Words Fail Me

Sight and Sound

Thump, thump, thump!

Percy Weasley opened the front door and froze on the spot and stared at his baby brother almost as if he was frightened of him.

"What are you doing here?" he said uneasily as he leaned out the front door and glanced up and down the street, "Are you on your own?"

Ron huffed and pulled a note from his pocket and held it out to him. Percy took the note and read it, his face fell as he read and he folded the note again and looked back at Ron who stepped aside from the front door and gestured for Percy to come with him.

"Um look Ron, I never made mother any promises about today and I don't think anyone's ready for a big family get together just yet are we?"

Ron huffed again and plunged his hand into his pocket to pull out the little notepad he carried with him at all times and began to scribble something hurriedly. Percy felt that familiar pang of hurt inside his chest as he waited for Ron to finish writing. He would give anything in the world to hear his brother shouting at him right now. He'd give anything not to have to remind himself every few seconds not to stare at his brother's ugly scar. He'd give everything to be able to just talk to Ron again.

Ron held the pad out for Percy to read.

Mum's waiting for you and I am not going to go back without you and make her cry you arse! Get a grip and put on your cloak, you're coming to dinner whether you like it or not.

Percy felt uncomfortable and knew that dinner with a family who hated him could only end in tears for his mother. She wouldn't let up on him though; she never gave up hope that things could get back the way they were before. Percy had burned too many bridges though. He had hurt his parents and his brothers and sister wouldn't ever forget it. He had his own forgiveness issues to deal with as well. He couldn't look Harry Potter in the eye and keep from boiling with fury at what he had done. How was it Harry had robbed Ron of his ability to talk and almost killed him in the process yet was forgiven instantly while Percy had only ever wanted to look after Ron and Ginny and was now a pompous arse who wasn't worthy of their sympathy?

He reached out to take the pad and pencil from Ron's hand to write a reply. Ron snatched it away from him. He glared at his brother, the only one of his brothers who had no idea how to have a conversation with him these days, and flicked back to the first page of the pad where the bold letters spelled out exactly how Percy had just put his foot in it this time.

You don't have to write on the bloody pad! I'm not fucking DEAF!

He thrust the declaration under Percy's nose and his brother flushed in the face and looked deeply ashamed of himself.

"I-I-I...Ron, I'm so sorry, of course you can talk to me...I mean hear me talk to you."

Ron shook his head and Percy knew he was swearing inside his head. Ron heard footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see an elderly couple smiling and nodding to Percy as they passed by. It was Percy's very respectable neighbours; they were both very high up in the Ministry before they retired.

"Good afternoon Mr Weasley," the old wizard said before his eyes darted over to Ron's face and then down to his throat, "Oh my word you're Ronald aren't you?"

Percy hated that people knew Ron on sight now. He hated why they knew his face and why they would always look to his scar before looking into his eyes just the same way they always did when they met Harry Potter. The old witch gasped and stared at Ron's throat while Ron turned and scowled at Percy for putting him in this position at all.

"Oh young man I read all about you in the Prophet. What that awful man did to you," the elderly wizard shook his head and his wife gave Ron a pitying look.

Percy had to act now, Ron looked about ready to blow.

"Um well my brother's just coming to pick me up actually," Percy said as he reached out and grabbed Ron by the shoulder and pulled him inside the flat with a gracious smile at his neighbours, "we're going to meet my family for Sunday lunch."

"Oh isn't that nice for you son?" the old man said with a condescending smile as he looked at Ron in that way he was all too familiar with by now, "I expect you need your brother more than ever now don't you boy?"

Ron was glaring at the old man and his ears were burning bright crimson as the man's wife looked suddenly stricken and her pity grew even more intense.

"Oh of course you poor thing, you can't floo anymore can you?"

Ron turned and gave Percy a hard stare. He got the message immediately and began to close the front door on the two of them.

"We've really got to go now, sorry," Percy smiled graciously.

"Oh but are you sure you can manage him on your own?" the old man was calling as the door clicked shut.

