A/N: I've decided to move all of these into one story. This is the latest one I've written, so I hope that you all enjoy it. It would probably be best if you read the other two chapters/stories before this one. This one is written two years after Ron's death, and it's from Harry's POV once again. Please review it!

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or places. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Colin, the rest of the Weasleys, Parvati, Neville, Snape, Trelawney, Dumbledore, Madame Pince, Flitwick, Voldemort, Lily Potter, and anyone else mentioned in this story all belong to J.K. Rowling sadly...


It's raining right now. I don't know if you can tell that or not since I don't know anything at all about the after-life or whatever you want to call it. But anyway, it's raining- now you know.

Wow, this is a bit harder than I expected. It's weird, you know, because I don't even know for sure that you can hear me. Honestly, I feel sort of dumb. But Hermione told me that she does this a lot, and we both know that if Hermione does it then it can't actually be dumb, now can it?

Okay, I'm rambling now. If you were here, you'd say, "Shut up, Harry! And get to the bloody point!"

So, okay. I'll try and get on with the point. The only trouble is that I'm not entirely sure what the point is...

I just know that I need to talk to you, Ron. I need to talk to you so badly. This is the closest I'll ever get, though, so I suppose it will have to do. I wish you could talk back with me; you have no idea what I'd give if I could just have one more conversation with you. There're so many things that I needed to say that I never did, and now I'll never get the chance to. At least not face to face anyway.

So, I'll do it like this.

You know what? Two years ago, I wouldn't have had the balls to tell you any of this. But two years ago I was a child. So much has changed since then. God, I don't even know where to start. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've grown up in the two years since you... since you died.

Yes, I'm still as short as I ever was. Go ahead and laugh it up. You could still double me as a bludger like you always joked about. But that's not what I'm talking about.

I've matured. Sometimes I feel like such an old man, but then I have to tell myself that I'm only twenty years old. Only I don't think twenty is supposed to feel this ancient.

Do you remember back when we first started Divination? Do you remember how we used to sit in the Common Room for hours on end making up all these tragic predictions for ourselves? Wasn't it fun? I mean, sure, we had a lot to be afraid of back then- Voldemort, Dementors, Death Eaters, Snape... Not to mention all the other things that were equally as terrifying- Trelawney's constant death omens, McGonagall's wrath, the constant threat of being turned into a canary when all we wanted was a bit of a sweet, Mrs. Norris, Hermione's unquestionable scolding when she'd notice we weren't doing our homework properly... Yes, we had a lot to deal with. But it was fun, wasn't it? I mean, real, honest to God fun.

But things just aren't fun anymore.

You'd think that with the fall of the Dark Side, life would be pure grandness, now wouldn't you? And I suppose that for many people it is. But to me, it's just waking up each day and doing the same thing that I did the day before. The thrill of catching the Death Eaters passed a long time ago, and now when I go to work, I just always feel... I don't know... sad.

I feel sad because I know that you would love my job. I remember the first time Mad-Eye Moody (well, the fake one, anyway) told me I should be an Auror. It had seemed so fascinating at the time, and I started dreaming about what it would be like to actually go out there and do it. That same year, you mentioned wanting to be an Auror, too, for the first time. We were practicing the Stunning Charm- well, I was practicing, and you were being my target. You said that one day all of us- you, me, and Hermione- would all be Aurors. And after that, I started dreaming about what it would be like to go to work every day with my best friends- how much fun it would be. It was like right then, in fourth year, I just knew that the three of us would be together forever.

Best friends for life, as Hermione once said...

Well, I guess she was right in a way. It's just that life wasn't supposed to end at the age of eighteen. I swear to God, Ron, it was never supposed to be like this. And I swear that I never meant for it to happen. None of us were supposed to die, and if one of us was destined to, I never considered the fact that it wouldn't be me. I mean, you had so much more to live for than I did.

Namely Hermione.

You two had each other, and I had no one like that. If anything at all were fair, the two of you would still have each other. I'll never understand why Fate works the way it does... I don't know why it had rip you away from Hermione like that; what did she ever do to deserve that?

She's getting on alright, I suppose. I mean, obviously she has days that are better than others, but that's to be expected, right? When the Ministry offered me the Auror job, they offered one to Hermione as well, but she turned it down. I think she mainly did it because she knew that being an Auror was your dream, and it would have just been too painful. So, yes, I'm sure you know that she went back to Hogwarts instead. I gave her a bit of hell for that, of course. But it was strange, and I wished you were there. Teasing Hermione just isn't an enjoyable of a pastime without you there to lead the joking. The library of all places! Didn't she get enough of that place in the seven years she called it her home? But I guess she really was perfect for the job because, come on, who knows the Hogwarts library better than Hermione Granger? I bet some of the students were peeved, though, because I'm quite sure that she knew all of the secret little corners that so many students use for snogging much better than Madame Pince ever did. So, I'm sure that loads of romancing was cut short...

