The Deepest Wish

Dark, gloomy, wet and doomed. That's how Ronald Weasley felt as he lay on a bed in St. Mungo's . He painfully tilted his head a bit to the right. A handful of Healers were moving around, checking the multitude patients lying there. A few of the patients had visitors. Ron knew most of them, as most of them were friends and some, Aurors. And they, the patients, were there: Some fighting for life, some for death. But they all seemed glad; and it surprised Ron. He turned his bleeding head slowly to stare at the ceiling. The sight of the visitors overwhelmed him. He too, like most others would perish. But, he would be alone in it, overshadowed again by the others. No one would be there beside him. The nineteen year old hated to be forsaken. But it seemed as if Destiny had written his fate and sealed it.

Ever since child hood, Ronald Weasley got little recognition. His brothers had been head boys and Quidditch captains. Even the twins were well off. And Ginny had always been pampered. Overshadowed by his siblings, he entered Hogwarts. His best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were always there for him. But popularity pursued Harry and Hermione had been the star student. Yes, he had his shoots to fame too. He was the talk of the school when He had helped Harry with the chess in their first year and when he had been involved in the Triwizard tournament in his fourth year and when he got into the Quidditch team in his fifth year. But the other bits came with a price: like when Ginny was in a critical situation in his second year or when he was nearly killed by Sirius Black. And he was made a Gryffindor prefect in his fifth year only because Harry had 'enough responsibility'. His friends had the applause and he was sidelined.

He hated Harry now for this. And even Hermione had her share. Didn't she always make him out to be incompetent? Didn't she always like others better than him? Krum... Harry...Lockhart...? Nobody had really recognized him for what he was.

His head was spinning. His vision blurred and he was dying...alone ...no friends...no siblings...no visitors...no one...Was this the worth of friendship? He had almost always been there for them. Even a few hours back, it had been him who had promised Harry that he would stand guard at the Ministry to prevent the frantic Death Eaters from causing further damage there and he had been the one who valiantly resisted the Death Eater's attacks. It was because of him that Tonks and Chang were now at least alive. But, no matter what he did, nobody would even bother to shoot him a glance.

"He needs at least five liters of blood. Or else, he'll die. Too weak that it's a..." A voice penetrated his consciousness. But his eyes were shut and his body was aching. The stench of death increased his depressed mood. He was slipping away, slowly, slipping away...

"Ron, Ron..." He felt too tired to think.

"Wow! Heaven! St. Peter...that you?" he finished thickly.

"He's moving!"

"What?"

"Yes! Ron, wake up, open your eyes..."

Something wet fell on his face and it was quickly wiped away.

"Get up, Ron. Come on." Another well known voice with a tenderly tough emotional timbre in it.

He couldn't bear it anymore. He opened his eyes. Through his still-blurred vision, he made out two pairs of eyes. Vivid green and warm brown. He blinked and the scene became clearer.

"Harry, 'Mione." Surely he was hallucinating. Who ever bothered about him?

"Ron, oh dear, you'll be alright. Harry, He's getting up. Get the Doc, quick." Strong arms helped him get up. "I'll get a healer," said the voice belonging to it

A minute passed. Someone said a spell and a warm, mellow light lit the area around them. And the full impact of his surroundings hit him. As he looked around him, dazed, he found Hermione sitting about a foot from him, her right fore arm and his were connected by a tube . Blood transfusion. And he found himself leaning on Harry's shoulder.

"Oh, Ron, you saved the day. Our victory is sealed, thanks to you. The remaining des are finished," Hermione was saying. It sounded incredulous to his ears. Who even bothered to spare him a thought, let alone praise him? "What d'you mean?" he muttered. But before either of them said a word, something happened and a group of redheads caused a slight diversion.

"Ron, you're alive. I was so scared when I came to know what had happened in the Ministry,' said Ginny, hugging him.

"Thanks to you, we can all breath again. And yeah, you are getting an Order of Merlin, I think, the Second class," said Bill.

"You made us proud, li'l bro'," said George.

"Whatever d'you mean?" said Ron, still numbed by the pain and the compliments that were being showered on him.

"Well mate," began Harry, "I did manage to finish Voldemort off. But to make sure that he would never return again, Dumbledore had created a charm. It was hidden in the Ministry, in a certain room in the department of Mysteries, and only I or Dumbledore could even summon or use it. Somehow, Voldemort had come to know about it and so he had sent the Death Eaters to destroy it before I could use it. And since you had single-handedly warded all of them away and foiled Voldemort's plan, I managed to get rid of Voldemort for good."

"But why did Dumbledore have to hide it in the Ministry? He could have told you how to do it as soon as he had created it," Ron wondered aloud.

'That was because Hogwarts has proved that it isn't as safe as it seems. And if he'd told me about the whole way the spell worked Voldemort, would have been able to find out all about it when I left my guard down. Really great, Dumbledore. It's a pity that he died,' finished Harry with a sigh.

It took Ron some time to swallow all this. Then, slowly, he said, "So You-Know-Who is..."

"Are you going to say Voldemort at all? For heavens sake Ron, don't be so silly," admonished Hermione, amidst a snigger from one of the twins.

"Okay, okay...I thought I was going to die," said Ron, changing the track at once and voicing the thought that was going in his mind.

"But you won't, dear," said a kind looking Healer' "This young lady here had your blood match and was only too willing to give it up for blood transfusion; though I daresay she needs it much herself," she said, looking at Hermione, who was slowly going red.

"You've taken a long time to turn up, ma'am," said Fred to the Healer who was now checking Ron up. But even before she could reply, a shout rented the air.

"Mr. Ronald Weasley," yelled a breathless young fellow, sprinting up to Ron amidst the people in the room. He looked like a journalist and he reminded Ron of someone. "Mr. Ronald, I'm Colin Creevey, reporter to the Daily Prophet. I need to know your version of what happened in the..."The Healer had had enough. "Out. OUT. How dare you disturb the patients here? Out," she screamed. "But I... It is really important you see," he went on. "I won't hear any of that. OUT." She said, now drawing out her wand.

Ron, Harry, Hermione, Bill, Fred, George and Ginny were watching the Healer and Colin struggling to get past each other with good humor. But, Ron felt the happiest. He had lost many in the course of the Second War, including his parents. But he felt peaceful, now knowing that he was loved, wanted and popular.

His deepest wish had come true.