Percy turned to see Ron storming down the hall into the kitchen where he slammed the note pad down onto the kitchen table and began to write furiously. He wrote with such anger that the pencil ripped through the paper and Percy knew that he had to go to the Burrow now otherwise have the whole family descend upon him for putting his brother in such a foul mood.

"Ron, I'm coming okay? Let's get to the Burrow and just forget about those two...Let's just forget about them alright?"

Ron tore the page from his note pad and tossed it upon the table before pulling out his wand and searching for something in Percy's kitchen. Percy picked up the ragged piece of paper and read it.

I'll tell mum you're busy. Thanks for putting those old bastards in their place Perce; it means so much to me that you don't just stand by while people treat me like a retard!

"Ron don't be like that," Percy said as Ron flicked his wand at a butterbeer bottle and created the portkey non-verbally, "They're set in their ways. To folk like that losing your vocal chords is like losing the ability to do magic altogether. They didn't mean anything by it."

Ron extended his arm over the butterbeer bottle and met Percy's eyes.

"Can I come with you Ronald?" Percy asked him nervously.

Ron shrugged and hesitated over the portkey. Percy stepped forward and held his own hand over the bottle.

"So shall I count to three?" Percy asked and immediately knew that he had done the wrong thing.

Ron's eyes widened and his finger thrust into his own chest before doing some kind of rapid movement with his fingers and looking as if he was about to punch Percy.

"I'm sorry Ron I don't understand..." Percy said as he looked down at his feet shamefacedly.

Ron's hand banged down upon the kitchen table and Percy jumped and make an involuntary yelping sound. Ron made another hand signal that he didn't understand before counting to three on his fingers and the two of them grabbed the portkey and were transported into the back yard of the Burrow.

Ron tossed the bottle to one side and walked into the house without even glancing at Percy. Hermione jumped to her feet and immediately knew that something was wrong. Fred was swearing and storming over to the door where Percy had just stepped inside.

"What did you do you prat?" he demanded as George stood at his side and folded his arms with a similar expression of anger.

"I..." Percy began before looking across to Ron who was signing something furiously to Hermione while Ginny was watching and looking livid as she read the signs for herself, "...he was saying something, trying to say something to me but I don't understand sign language."

"Well learn!" Ginny bellowed as she stomped over to shove the twins out of the way, "You let those old duffers talk to him like that? Talk at him like he was a moron?"

"I...he...they..." Percy wanted to apparate back home and never see his family again.

Fred's eyes were almost bulging out of his head now and he repeated his question.

"What did you do?"

"Percy!" their mother exclaimed with joy as she entered the kitchen and dashed over to embrace he prodigal son, "Oh lovely I knew you wouldn't be able to refuse Ron if he asked you to come."

"Only because he doesn't know how to speak retard!" George hissed and the kitchen fell silent.

It was as if everybody who had ever been in that kitchen over the years had collectively gasped and sucked the atmosphere out of the room. Percy wondered who was going to die first, him or George, and stood rigid as a board while his mother's face grew pale and then brilliant red at an alarming speed.

"What did you just say?" their mother said with a shaking voice that was barely under control as she struggled to keep her volume to a reasonable level.

George cowered and tried to communicate to his mother that it wasn't him she should be erupting at, he didn't think Ron was retarded.

"You don't know what happened mum," Ginny said as she pushed her way between George and her mother, "Percy's neighbours were treating Ron like a bloody novelty and Percy just stood by and let them."

"Ginny," their mother was shaking visibly now and still staring at George, "this has nothing to do with you, keep out of it. I want to hear your brother explain himself to me. I want to hear him justify using that word to me."

Percy was still too much of a sore spot with the family and no matter how much his mother wanted a reconciliation he couldn't see it happening. The twins were just plain unforgiving. Ginny was too defensive over how he had treated her parents and Harry and Ron over the years. Bill and Charlie were disgusted at Percy's lack of interest when they had sent owls to tell him of their father's near fatal attack by the snake, Ron and Ginny being hospitalised after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, and again when Ron had almost died on his seventeenth birthday. Then when he had appeared to see Ron when he was recovering from the injury that rendered him speechless Percy had been vocal about blaming Harry for what had happened. Ron hadn't been able to forgive him for that.

