Carve Me A Grave With My Name On It

Disclaimer: It´s time for another one of these I guess. Nothing´s mine but the plot and emotion behind it... Yeah, that´s about right.

The headmaster looked slightly down at Ron. The old man´s eyes bore into him as Ron gazed up to meet them. It stunned him that the two would continuously cross paths. The idea was nerve twisting to feel that one was being stalked by the school´s famous headmaster.

"Professor..." Ron began fictitiously, "I, er... I was just looking for Madam Pomfrey... I wanted some water."

"So you decided to skip searching her office and have a stroll down to the kitchens where the House elves could also whip you up some nice sweets as well," Dumbledore stated almost sarcastically. "I do believe Poppy keeps a pitcher of fresh water by each patient´s side tables for cases such as your own."

That was something Ron had forgot about. Why didn´t it occur to him that he had had a drink from the very pitcher he was talking about? Lying was never Ron´s strong point, or perhaps Dumbledore always knew better. Damn, he thought. He was so close to making it, but no. A fresh surge of anger arose in him. Damn, Dumbledore for playing these stupid games with me. Why did he need to pick the exact times when Ron wanted to escape to make his return to the infirmary?

"Perhaps it never occurred to me that that big jug-like thing with liquid inside was a water pitcher. Please forgive my unstable self for not noticing," he said back to the headmaster, bitterly. Shit, maybe that was a little too cynical...

Dumbledore, thankfully, let it slide. Although, he did give Ron a bit of a glare. Ron exhaled silently, and guiltily decided the floor needed examining. Sometimes, his fiery anger would get the best of him, leading him to more trouble than he bargained for. That whole day was filled with tumultuous examples. As he regained his senses, he glanced up to see Dumbledore gone. Turning his head slightly Ron saw the man beckoning him toward his bed in the corner of his eye. Damn, I almost had it, he sighed mentally.

Defeated, Ron followed his headmaster back to his bed. Hanging his head in shame, it seemed that his short walk lasted forever. It was as though the Ministry of Magic found Ron guilty of being engrossed in Death Eater activity, and now he was taking his long walk into the realm of Dementors: Azkaban. For a moment he could even feel the scabby and scarred cold hands of the dark creatures carrying his pain heavy body to his cell. He could feel the happiness being sucked out of him, and replaced, was the dark anger-filled fears and sadness of his heart. So this is how Sirius felt, he mused.

Shaking away his dreary fantasies, he found himself at the foot of his bed. He also noticed his headmaster there as well. Ron gazed up at him as if asking "now what?" but kept his mouth shut. Possibly the old man had read his expression, because he let out a soft sigh. Maybe it was a yawn, for he did seem tired in Ron´s eyes. Ron knew the effects of tiredness on the face, but he also knew sadness.

For a moment, he felt sorry for Dumbledore. Fighting Voldemort, keeping up with the Ministry and muggle newspapers, seeing that Hogwarts was safe, and now stalking Ron. He couldn´t imagine how the man did it all. But then again, this was Dumbledore. Dumbledore, friend of famous alchemists like Flamel, fighting dark wizards like Grindelwald. Sure he was about 150 years old, but he could handle it. He wasn´t known as the greatest wizard of all time for nothing.

"Ron?" a voice asked, knocking Ron out of his seat on his train of thought. Oh yeah, Dumbledore.

"Yes, professor?" he answered. Then he realized what the problem was. He was still standing at the foot of his bed, staring at the man. "Oh."

Sheepishly almost, Ron climbed into his bed. Pulling the covers over himself, which had to be for the third or fourth time over the course of a couple hours, he stared up at the ceiling. Letting out a long sigh, he let his gaze drop to Dumbledore who had not even bothered to move. He wasn´t evening watching Ron anymore. Good, he thought, because that would be kind of creepy. Instead his focus was on the door to the wing, as if he was expecting something to happen. A few moments passed as they both watched the door.

"I know this is hard for you," the headmaster started, breaking the silence, but still keeping his eye on the door. "These times are not easy for anyone, Mr. Weasley. I can understand how much worse it could be for you. You know I am in close touch with your family. And I am certain you understand my connection with Harry. I do believe I know more than you think I do."

Ron looked at him, hoping he would look back. This is pleasant, he thought.