I guess you already found out that next year she's going to teach instead of being the librarian. Yes, dear old Professor Flitwick has finally decided to call it quits and retire, leaving one Miss Hermione Granger as the new Charms mistress. She's excited, of course; she told me that she already has the first and second years' lessons made for the entire course and that's she's working on getting the third and fourth years' finished as well. I'm glad she's got something to keep her occupied.

Truth be told, I've been a bit worried about her lately. If it's possible, it seems as though this year has been even harder on her than the last. I know that maybe I shouldn't be telling you all of this because it probably won't do anything but upset you, but I really need to talk to someone about it. Seeing Hermione so distraught has been taking a toll on me as well. I really don't think you could possibly imagine what it's like seeing her when she's having one of her bad days. One day, Dumbledore owled me and asked me to come to the school because Hermione had been claiming that she was sick for days and hadn't left her room. I went straight away, and it was just awful, Ron. She was lying on her bed doing nothing except staring at the wall, and when I entered her room, all she did was tell me that she knew what it was like to be in Azkaban. Of course, I was confused, but she told me that she knew exactly what it felt like to be guarded by the Dementors because every single happy feeling in her body had been removed. And then she gave me what had to be the most heart-wrenching story of my life. And what could I do?

I don't even know how to deal with her sometimes. She's so different now, and I know it's killing her to realize that she's not keeping her promise to you by trying to move on with her life. But she can't, Ron; she really can't.

I wish I could see her more than I get to, but it's hard with me always traveling and her living at Hogwarts. We still manage to get together as often as possible, though, and those are the only moments I look forward to anymore. When I'm with Hermione- as long as she's not hysterical- I can be completely open with my thoughts and feelings. For a long while, I wouldn't open up to her because I felt so guilty about everything that had happened. She helped me, though, to realize that bottling everything up would only hurt me in the end. So, when we get together, we talk. About anything and everything. She's told me things that I know she would never have mentioned if everything hadn't happened as it had. And I've told her things that I've never breathed to another human being.

But it's weird.

Because even though we trust each other completely, it's obvious that we're both secretly wishing that you were the one we were confiding to. I know that everything she's sharing with me would have been shared with you instead if you were still here. And I know that if you were here, I'd be telling you all of my secrets instead of Hermione. So, it's almost as if we're substitute Rons for each other... If that makes sense.

Okay, look.

Ron, you were the first real friend I ever had. Unless, of course, you count the spiders that used to share my bed when the Dursleys forced me to live in that tiny broom cupboard. But I'm sure that you would never count spiders as friends, so we'll just say that, yes, you were my first friend.

And you were my best friend, too.

Sure, there's Hermione. And don't get me wrong; Hermione is wonderful- you know that better than anyone. But she's not you, Ron. Remember when we got into that stupid fight during fourth year and stopped talking to each other? Well, Hermione was my makeshift best friend then, and it was alright, but I missed you terribly. Mainly because Hermione couldn't make me laugh the way you could. Well, things haven't changed. She can't make me laugh, and I can't make her laugh. Actually there isn't much of anything that can make either of us laugh these days.

And then there's other reasons why I just can't simply write off a replacement for you.

Ron, you were the only person in the world that I would trust my life to. And I guess the irony of the whole situation is the fact that I did trust my life to you, and you saved it just like I always knew you would. But I just didn't mean for you to die instead... You and I were supposed to have so much more time together. We were supposed to be at each other's weddings. We were supposed to coach our kids' Quidditch teams together. We were supposed to go through our mid-life crisis together. We were supposed to retire together.

And now what?

Who am I suppose to go through all of that with now? Not Hermione.

Ron, it's not bloody fair that this happened! You don't know how much anger I have inside of me all the time now! You don't know how hard it is to capture a Death Eater and not kill him on the spot because I know that he supported the man who murdered you.

I'm just so mad at everyone and everything!

I saw Dean and Seamus at a Quidditch match I went to back in April, and I couldn't quite believe that I could ever feel so jealous. I wanted to just beat both of them to death for having what I didn't have any longer- their best friend. It's not fair; it's just not fair!

And I don't even have anyone that I can go to and confide in. I can't tell Hermione all of these jealous and angry feelings because I always feel like I'm whining, and it makes me feel guilty. Hermione should be the one receiving the support, not giving it. And yet, she still tries to help me out. She's been telling me for two years now that your death was not my fault.

Funny that.

I come up with more reasons every day as to why your death was my fault. Besides the obvious fact that it was me you were defending, there are hundreds of other reasons I can think of to place the blame on myself.

The main one being that Voldemort wouldn't have had anymore interest in you than he had in Susan Bones if you hadn't been my best friend. But since you decided that you wanted to befriend me, you doomed yourself. Just like everyone else who associated with me.

