stupid and that she wanted an explanation a little longer than he'd given her. Nodding her head, she moved past him into exam room two, the light flicking on with a wave of her wand. She used it to point to the table, watching as he moved and took a seat. "Landed wrong, hm?"

"Yeah," he said grunting as he hopped up on the table and his arm flared in pain. "I... er ... tripped over a rock when I landed. Was too dark to see it." It sounded believable to him. It could happen. He winced when she took his arm and started examining it. He always hated breaking bones, it was so painful and the Skele-gro she was bound to make him take never left a good taste in his mouth.

"You know, you're probably the only Weasley who didn't learn how to lie properly," Ginny said, shaking her head as she shut the door and advanced on him, wand drawn. The slight flicker of alarm in his eyes was satisfying. Luckily, she'd only really needed to hex her brothers once to prove that she had the power to make it painful, should they push her that far. The fact that they still remembered the lesson meant it'd worked the way she'd wanted it to.

Casting a charm, she peered down at the cradled arm, looking at it from several angles. "It looks to be a clean break, no splintering of the bone or fragments missing. You're lucky."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I can lie properly. And I wasn't lying. My landing was off." He looked at his arm, he couldn't tell one way or the other if it were a clean break or not. Looked the same to him. "Doesn't feel like a clean break. Feels horrible." He shifted on the table.

"Would you like to do the healing as well?" was the quick retort as Ginny took a step back, hand on her hip, face clouding. She looked at him for three very long seconds, glaring at him with far more anger than was needed, or called for. She realized what she was doing, shaking her head as her posture slackened, her shoulders falling. "'m sorry. I'm just tired."

Ron stilled when she stared him down, unsure of how to proceed. When she apologized, he relaxed a little. "Well, maybe you should take a break tonight and get some sleep. I'm sure you still have that cot in your office, so you don't need to go home to sleep, you can sleep there." He felt bad for making her help him when their mother lay in the other room, waiting for her to figure out what was wrong.

"I know. I've been trying," she said, lying, though fairly sure she could do it better than he could, and hopefully he knew better than to call her on it.

She moved to a cabinet against the wall, pulling out the bottle of Skele-gro. Holding it up, Ginny rose an eyebrow. "I can do it this way, or this way," she said, raising her wand. "They're both going to hurt, but at least you don't have to taste anything if I use my wand."

Ron nodded at the wand. "The tasteless option is best, I think. I think the last time I took it I tasted it for hours afterward." He turned a tiny bit green at the thought. "It was awful." He braced himself against the table he was sitting on, gripping the edge tight and waited for her to start.

Nodding, knowing from personal experience that this wasn't going to be pleasant, she lifted her wand and touched it lightly against his arm. Whispering the words, voice dropping an octave in pitch as she recited the spell she'd done so many times prior, she saw the flash of red light against his skin, knew the burning that would accompany the heal.

Ron clenched his teeth and tried his best to keep his arm still, it wasn't easy. As his bone fused back together it burned, something that was
quite uncomfortable. The burning stopped after a while, but he knew his arm would be sore at least for the next couple days. He shook his arm out, trying to become a little more comfortable with it.

"Thanks, Gin."

"You don't want to do anything that could further the injury. The muscles aren't going to want to be tested. No tripping over rocks or throwing yourself against them, alright?" Her voice was tired now that she knew he was alright. It was such a little thing to heal it almost made her sick. She could heal bones, fuse parts of bodies back together, fix some of the worst wounds she could think of, yet her mother still laid still in a bed down the hall.

"Okay," Ron said, getting up from his seat. He stood in silence for a moment. It was a bit awkward, the both of them thinking about their mother, worrying about her but not talking about it. He knew she was tearing herself up for her inability to find the cure, no matter how hard it must be to find. She probably stayed up all night every night since the coma began, it was apparent in her appearance.

Awkwardly, Ron stepped forward and put his arms around her, drawing her in for a hug.

Though she and Ron were the closest in age, they had never been particularly close, despite sharing so many of the same friends. Ginny loved her brother, like she loved all her brothers, but he was not especially known for his displays of affection when love-potion laced chocolates weren't a part of the equation.

Slowly, her arms rose to wrap around his middle, squeezing him back.

"You'll find it, I know you will. You're brilliant." Ron squeezed one last time and pulled back. "I'm here for anything you might need, you just let me know."

Ginny just nodded, not trusting her voice right that second. Turning her back to him, she swiped the back of a hand across her eyes as she grabbed his chart from the counter. "Now," she began, turning back to him with slightly damp cheeks but a small smile, "did you want me to bill you for this, or just send it on home with Susan when I see her next?"

"Can I pay now? I kinda don't want Susan to know about it. She'll give me one of those looks and it'll turn into one of those talks and I'd rather not." He shrugged, "It's not that big a deal, so why should we make it one?" He didn't want Susan to worry about him anymore than she probably did.

Rolling her eyes, she reached out and slapped him on the arm with his chart. "As if I'd actually charge you. Merlin."

"What? How was I supposed to know you were joking?" Ron said, taking a step back to avoid any further assaults with the chart. "I better get back anyway. Susan's probably still up waiting for me." He hesitantly stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks again, Gin. I'll be back tomorrow, say, around eleven?"

"Sounds good."

Summary: Ron is having a tough time dealing with Molly's sickness. After talking with Susan, he goes flying to clear his head and ends up seeing Ginny.