Harry was sitting in the corner and sharing a pained look with Hermione, he had only recently been discharged from St Mungo's himself after Ron and Hermione had talked him out of his guilt complex and allowed himself to heal emotionally as well as physically, while Percy's father grabbed his wife and tried to calm her down.

"Now Molly you know George didn't mean it the way it sounded. He would never call Ron anything of the sort, this is all just a misunderstanding isn't it?"

Then it happened, the Molly Weasley explosion of rage that sent Fred, Ginny and her husband almost running for cover.

"I don't care who called Ron what, that word is never to be used in my house, in my presence, in my life ever!" George was averting his eyes as his mother turned from his face to Percy's, "I know you can't understand sign language Percy but that isn't Ron's fault is it? You could have come sooner and learnt with the rest of us." she turned back on George again, "Percy is a polite young man who doesn't scream at random people for being ignorant about how to treat your brother," again she spun to screech into Percy's face again, "I thought better of you than this Percy I really did. I didn't think you would care about appearances so much that you would stand by and let strangers..."

CRASH!

Something made an almighty smashing sound on the ceramic tile of the kitchen floor and Percy saw his mother turn around along with everybody else to see the fragments of one of her best china plates scattering across the floor while Ron glared at the small gathering in the doorway and summoned another plate into his hand and raised it warningly.

"Ronnie no!" his mother pleaded, "That's my best china. That's my wedding china!"

Ron stood with the plate raised for a second before crossing the kitchen and thrusting the plate into his mother's hands. He began to sign something that made his mother's eyes water. Just as she reached out for him he stepped away from her and pushed past Percy to go back outside. Hermione ran after him and Ginny tried to follow but Harry grabbed her hand and held her back at his side.

"What did he just say?" Percy asked, feeling as if he was the only person who didn't know why his mother was now crying on George's shoulder.

"Ron just told us that there's one thing worse than somebody calling him retarded and that's a whole afternoon being ruined by people getting angry about it on his behalf," Ginny said as she stared at Percy with unblinking eyes.

"I didn't call him...they didn't either, we wouldn't have. I would never, I assure you. They were just old and tactless that's all mother," Percy tried to explain.

"Percy come all the way inside so I can close the door will you?" his father said before guiding his mother into a chair beside Bill.

Percy stepped further into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. He looked around the room, Charlie was silently seething at him and Fleur was trying not to meet anybody's eyes at all. Finally let his eyes rest upon George.

"I don't suppose you can teach me how to say I'm sorry in sign language can you?" Percy asked him, attempting to let his brother know he wanted nothing more than to be able to tell Ron that he was sorry for what had happened.

George shook his head and walked away, leaving Fred to scowl his reply before doing the same.

"You just have to say it Percy. Ron isn't deaf."

Bugger, how can I keep forgetting that?

Hermione found him sitting by the frozen pond and shivering. She sat down beside him and looked straight ahead without a word. She knew if she just left him to simmer he'd soon cool down and then start bothering her about coming after him without a coat on in this weather.

She was right.

Ron nudged her with his elbow and pointed at her before rubbing his own arms briskly.

"And you won't?" Hermione smiled in response to his statement that she would freeze.

Ron smiled briefly before his face morphed into a scowl and he put his hand on his chest, his fingers splayed and a look of genuine disgust as he moved his palm away from his chest and gestured over his shoulder back to the house.

"You don't hate him," Hermione sighed as she linked her arm with Ron's and rested her head upon his shoulder.

Ron nodded before shivering as an icy breeze rustled through the bare trees and right through their clothing.

"Come on Ron, back inside," Hermione said as she got back to her feet and tried to pull him up with her, "I'm freezing and I'm not going back in there without you so get up."

Ron sighed and tapped the side of his head with his thumb before getting to his feet and lowering his head and rubbing his knuckles on his chest. He was apologising to her, she smiled and hugged him closely. The steam billowed from their nostrils in a white cloud before they set off for the Burrow again.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about something by the way," Hermione began nonchalantly as they strolled back, treading in their original footprints leading away from the Burrow, "I've really got it into me to follow up that suggestion of Neville's and join him on the healer training program."

