Life as Ronald Weasley


Summary: Voldemort was defeated, but to which price? In an desperate attempt to save the lost lives, decided Ron to do it at least once right and scarified himself for his brother in all but blood.

Warnings: OOC!Ron&Harry! Poor grammar! No regular update! AU!

Pairings: Some planned but undecided, open for suggestions.


Chapter 1: Prologue: The last chance; Just once, far too late, he wanted do to the right thing . . .


"No" Harry refused. "Not you too"

Ron remained unimpressed, staring hard at the broken eyes of his best friend, he knew it was their last chance.

"It's the only way Harry," He spoke calm, so unbelievable calm, that Ron himself questioned from where he had the strength. "We tried looking for a different way, didn't we? Do you really think that I didn't think it trough?" There was some hidden joke, but the sober, sorrowful, air around them swallowed all happy thoughts.

Harry deviated his eyes from him, sagging against the dirty wall behind him, face resigned. Ron averted his eyes, clenching his hands to fists.

Voldemort was defeated, but to which price?

Hogwarts, the great castle, was in ruins, Hogsmeda destroyed and Diagon Alley became a place for criminals.

The fight -war, he reminded himself- was long, hard and with many deaths on both sides. There was even a time where he just simply believed that they all would die together.

Then came the relieving messages. Voldemort was dead, Harry won.

The relief held not on for long. Ron foolishly believed that once the Dark Lord was dead that the fights would stop. It was pure naivety.

They became even more brutal.

Then came the next nightmare. The muggles found out about the magical word. Ron never really thought about them, they were always somehow at the back of his mind. He wasn't prejudiced against them, Merlin, no, but he realized that he believed himself more superior to them. What kind of threat could muggles give them, the magical word? A simple oblivate spell and it would have been taken care off.

It wasn't that simple. He terribly underestimated the sheer number of them, he underestimated the efficiency of technology.

War broke out again. It wasn't like that they didn't tried to work together, but the suspicion, the prejudice, the hate and fear was on both sides to much. It wasn't an all out war, some countries ignored them, didn't want to do anything with the crazy robe wearing people. Others, like many so called occults began to seek them out, named them -the wizards and witches,- as some higher beings that would bring Armageddon to them.

They weren't a problem, annoying yes, but no problem that they couldn't face. The problem were the people and groups that began to fight and kill off the magical beings. They were organized hunts, like for some kind of animal. Even the governments and military joined in.

The magical word had no real chance, half destroyed from their own war, it was only a question of time before the muggles would become the ultimate winners. Especially after they found out about the more hurtful spells of the magical words. Not only were spells criticized that were dark and hurtful, but even with spells, which were normal to Ron, like the obliviate spell. For him it was normal, for the muggles not. How often were they feed lies? How often were they brainwashed? How many deaths were because of the magicians and not terrorist?

Ron suppressed a sigh. He wanted to scream, to wake up and realize that it all was just a terrible, terrible nightmare, to enclose his sister, his brothers and his parents in a tight hug and never let go.

However, he knew that this could only happen in a dream. He hadn't dreamed since his sister died.

He and Harry were the only ones remaining of the Order of the Phoenix.

His family, Remus, Sirius, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Neville, Hermione, even those who weren't part of the Order like Luna, Susan, Dean and many more were all dead. Only he and Harry remained, the golden trio broke. Hermione, beautiful, smart Hermione. They did break up, the strain of war being to much for their shaky relationship, but Ron never stopped loving the fierce women. She was murdered by a muggle, of all things with a shotgun.

It was so surreal, somehow after all the time thought he that the three of them were somewhat invincible, would never die.

Hermione died, shot by an crazy muggle as she gave a speech about how it was possible to live together in peace. She never had the chance to finish her speech, on which she worked for weeks without a break.

Neville died protecting some orphaned children, his death was quick and painless, hit by an avada kedavra curse. He died a hero, like his parents.

Shacklebolt, who was named Minister of Magic after Voldemort's fall, was murdered ,by whom, they don't now. At that time there were many suspects who were unsatisfied with the system, Shacklebolt was just one of many persons at whom the mass let out their frustration, their hate.

Many more died, were killed, murdered, tortured, in an endless circle of violence and hate. Never understanding each other, never trying to see outside their own selfish needs and wants. Ron was exactly the same.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Harry spoke up.

"There must be a different way" He whispered, more to himself than to Ron."We must have overlooked something"

There was a desperate pleading tone in Harry's voice that just screamed at Ron to agree with Harry. To say, that it was alright, that yes, there was a different way, but there wasn't. They just both didn't want to accept it.

"Why you Ron?" Harry asked with a tired face, looking up from his sagged position against the wall. He didn't look anything like the glorious Hero from the many stories his mother told them when they were young and alive.

"Why me?" the redhead repeated. "Why you?" He asked and gave Harry no time to retaliate.

"I was never smart, never strong, never understood anything, never thought, never understood the situation, always so tactless." He listed with a rueful smile. "Always so dumb, so stupid, so utterly stupid. Jealous of the person who has the most shittiest fate of the world-"

"Ron-" Harry tried to interrupt, but the Weasley didn't let him.

"No! It's the truth. It's always you, always you who suffers, always you who takes the blame, the hate." He choked on his words. "I-I always admired you Harry, you know? I always wanted to be so brave like you, to be popular, to have much money. Before I noticed changed the admiration to a bloody dark jealousy." He turned his eyes away from his friend, feeling ashamed. "I was... so jealous, so captivated in that stupid jealousy. "He stared at his friend, he will not run away from this. "I didn't notice how much I hurt you, how much I hurt the others, heck I was a unreliable swine." He took a deep breath. "But you, you forgave me. You of all the people, you who had the bloody damn right to be mad at me, to hate me, to curse me... forgave me. You forgave me, even when I myself never forgive myself."