Jesus Christ- I was like the fucking King Midas of the wizarding world. Except instead of turning into gold, everything I touched turned to shit.

It's like I gave off some sort of disease or something! You know, get within breathing distance of "Famous Harry Potter" and turn yourself into the Dark Lord's newest target...

And that's all it was, Ron. You just got too close. Too fucking close.

Yes, you were my best friend, and Voldemort knew that. Honestly, if he had been faced with the chance, he probably would have killed you off years before he did just to get a "Potter ally" off the planet. But he never did, now did he? He never managed to get to you, and he never managed to get to Hermione.

But then that day when we were standing there side by side in front of him, you were no more important to him than a bloody fly on the wall. He had no interest in you that day. No, all he wanted was to kill me- to finally finish what he had started seventeen years before.

But you just had to get in the way, didn't you?

Why, Ron? Why did you have to step in front of me like that? If you would have just stayed put and let him do what he had set out to do and kill me, you could have gone home to Hermione that night. You could be living the life you planned with her right this very moment. But you just couldn't let it happen, could you? You just had to protect me, and you wound up getting yourself killed...

Why were you so stupid?

God, Ron, don't you know that the very last thing in the world I ever wanted was for you to get hurt? You and Hermione were the two most important things in the world to me, and I would never in a million years have ever wished either of you any sort of pain or hurt. But because of me, you got death, and Hermione got a lifetime's supply of agony.

And what did I get?

Guilt... pain... jealousy... anger... The worst kind of emptiness imaginable.

I saw your mum the other day. I've only seen her three times since your funeral. I didn't mean to run into her that day, but we both happened to be at the Ministry at the same time.

She hugged me, of course, and asked me how I'd been. I smiled as warmly as I could and told her I'd been okay. She said she'd been keeping up with me through the Daily Prophet, and I jokingly told her that that was fine as long as she didn't believe anything Rita Skeeter wrote about me. We both laughed for a minute.

And then she just cried. Just like that- out of nowhere- tears just started falling from her eyes.

And what did I do? I bloody cried, too. And Ron, you know that I do not make a habit out of crying in front of people. But I just couldn't help it.

And then everything started coming out. I started in with all of my apologies and pleas for forgiveness, and she just cried harder. We'd never discussed your death before. We went into an empty office, and she told me that I was never to apologize again. When I tried to tell her that it was my fault, she shushed me with an assertive answer that apologies and blame had no place in connection with the most astounding and noble act of bravery that the wizarding world had seen in centuries. She told me that she wasn't going to accept any apologies from me because it had been you, Ron, that had made the decision to sacrifice yourself. And then she'd said that that decision was far nobler than anything she could have ever imagined from her children. And she'd said with a great smile that she was proud of you.

And then she'd said she was proud of me as well.

And after that, I started crying all over again.

I don't let myself to cry often, but there's just something about your mum that allows me the assurance I need to shed tears. And I guess it's because your mother is the only mother I've ever known. I still remember how odd it felt the very first time I ever had the urge to cry in your mother's arms. It was after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, and your mum was staying with me in the hospital wing after I came back from Voldemort. I was blaming myself for Cedric's death then, and she'd assured me that it wasn't my fault. I didn't really believe her, but when she'd hugged me, it was as though I were experiencing a first hug from a parent. And I'd wanted to cry then, too.

While I was with your mum in that empty office, she hugged me again. She told me not to blame myself because none of it was my fault. I didn't believe her, of course, because I knew then and still know that it was my fault, but I didn't say anything. I just nodded silently and marveled at the way it must feel to be hugged by a mother. And even though she didn't say it out loud, I knew that your mum was thinking that hugging me was as close as she was going to get to hugging her youngest son.

So, it was nice for both of us.

But I still feel awful. It isn't fair that your mother has to settle for a substitute youngest son. You know, she's always fussed over me for as long as I've known her, but it was nothing compared to the way she looked at her own children- with eyes so full of love and adoration it almost seemed impossible. You don't know how jealous I used to be of you and your siblings, Ron. Do you know that the very first day I ever met you, I saw your mum scrubbing dirt off of your nose? You seemed so annoyed by it, but I remember thinking how much I would have given to have my own mum scold me about a dirty face. You don't know how lucky you were to be tucked into bed as a child each night by a mother who loved you. You don't know how lucky you were to have your mum read you bedtime stories and sing you to sleep when you were a toddler. You don't know how lucky you were to have a mother who would hug you and comfort you when you got hurt or were scared.

Because I never had any of that.

My mum did the same thing that you did and sacrificed her own life for me. Yes, I bloody killed my mum seventeen years before I killed my best friend.

Do you know that Voldemort didn't even want to kill my mother? Just like he had no concern for you on that day seventeen years later. On both of those days, he wanted one thing and one thing only- he wanted me dead. But he didn't have any luck, did he? He got defeated by the love of a mother on one day and by the loyalty of a best friend on the other.

