Carve Me A Grave With My Name On It

They had passed the Hogwarts gates a long time ago. Hogsmeade too had long been seen. The hills that had been Sirius Black´s safe haven a few back were now a thing of the past. And they continued their journey on the dirt clad, cobblestone path. Prancing hand in hand, Harry and Hermione were oblivious to the fact that Ron was behind them. On and on they went for what seemed like an hour. And for hours Ron watched the smiling, laughing expressions on their faces.

Suddenly, something went wrong. The ground began to rattle slightly. As fast as it came, it stopped. But not even a moment later, it began to shake again, except with more might. It too stopped a few seconds later. The couple before Ron stopped, looking at each other curiously, wondering what was going on. With a shrug from Harry, he took a step. Much to their dismay, the ground again shook.

This tremor was so strong, that the road underneath Harry´s foot broke apart. With quick reflexes, he pulled back to unharmed ground. What happened next was slightly blurry to Ron, but he knew. The earth beneath Harry gave a vicious push, sending him flying. It was in slow motion, that he watched as Hermione yell, "No!" and Harry´s body was thrown into the deep crevice the violent quaking caused. Ron then watched the panicking girl as she threw herself to the edge of the road to the crack, and he too panicked. He had just watched his best friend disappear, and he was not about to let his love end as well.

As Hermione neared the edge, Ron ran to her, despite the ground´s quivering. On instinct, he tried to grab her hand, but it was no good. He tried to get a hold of her around her waist but he again failed. It was as though he couldn´t touch her. His hands just went through her. Finally, her foot slipped off the edge of the crevice, and loosing her balance, she too seemed to be sucked into the pool of darkness.

The shaking earth calmed, and Ron sat by the edge, head in hands, crying. He could even hear her voice still screaming out his name, echoing.

"Ron... Ron...Ron..."

"Ron!"

With a jolt, his eyes snapped open. Only several inches above him was what he thought was the face of an angel. Am I already dead? Letting his eyes get into focus, he realized it was Hermione.

"Hermione?" he questioned, his voice raspy and hoarse.

"Ron!" she exclaimed, as she scooped his frail body into her arms, giving him a tight squeeze of a hug. "Oh Ron, I thought we lost you! (Thanks, he thought.) I checked your pulse and it was barely there! Oh, thank goodness your awake!"

All he managed to say was, "Uh huh."

Ron looked up to see the rest of the Gryffindors of his class gazing at him like vultures on the dead body of rat. Hermione was still holding him. He couldn´t but admit to himself that he liked it. But all too soon she let go of him. Taking a look him, Hermione took the opportunity to say something.
"Look at you, Ron, you´re skin and bones. What´s happening to you?"

Ron looked at her, and with a surge of guilt, he looked away. Why should he say anything? Especially with him Housemates goggling at him.

"Nothing. I´m fine."

"You can´t be fine. We came in here after Herbology to find you lying unconscious on the floor! You´re so pale, you´re as white as a unicorn!" she grimaced, "Ron, we´ve been watching you. Harry and I have both noticed you change. We worry. It´s as though you don´t want to be with us anymore... or anyone for that matter. Please tell me what´s going on."

Sure as hell you worry. Worst bucket of lies I´ve ever heard. Ron couldn´t stand seeing them try to act like they cared. Only when he was in a noticeable position did they try. Like just then was an example. In pain and visible was when they tried. Pathetic really. He felt rage flooding his system. I won´t let them see me like this. Ron tried to push himself up to go. His arms collapsed on him, and he fell onto his back, painfully. With a sharp gasp of breath, he tried again.

"Ron! What are you doing?"

"I´m fine, I have to go."

"No, you´re hurt and you may have broken something. I told Harry to go get Madam Pomfrey. They should be here soon"

That outraged him. Who were they to think that he needed help? He was fine as he was. And there was no use in helping him out, as his life was to end that very night. It would only be a waste of Pomfrey´s time. She probably had other sick kids to tend to.

"Listen, Hermione. I´m perfectly fine, and I´ll know when I need aid. Right now, all I need is some water and some time to be left alone," he said, emphasizing the last part to show he wanted some privacy to his Housemates. They seemed to understand as they all seemed to scatter into the Great Hall, as it was time for their lunch break.

"No! Harry said it would be best if Pomfrey looked at you."

"Why? What, with me out of the way you and Harry could have a quick snog before classes start again?"

She looked scandalized by that comment. He continued.

"Besides, I don´t need nor want Harry´s help, and I don´t care what he thinks would be best."