He looked his eyes with astonished green ones.

"So just this once, this once, let me be the one who does the right thing, just once, even if it's to late. Let me do this."

Harry stared at him, the astonished expression fading to a look that bore into his soul. Seeing all his faults, all his regrets, all the guilt. His friend slide down the wall as he closed his eyes, a sigh escaping him. Ron stood there anxious, ready to launch in a new tirade that would had rivaled Hermiones, but he didn't had to.

"Fine" Harry spoke softly, leaning his head against the wall, eyes closed. Ron opened his mouth and closed it, stunned, hearth beating erratic.

"Harry?" He asked, cursing in his mind at his weak voice. His friend ignored him.

"Tomorrow"

Ron gazed at him, he could practically feel the guilt radiating from Harry, but he didn't care. Harry wouldn't die, wouldn't jut cease to exist. With Harry they had a chance.

"We begin tomorrow" Harry repeated to himself, voice painfully void of emotions.

[1]

/The next day/

There was a tense silence

"It's not fair, it's just not fair" Harry whispered, breaking the overwhelming silence, not looking up from the two ritual circles on the ground.

"The world never is" Ron stated, looking at the crumpled papers in his hands. There were black letters, forming to complex words and sentences in the straight handwriting of Hermione.

"You will die, never meeting your family, your friends, Hermione!"

Ron smiled sadly "Yes, I will not, but you and if it's you, then I know that you will protect them with everything you have" He spoke softly, glancing back at the paper, noticing, this time, the messy handwriting of Luna, adding thoughts or crossing out some things Hermione wrote. "Think about it, you could-No, you will do the right thing, you will have a family-"

He was interrupted by an angry growl.

"Your family!" Harry bit out.

"Your family," He added softer. "I would be taking your family. You know that there is a risk that the soul will itself manifest in the body of...the sacrifice" Harry explained, whispering the last words. The black-haired man flinched as Ron laughed.

"That's the reason your worried?" Ron looked at the confused and hurt expression of his friend. "You are family. You are a honorary Weasley. Really, since the first time that my mom knitted you a sweater, since the time you saved me and my family, again and again. Since the first time you shared your sweets with me, you were always a Weasley. Nothing changed that and nothing will change that"

He looked at his speechless friend.

"Think about it, you yourself said that there is a possibility that the soul would land in the body of the sacrifice." He said, trying to use logic for once outside of chess. "Now, imagine. Me being in your body, me living the life as Harry Potter. I could never handle it, the Dursleys, the fame, the people and we both know that I'm just too bloody stupid to hide a secret. I could never handle such a thing" Ron knows that he was guilt tripping Harry, but if it was the only way, then he would. It wasn't like he lied, it was the truth, he couldn't deal with the Durleys without blowing up, couldn't deal with the fame without growing arrogant.

"You will die" Harry stated.

"I know"

"You will never see your family again"

"...I know"

"I..I..."

"I know" Ron said assuring and he knew, he did, even if Harry couldn't from the words, he understood.

They shared a moment of silence and just stared at each other.

Ron will not just die, he will literally cease to exist. The ritual transforms the voluntary victim to the purest form of magic, even the soul will not be spared. The read haired man, balled his hands to fist. He was scared. He didn't want to die, didn't want to swirl around as nothing. He will never be able to see his family, could never follow them to the death.

Of course, it could have been that Hermione and Luna, brilliant in their own ways, made an error and it just blows them up.

He bit his lip and stepped in to the avada-green circle. Ignoring the desperate look that Harry was sending him. He will do it.

"Ron!" Harry spoke up, as he walked just like Ron to the circle, but a different one, his was a light blue.

"You don't need to do-" He began but Ron interrupted him angrily.

"Yes! I must. So shut the hell up Harry!" He said, his agitation rising. "I was never as ready as now" He spoke, calming himself down.

Harry stared at him, visibly fighting back the urge to move out of the ritual. Ron glanced sadly at him.

"That will be a goodbye" He said, voice somehow empty.

"Yes, there will be no next time" Harry agreed, eyes cast to the ground.

Why did this things always happens to Harry? Thought Ron. He never found an answer. Was it fate? Coincidence? Or lost Harry's guardian angel in a card play?

"Good luck" Ron called to Harry. "And look after Ginny, will you? And after Fred, George and Percy, and, and..." Ron trailed off, comprehending the situation, like always, to late. He didn't want to die, he wanted to see his family. He wanted to make his family proud. He really wanted to see them, just one last time.

Ron knew that he just needed to utter the words that he didn't want it to do, and Harry will stop. That will stop. But no, he was a Gryffindor, a Weasley for Merlin's sake. They didn't run away. He took a deep breath.

"That's our last chance, do it right Harry, will you? And let me prove to you that I'm not useless"

He was surprised when he heard a bitter laugh.

"You're aren't useless, you're one of the bravest and stupidest persons I know. What kind of Idiot would cross the way with a Troll?" He added with a smile and Ron calmed down.

"Well, I see one across from me" Ron said, remembering back, it was his fault to begin with, he was the one who insulted Hermione.

"Let us begin"

Harry looked at him and Ron gulped down hard.

"Let's do it, before if shit in my pants"

. . .

[1]

With a deep breath shot Harry's eyes open.

He blinked.

His eyes widened as he noticed the blurry image of Molly Weasley's face.

Harry did the only think he could.

He wailed.

.


-Chapter End-


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