Ron looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

"Yes," she nodded, "I think that what Neville's doing in the mind damage area is so wonderful that I thought I could look into specialising in a neglected field just like he has done."

Ron pointed at Hermione and rubbed his fist down the side of his upper arm.

"Not a general healer no, I want to be researching ways to prevent permanent damage when there are magical solutions but no time to implement them."

Hermione knew that Ron was onto her right away and he stopped in his tracks and folded his arms across his chest with something of an amused look on his face. She laughed and was glad that he hadn't taken this badly, he really could have done, and trudged back through the disturbed snow towards him to stand on tip toes and kiss him on his cool lips.

"It's just like what happened to Moody's eye and leg isn't it?" she smiled while Ron broke into a broad smile now and nodded sarcastically, "and you alright?"

Ron put his arm around her and they both continued on their way towards the warmth of the Burrow again.

"Well there was a choice wasn't there Ron? It's possible to repair damaged vocal chords with magic just like it's possible to repair a damaged eye but there's only a brief window in which a healer can do it. Your throat was slashed open Ron and the choice was save your life over save your voice and that was the right call, no doubt about it, but maybe there would be a way that future instances like yours could be helped outside that tiny window. Maybe I could research ways to re-grow complex tissue and muscle after some hours rather than minutes."

Ron pointed at himself and then at his head before pointing at Hermione and rubbing his hands together. Then he rubbed his fist against his upper arm and she felt warm all over. Ron had just told her that she would make a wonderful healer. She squeezed his cold hand with her own and realised that he was able to be so much more open and affectionate with her through his nonverbal communication than he ever had been when he had his voice. She still missed it though. Every tone, every word he'd never say, and the deep vibration his speech used to cause in his chest when she rested her head upon it.

And as ever she missed the laughter. If she could spare just one other person from ever being denied the sound of their loved one's laughter she would indeed be a wonderful healer. She didn't need to cure an incurable disease. She didn't have any desire to discover an undiscovered potion or spell to change the lives of witches and wizards the world over. All she needed to do was give back light to blind eyes and laughter to silent lips and birdsong to deaf ears.

She would go to St Mungo's and sign-up first thing in the morning.

The sky was as bright as it could be through the grey clouds that hung low over the Cumbrian landscape. The fine drizzle made the view from the window nothing but a blur and the nursing staff were doing their daily rounds while the patients watched the television or gazed idly outside at the murky green hills and the dark woodland area in the valley some way away.

One patient wasn't looking anywhere other than into space however.

"Jess dear, hold out your hand I've got your medication for you," one of the nurses said as the blind girl reached out to take the two small pills that were placed into her open palm.

The nurses were a rarity in the magical world. It wasn't often that those witches and wizards who had an interest in healing would chose to pursue the muggle way of treatment. It was incredibly impractical after all, and almost always useless when it came to spell damage, but as far as the Cumbrian rehabilitation clinic was concerned their knowledge of both magical and muggle healing was invaluable. It was at this clinic that those witches and wizards who were physically and mentally traumatised by abuses of magic could heal and adjust back into magical society.

Some never would of course. Some patients would heal and then integrate themselves into muggle society, leaving the wizarding world behind for good, and Jess would probably be one of them. She had an understandable fear of the power that had led to her becoming a target. The power she had that others wanted enough to blind her and torture her to control for their own ends.

The nurse watched as Jess' eyes began to close and nodded to one of the porters waiting with a wheelchair to come and take her to her room for a nap.

It was then that it happened.

The screaming seemed to rattle right through the bones of everyone around her while Jess' knees were drawn up to her chest and her hands clutched her head, her face scrunched up in pain. She was having another vision.

"It's alright Jess. Just let it pass, don't fight it, ride it out and it'll all be over sooner," the nurse was saying while the clinic's porter struggled to hold her jerking body still so she wouldn't hurt herself, "Just let it come and go without a fight, that's it, good girl."

Jess's body loosened up and she relaxed in the porter's arms, panting and sweating while tears rolled down her face and the nurse snapped her fingers at another of her colleagues to get a calming medicine brought to her immediately.