"I know what you´re up to. I know whose affection you seek. I know you think your life is nothing," he continued, still gazing at the door "But you must understand, suicide is not the answer. These dark clouds, bringing shadows that diminish our hopes and faith, will pass. Ending your life now is giving up and you--"

"But you see, sir," Ron interrupted, "Think of how much easier it would be for all of us. Without me, there would be one less person´s life for you to worry about. My parents wouldn´t have to bend over backwards trying to find me cheap clothing and books. Without me, Hermione and Harry could live a good life without me being in the way, or to care about. Of course, they don´t care right now, but that´s--"

"Preposterous, that´s what it is. Both cared enough to bring you here where you belong. Fainting from ridiculous things like starving yourself and lack of sleep can cause dangerous effects. They did the right thing," he strongly confirmed, finally reallocating his attention to Ron.

"If they cared, they´d leave me there to die."

"Again, you´re being foolish, boy. They love you more than you think."

"Who are you? My mother?" Ron said abruptly.

"If you would like to think of me that way," Dumbledore chuckled slightly, but quickly regained his composure. "Speaking of mothers, how would yours feel knowing she´s lost her youngest son, when she thought he was the safest of her lot? Your brothers are in more danger than you are. The woman would lose her mind. And what about your sister? What would--"

"What do you care if I died anyways? Why is it that you have to talk me out of it? I already have justified reason of what I´m prepared to do, and I want to do it, so why?" he growled. Ron already couldn´t believe all of the things he was telling the man. He had failed himself for there was no way he would be able to die under Dumbledore´s watch.

"Mr. Weas--"

There was sudden thunderous pounding on the door. Not even a moment later, a cracking sound and a slamming of a door into the wall proved that the lock was broken, and someone had entered the infirmary by force. The noise had awoken some of the few patients in the wing. But it hadn´t stopped there. There was the sound of a person running, hard rubber, possibly metal, against stone.

"Professor Dumbledore!" a deep, but loud voice echoed through the chamber.

Dumbledore shifted his attention back to the door. He had been standing, so all he had done was take a few steps toward the intruder. A man with dark hair and robes as dark came into view. It was amusing though, how the black darkness of the man´s attire had highly contrasted the already dark wards. Must be Snape.

And right he was.

"What so terrible has happened that you must parade in here disrupting these weak students´ peace, Severus?" the older man almost scolded.

"Forgive me please," Snape started sardonically, "but the unconscious body of a girl is in the corridors. She´s not breathing, and her pulse is barely there. But she´s alive."

"Why didn´t you bring her here?"

"I wasn´t sure if I could... There´s a knife stuck in her abdominal region. I think... I think it was a suicide attempt."

And then there was silence.

Looking thicker by the second, Snape finally continued, "I didn´t want to do anything to make it worse."

"You idiot!" Dumbledore cried. Tensing for a moment, he gave Ron an expression he couldn´t read. With an artificially pleasant toned, "Excuse me" to Ron, he began his run out of the infirmary, without another moment to spare. The potions master immediately followed with an exasperated look on his face. Ron could hear their conversing while they made their way.

"Who is it, Severus?" he heard Dumbledore say from outside the door.

"I believe it´s Ginny Weasley," Ron barely heard Snape answered, slightly panting.

Ron´s eyes went wide. He suddenly propped himself up on the bed. His mouth almost hung open after hearing the name. Absentmindedly staring at the bed directly opposite of his, he was stunned. He was in shock. How could it be that his baby sister had attempted suicide? It was unbelievable.

"W-why?" he sputtered at no one in particular. "How could... why did... No!" he croaked.

He felt the bed shaking, before he realized it was him that caused it. Perhaps he was dreaming. Dreams were good, since bad things happening, like this, would all be just manifestations of the subconscious imagination. Ginny killing herself was only signifying that Ron wanted to die. Yes, it was all only a dream and soon, he´d wake up and everything would be fine, minus the fact that Ron´s own attempts at killing himself were flattened by the universe´s waves of misfortune.

"Must´ve dropped off while Dumbledore was ranting," he said to himself. Shit, he thought, after realizing that he had been awake the entire time, and nothing was a dream and it was all happening.

Suicide. His sister had tried to commit suicide. Everything in her life was perfectly fine, wasn´t it? There was no reason for her to try something so foolish. And possibly succeed, his mind reminded him, sending a cold, chill feeling throughout his body. Ron continually told himself she was fine and that he would have a talk with her about this foolishness when she was back in proper form. But it wasn´t as if Ron believed himself. He knew how the Weasleys were. They were stubborn, hot headed, determined and would never let anything get in their way. Even when it comes to self mutilation and suicide, he chewed over as he sighed.

A steady flow of tears streamed from his eyes, and he knew what he had to do. Sliding off the bed, Ron decided he would go see her. As gruesome as the sight would be, Ginny was his sister, and he wanted to be there, even if he couldn´t help in any way. His legs were weak and he slightly limped his way to the infirmary entrance. A side effect from so much trauma, he explained to himself when he noticed his lacking of good health. He shambled his way onward, till he met the door. Opening it slightly, and examining the outside to see if it were safe, he exited. Finally out of the medical environment, and away from the sterile smell, Ron looked about the corridor. If only I knew where she was...