Ron, I now owe you more than you can imagine. I owe everything in the world to you, and I'll never get to repay you. I'll never ever get to repay my debt.

Because you're dead.

You're buried somewhere under my feet, and I'm talking to a headstone as though it's going to talk back. I'm such an idiot. But I don't know what else to do.

Ronald Phillip Weasley
March 1, 1980- August 9, 1998
Beloved Son, Brother, Friend, and Hero

The words on the headstone seem to be yelling at me what I already know. I already know that you're dead, and you're not going to answer me. I already know that you're a beloved son, brother, friend, and hero.

The main question is whether or not you know all of that.

Do you know that your parents loved you unceasingly and eternally? Do you know that Ginny and your brothers teased you because they loved you so much? Do you know that Bill's baby daughter Elysabeth kisses your picture every night before she goes to bed? Do you know that Ginny's getting married to Colin Creevey in two months, and she's leaving a chair for you at the wedding? Do you know how much all of your friends admire you and miss you? Parvati and Dean toasted you at their wedding, and Neville wrote a story about you for the Daily Prophet- did you know he writes for them now? So many people have come by and given me well-wishes, but it seems that all of these well-wishers end up crying as they start offering up old stories and memories. They all miss you terribly, Ron. And Hermione and me? We miss you the most, I suppose. Because you were really all that we had. Your family still has each other to lean on, but Hermione and I only had each other you. The three of us were supposed to be together for always, and now that trio only consists of two. Oh, and the last title on the stone. Yes, Ron Weasley, you are a hero- the greatest hero of the century, in fact. I never knew that so many history books could be updated so quickly, but your name's in more than mine is. It's great, too, because finally the rest of the world is seeing what I saw all along. I always knew you were the bravest, but I guess that a friend with a scar always blocked everyone else from knowing that, eh? Sorry 'bout that. But if you could see the way everyone reveres your name now, you'd probably shit a brick. It's crazy the way all these people worship you now. I was actually in a store not too long ago, and this witch came up to me, grabbed my hand, and said how pleased she was to meet Ron Weasley's best friend. I laughed because I could just imagine the look on your face at hearing that.

Ron, I miss you. I miss you more than you could even imagine. And it seems like while the rest of the world is getting back to normal, I'm just drowning in guilt and misery. I could never have fathomed that losing a best friend could do this to someone, but now that it's happened to me, I don't know how to handle it. I wish that you were here. I wish every day that things had been different.

I wish you could at least be here to hear all these things.

I should have said them to you years ago; I should have said them to you the very first time you ever risked your life for me back in first year during that damn chess match. I never even thanked you; do you realize that? Do you realize that out of all the times you nearly died trying to help me, I never once even offered a thank you? Never once in seven damn years.

Thank you, Ron.

Thank you for doing all the things that you did and for being the best friend that anyone could ever hope for. Thank you for sticking by me through everything and never questioning anything I ever did. Thank you for taking the time to get to know the real me- not the tragic little hero that everyone else did. Thank you for liking the real me and not the "famous Harry Potter" that everyone else tried to befriend.

Thank you for everything.

Ron, I just hope that you know how much you meant and still mean to me. There's not a day that went by when we were in school that I didn't silently give thanks that I had you around to keep me sane. And there's not a day that goes by now that I don't give silent thanks that I was blessed with a blessed with a best friend who cared so much about me that he would give his own life.

Because although I know I never told you this when you were alive, I love you, Ron, for being there as a best friend for all those years. You were the single most important thing in my life for seven years, and there's no way that two years are going to make me forget that. I have to deal with the guilt over your death every single day, and I know that I will probably always battle with that guilt. But at least I know that for seven far too short years, I had a best friend that was the greatest person in the world.

And you were, Ron. You still are. You're the greatest person I've ever known or will know, and you're the greatest hero that our world has ever known.

I miss you terribly. But I'll make it. And Hermione will make it. And your family will make it. We'll all make it because we learned a great lesson from you.

We learned to never give into fear.

You didn't give into it, and you accomplished more than the rest of us put together. And so now whenever we're afraid or miserable, we know to fight it. We won't give into it because you taught us that there is never an excuse for giving up.

So, thanks. Thanks for teaching us that. Thanks for giving us a reason to move on.

And thanks, Ron, for being my best friend.


The ending didn't really turn out as I would have hoped. I do have at least two more ideas for continuances of this. One is a songfic (never done that before, but I think it would work well), and the other is sort of different. Remember when I referred to Harry going to Hermione's room and her talking about Azkaban? Well, I have a huge scene in my head as to how that all played out, but I didn't know how to tell it from Harry's POV. So, if you guys are interested in it, I'll write it up and add it here. Please review because that's the only way I'll know! :) Thanks!