"It's over now, a nice short one wasn't it? Don't worry everything's fine, you're still in the day room with all of us and everything's fine."

The therapist ran from his room to crouch before Jess and take her shaking hands in his.

"Jess it's me, do you want to talk about your vision before you take the sedative?"

"Alan I really don't think now is the time to pester the poor girl for her predictions," the nurse protested but the therapist waved his hand at her as if she was a bothersome fly buzzing about his head.

"Now Jess, is this the same vision as before or is this something new?" he said in a kind but determined tone of voice.

"New," Jess trembled as she wiped her bloodshot eyes with the back of her hand.

Jess was a strange looking young woman. She stumped in chairs in the same way a sack of potatoes would slump against a wall. She was never one for good posture even when she had her sight. Her sight in itself was always pretty poor according to her father. She used to wear glasses with the thickest lenses you could imagine before she was captured and blinded for life. Her life had been a very poor joke and then become an awfully cruel one in such a short space of time. She was a short-sighted seer who was now a totally blind seer. She used to call the wing of the clinic where she would go for treatment the cruel ironies ward. She was a fairly heavyset young woman and her eyelids were always half closed, making her look permanently sleepy. While not fat or ugly in any way she was a unique looking girl and had got used to a fairly lonely life.

"Jess do you want to talk to me about it now, your medicine is here for you otherwise," her therapist was saying as he lifted the hand he was holding up to clasp it around the small glass that was being handed to her.

Jess gripped the glass and brought it to her lips, pushing back the insane curly mess that was her long brown hair away from her tear streaked face, before she hesitated and turned her head to where she guessed her therapist was crouching in front of her.

"It was a man, young, he had red hair and he was burning."

The nurse put a hand onto Jess' shoulder and gave a squeeze of reassurance to let her know she didn't have to talk about it if she didn't want to.

"It's okay nurse Stour," Jess sniffed before continuing, "It was like his skin was on fire, a white hot fire burning through his flesh, and a powerful witch was rising up out of the flames and screaming but she wasn't making any noise. This witch was swallowed up by the white flames and then..." Jess shook her head, "...then it was over."

The therapist rubbed Jess' arm and smiled up at her, even though she couldn't see him doing so, and got to his feet again.

"Well take your medicine and get some sleep now eh?" he said warmly.

Jess drank her medicine down in one and looked revolted momentarily before the porter wheeled her away to her room. Nurse Stour turned to look at the therapist and folded her arms while casting an accusatory glance his way.

"What is it now nurse?" the therapist huffed with a roll of his eyes.

"It's nothing really," nurse Stour said coolly, "I was just wondering if you talk about her personal life and her feelings with half as much interest as you talk about her visions that's all."

"Her visions are disturbing her and it's better for her to let them out rather than keep them in. You must agree with me on that nurse."

"Oh I do agree sir. I just don't agree that every other aspect of her mental recovery is being neglected just so you can publish a medical journal on seers that's all. Jess is not a guinea pig for you to study, she is a patient who needs you and I think that maybe we should find her some kind of alternative mental therapy."

"Oh you do do you?" the therapist asked with his own arms folded across his chest now and drawing himself up to his full height, which wasn't that much taller than nurse Stour really, "Well I'm afraid it's not up to you to take her off my service nurse. That is for the medical administrator to do and he..."

"...Just announced his retirement and offered the job to me," Nurse Stour completed the sentence while the therapist's face fell.

"What?"

"You heard me. Now I will let you continue your treatment with Jess until I find a replacement and as soon as that happens I'm taking all of our, let's say, interesting patients away from you."

"This isn't fair Stour, I'm working on ways to help these people," the therapist protested while Nurse Stour turned on her heel and walked away.

"You're helping them by using their case notes in medical books that make you a fortune are you?"

The therapist had no answer and Nurse Stour didn't wait around for one anyway. The clinic was peaceful for another three hours after that. The silence was only broken by the rain hammering against the windowpanes and Jess screaming from her room for somebody to help the poor young man who was burning.