"Ron!"

"I don´t care, Hermione. I don´t care anymore, so just bugger off."

"Harry is your best friend, and I thought I was too," she started with her eyes slightly squinting, and her voice at a low volume, but high intensity. "I think I know what this is about--"

"No. You don´t know what it´s about. Like I said, bugger off."

And with that, he used all his might to push himself off the floor. Steadying himself as he stood at full height, he grabbed his bag. "You may be a resident genius, but you´re quite oblivious to anything that doesn´t lay written in books. If you need me, I´ll be... Hell, I don´t know."

He slowly turned to go. He could feel himself getting out of breath as he took only a few steps. His books seemed to be weighing more then they seemed to before. Ignoring the warnings his body was sending him, his mind focused on heading to his dormitory, finding the Marauder´s Map, and sneaking out to Hosgmeade where he would definitely be alone.

"Ron! You can´t just run like this... Or well, walk struggling... Madam Pomfrey is coming for you, and don´t worry, we´ll stand by you for the whole time!"

He turned to look at Hermione. The look of desperation was painted on her face. "I don´t need your help. I´m turning seventeen soon, and after next year I´m off on my own. I can take care of myself." He was lying to her. He almost laughed at himself thinking, I´ll never last long enough to see the day.

"Please listen to me, Ron."

"No."

Again, he turned to go. This time, he tried to walk faster and ignore the fast that his body was disagreeing with him and his actions. Reaching the end of the corridor however, it seemed as though it had had enough. Ron could feel his body give up on him and his will. The last thing he remembered was the coldness in the air as he collapsed on the ground. And again, he fell into unconsciousness.

The earthquake had finally stopped. Ron found himself starring into the deep opening in ground. There were no more echoes coming from his friends who had fallen in. They were most likely dead. A sudden feeling on loneliness hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured on him. He had lost his friends and now they were going to a happier place together, leaving him behind. As usual, he sighed.

The wind was blowing cold air through the area. The ground beneath Ron was chilly as well. Howling could be heard from the wolves of the nearby forests. The whole scenario was frightening. But nothing was as frightening as the broken ground before him. The large crack silently roared at him, screaming obscenities. It was asking Ron why he did what he did. And Ron just sat confused.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps coming up behind him. The clicking of hard rubber against cobblestone was unbearable. Ron refused to allow his curiosity to get the best of him. If it was a person he that was coming down this path, so be it. As long as he didn´t bother Ron, that is. But he had thought too soon.

"Ron?"

The voice was deep, but it seemed devoid of emotion.

"Ron?" it repeated.

Still refusing to move, he sat transfixed on the crevice, but answered, "What do you want?"

"I´ve a message for you."

"What is it?"

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger have entered our realm."

"What? What realm do you speak of?" he asked, picking himself up off the ground to see who this strange messenger was. Taking a last look at the dark fathomless depths of the fissure, he stepped back, and turned around.

There, standing before Ron was the dead Cedric Diggory in color and in the life.

"Aren´t you supposed to be dead!"

"Yes, and I am. Not pulling a Peter Pettigrew here," he seemed to chuckle. "Don´t tell me you forgot you´re dead, I--"

"I´m dead?"

Ron felt his knees lose their will to stand up, and he was scrawled on the floor. Cedric must have been surprised that he´d fainted from the old news, for Ron could hear him call his name.

"Ron! Ron you must get up! Ron..."

"Ron," someone called. "You have to get up, man!"

He opened his eyes. Déjà vu. Ron was lying in a bed, fixed up with white linens. The air had a certain smell that one would not be able to put a finger on, but the smell alone could answer all of one´s questions. Taking a whiff of the air, it occurred to him that he was in the hospital wing. Great, someone magicked me here, he lazily thought.

"Ron? You awake yet?" It was Harry, someone whom Ron did not want to see.

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling?" asked Hermione, who was standing next to Harry looking down at Ron.

"Fine. I told not to bring me here, I didn´t need it," he replied hoarsely.

"Excuse me?" Hermione almost threatened, "Who knows what would´ve happened if I went with my first option of just leaving you in the corridor after you fainted. You could´ve died just lying there."

"You should´ve went with it," Ron mumbled looking directly at the bushy haired girl.

"What?" Hermione looked almost confused. Had he said what she had thought?

"I said, you should´ve went with it," Ron repeated with more of a voice. He turned away from her to see what kind of treatment Madam Pomfrey would be giving him. Perhaps he shouldn´t have said that. It would make them even more suspicious than they already claim to be.