There was only one way to go from the hospital wing, and that was straight down the hallway until one would hit an intersection. The corridor out of the wing was quite long though, and it was also dark. Torches were not usually lit throughout the school, so perhaps following lit paths was the path to following. Swallowing hard, out of distress and not fear of being caught, Ron started his journey to see his possibly dead sister, despite what the faculty would say.

After a few moments of jogging, Ron heard people coming from down the corridor. He thought that maybe it was Filch or someone, but he didn´t care. Keeping up his pace he hurried some more to find his destination. The only problem was that the people were coming in his direction. Perhaps it was Dumbledore and Snape. Perhaps they had Ginny with them. Maybe she had a chance to live... Ron hurried more till he was sprinting down the hallway.

Up along his path, Ron could see four figures dark figures making their way down the corridor. One was floating, in a position as if on a stretcher that wasn´t there. He knew who they were. It was Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape with Ginny´s floating body ahead of them. A sad sight in deed it was for Ron. He could feel his eyes watering seeing that his sister was in such a state. But what was worse was that the group had seen him as he raced toward them and Snape had stepped up to greet him.

"Weasley, what do you think you´re doing here?"

Ron almost completely ignored the sneering man who had spoken to see his sister. Instead, he stopped in his tracks and slowly looked up at his professor. Trying his best to give an angry, hateful glare, all Ron could give was the expression of someone who was in severe emotional pain, for that was what the red was.

"Severus, leave him be," retaliated Professor McGonagall. She looked over at Ron and sighed. The trio of elders gave each other looks, and began a hasty pace once again. "You shall follow us back to the infirmary. We will explain when we know it´s safe."

"When you know what´s safe?" Ron inquired, furrowing his eyebrow, and trotted to reach up with the quick adults. "Are you trying to persuade me to believe that what caused that wound right there" -- He pointed to his sister´s blood drenched body-- "was some kind of attack by someone other than herself? Snape said it was most likely a go at suicide!"

"That´s Professor Snape to you, Weasley. And I had said most likely, not exactly," Snape bit back.

Ron glared at the back of the sallow man´s head as he lagged behind. "Well... Then what else could it be? Death Eaters wouldn´t dare come here after last year. And if they did, they´d most likely leave the Dark Mark to prove their genius. Ginny never did anything to anyone that would make them want to murder her, or attempt to! And no one would walk through the corridors at night with the Dark Lord out. Minus the Slytherins, of course... But even they wouldn´t dare do anything under the Headmaster´s nose would they? Maybe Malfoy would, but I highly doubt it. There´s nothing to explain about suicide Professor. All I want to know if she´ll be alright."

Shifting his gaze on to Dumbledore as silence echoed through the halls, he began to worry. Ginny was strong... She was a Weasley and her body could fight it, even if she didn´t want it to. Pomfrey could help her. With her skills in the medicinal line, broken bones would heal in an instant, cuts would mend themselves like new, and punctured abdomens could be stitched up and magicked back to shape! Ginny could be saved. I swear she´ll be okay. Ron then realized what he was staring at all along. Dumbledore. The man spent so much time worrying about Ron, had he not seen Ginny?

"And I´d also like to know, Professor Dumbledore, why had you not noticed her?" he asked.

And he was answered by more silence for a few moments. The old man with the crooked nose and long white hair finally spoke.

"We shall talk about this at a better time."

Finally reaching the entrance of the Hospital Wing, the three professors hurried inside, finding Pomfrey fretting all over the place about a missing Ron, and then a badly injured, unconscious student. Gathering certain materials to help with whatever procedure they were performing, they ran into a chamber that Ron hadn´t noticed before. In all their concern to help Ginny, he found himself alone.

Ron had almost fainted from the burst of emotion he felt running through his body. Surrendering to his weak body asking for rest, he made his way to his bed on the right side of the wards. The stone ground was cold against his naked feet, and in response, shivers ran throughout his body. At his bed, he silently climbed in and covered himself with sheets. On his back, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember the events of the day. All he could remember was the fact that his own tries at death were squashed continuously, and now, his sister was teetering on the line of life and death.

Why couldn´t I´ve just ended my life last night? Ginny would´ve been too upset to do anything to herself, and she would´ve been safe, he told himself. Everything would´ve been better if he had just swallowed his guilt and did what he needed to do. And now, with his life in downward spiral into a fathomless hole, worse than it even was, Ron was confused. Now what?