"Ron... What´s wrong?" Harry seemed to speak.

Still staring at his side table, more specifically the details of the wooden legs, he answered with a small sigh, "Nothing."

"I really don´t--"

"Potter. I think you and Hermione should leave," Madam Pomfrey broke in, saving Ron from another interrogation that would´ve been the same as the previous ones he went through. "I will take it from here now that he´s awaken and I can begin to heal him."

"But we promised to stay with him till he was out!" Hermione interjected.

Ron laughed. "What were you thinking when you made that promise? Forgot who you were dealing with did you?"

Pomfrey stiffened. "I don´t want to hear a word from you, Weasley. You´re in a terrible condition, and until you´re in proper health, no visitors. I can tell you haven´t been eating properly, and haven´t had proper rest. Those bags under your eyes wouldn´t even fool a flatworm. I suggest you take better care of yourself once you´re out of here."

Ron squirmed in the bed. Truth it was that Ron hadn´t been eating properly. For several months Ron had been skipping meals, neglecting his body´s needs. Perhaps now the dangers had caught up with him. Also, it was true that Ron hadn´t been getting proper rest either. It never mattered to Ron that he was slowly killing himself without noticing or trying. He had been too preoccupied by his misery and depression. And even though people had noticed his changes in activity, they hadn´t bothered to say anything till it was getting too late. And now, he was bedridden, delaying his plans to make the ultimate sacrifice.

"What do you mean once I´m out?" he asked, very suddenly.

"In your condition, do you really think you´re going to be about in a matter of minutes?" the medi-witch asked scornfully.

"Ron, please, let Madam Pomfrey take care of you," Hermione pleaded from behind the nurse.

Pomfrey had forgotten they were still around and hadn´t left yet. As she turned to see them out, Ron could tell she was fuming inside. Such lack of respect! Ron mocked in his mind, as he watched his friends fuss and fret with the old woman. It was quite a match to watch. They weren´t yelling, but it was a good show, he thought. At last, his two friends gave up, and Harry grabbed Hermione´s hand and walked towards the entrance of the wards. Looking back they mouthed a quick, "Feel better!" and left. The nurse was now walking back to Ron´s bed, and seemed to mumble some thing about a lack of respect.

After checking Ron´s pulse, feeling his forehead, and the state of his bones and muscles, she walked to her medicine cabinet. Pulling out a large bottle of what looked like it contained Poly-Juice Potion, she returned to his bedside.

"You´re to drink all of this, and then sleep. When you awake, I´ll be giving you some more concoctions. Mind you, this potion and the others are not going to be the most satisfying to your taste, but seeing as you don´t like regular foods, this will have to do," she told him. Why was it that she seemed to be upset with him? If she didn´t want to treat him, then she didn´t have to.

"Listen, you don´t need to give me anything. I appreciate all you´re doing, but I do not need to be here. I think we both know this," Ron replied.

"Hold your tongue, boy. The less you speak, the faster you´ll drink, the sooner you´ll sleep, and I´ll be able to treat the other patients of this school. If you haven´t noticed there seems to something going around causing people to vomit worms," she responded to his impudence.

Boy, did that bring back memories. In his second year, Ron had tried to defend Hermione from Malfoy, trying to hex him, but his wand backfired on him. He was forced to chuck slugs for hours. All for Hermione, he embarrassed himself in front of both the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch teams, and Hermione herself, and what did she ever do in return? She gave her love to Harry, and brought Ron to a nurse that seemed to hate him.

Shaking his head, throwing his broken heart aside, he reached for the goblet in which Pomfrey poured the potion on the bedside table. Smelling the liquid inside, he gagged. This would be a long afternoon. Downing the contents in one gulp, he slammed the empty goblet back onto the table. Nasty it was, tasting like a mix of moldy bananas and spoiled milk. As the potion settled in his empty stomach, Ron started to feel chills running up and down his spine. A frosty coldness started to settle around his abdominal areas and spread to engulf his body in an icy feeling. He started to feel sleep coming upon him.

As Ron´s body began to surrender to the pull of slumber, he allowed himself to subside onto the bed he was sitting on. Pulling the covers over him to try to warm his frozen insides, he stared at the high ceiling above him. The curtains around him were drawn and he was out of sight to the rest of the world.

"Just the way it should be," he told himself.

And as Ron retired to sleep there in the wards of the hospital wing, he couldn´t help but think in sadness. Pity I´ll have to delay my death even further, he mused with a sigh. Not a minute later, Ron was sound asleep.