This was, without a doubt, the worst day Ron had ever had. Christmas break had just arrived, and he could not have felt like celebrating less. The problem was that no one around him seemed to even notice his glum mood. In fact, everyone that Ron cared about was happier than they had been in a very long time. Voldemort had been vanquished during the summer-- the war had actually ended much sooner than anyone could have guessed. Once Harry had discovered and destroyed all of the Horcruxes, there had been so little humanity left in Voldemort’s soul that he had been weakened considerably. Professor Dumbledore had even turned up during the battle; he seemed to have a bit of phoenix to him. He had arrived on the scene shortly after Voldemort, who, along with most of his Death Eaters, was killed in a battle on the Hogwarts grounds. Ron had missed the entire battle because he’d been knocked unconscious in the first wave of Voldemort’s attack on Hogwarts. He was lying in the hospital wing, having been taken there by Hermione, when the final confrontation occurred.





The whole world seemed to be in a great dazzle of glee-- with the exception of Ronald Weasley. He was ready to jump in the lake-- literally. He had just been told his work in N.E.W.T. Potions was so bad that he was in danger of being chucked out of the class. This would, of course, mean that he would never be an Auror, and although Harry and Hermione had been helping him, he was still in huge trouble. Harry had threatened to kick him off the Quidditch team if his flying didn’t improve, and although Ron thought Harry was telling him this to motivate him, Ron did not see much of a chance it actually working. In fact, since the last battle, things had seemed a bit strained between Harry and Ron. Harry had begun a fresh relationship with Ginny, and as they grew closer, Harry seemed to be more and more closed off from Ron. Perhaps that was what happened when your friend was dating your sister.





Ron was feeling useless, somewhat friendless, and without passion for doing anything. All of this, however, would not have been so bad if it had not been for the shock he’d received two days ago-- that had been the start of Ron’s utterly despondent mood. Hermione was leaving. Two days ago she had received an owl inviting her to finish her seventh year at Durmstrang. Viktor Krum, world-renowned Seeker, and now headmaster of Durmstrang, had asked if she would like to finish her studies there. She had thought it over and decided that the cross-cultural time would be good for her, helping her develop a better understanding of the rest of the wizarding world.





The row Ron and Hermione had had after that conversation was one for the record books. The whole common room had cleared out by the time they finished screaming at each other.





“How can you even like that guy?� Ron had bellowed. “Everyone knows that he is just Headmaster because he is famous.�





Hermione had argued it being a wonderful cross cultural experience and even that it was a chance to take SPEW international but it was all lost on Ron. Hermione’s last words on the subject were, “Unless you can give me a good reason to stay, Ronald Weasley, then I am going, and I don’t want to hear from you while I am there-- or ever again for that matter!�





So here Ron sat, contemplating using his broom to fly out to the middle of the lake and then jump off. His life was falling apart, and he felt utterly alone. He had done nothing to help defeat Voldemort, his school life was crashing down around his ears, and now the girl he cared for more than anyone else was leaving to be with “Vicky� and never wanted to speak to him again.





Just as he got up to return to Gryffindor Tower to collect his broom, Ron saw a very small owl barreling toward him, flying full speed from the castle. Pigwidgeon was so small that even if he had flown into Ron, he could hardly do any damage at all; however, Pig was so excited about the chance to deliver something, anything, that he zoomed right past Ron, had to turn around, and zoomed back. He then started circling Ron’s head at such speed that Ron was unable to collect the scroll tied to his leg. Ron was tempted to stun the stupid little thing but thought better of it. I’d probably just miss and hit some crazy monster of Hagrid’s.





Finally, Ron snatched the little owl out of the air and removed the scroll. He opened the note without much enthusiasm and started to read:





Mr. Weasley, please come to the headmaster’s office at your earliest convenience to discuss a matter of some delicacy.

Thank you for your prompt arrival.

Sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore

P.S. I am in the mood for some Cockroach Clusters I think.





Bloody hell, thought Ron. Had things gotten so bad with his Potions work that he really was going to be kicked out of the class or maybe even school altogether? Maybe Harry had told Dumbledore about the fight with Hermione and some of the things he had said about Krum, Bulgarians, Europeans and headmasters in general. Great, Ron said to himself, As if this stupid day, or week, or year wasn’t bad enough already-- now even Dumbledore is out to get me.





Ron walked slowly back towards the entrance hall. Thoughts of using his broom to dive-bomb the lake were still in his mind, but he would at least see what Dumbledore wanted first. He had just started up the stairs when a noise from behind him caught his attention. He turned just in time to see Harry and Ginny exiting an unoccupied classroom. “And the hits just keep on coming,� he muttered, knowing full well what they must have been up to.





He stalked off to Dumbledore’s office. When he reached the gargoyle and said the password, “Cockroach Clusters,� the gargoyle immediately leapt aside. He stepped onto the moving staircase, and silently waited to reach the office. He had only been here once before. That occasion had been unpleasant as well, but at least then the people he cared about hadn’t all thought he was completely useless. He knocked on the door and heard a cheerful, “Enter.� He opened the door and looked in to find Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. He was dressed in yellow robes with small green crescent moons all over them; Ron thought they were the most absurd robes he had ever seen.





Dumbledore sat, looking extremely grave, staring at a large bowl sitting on his desk. Ron thought he already knew what this object was and felt a little surprised that Dumbledore had it out. Does he want me to see some memories of his or something? Ron wondered, his apprehension growing.





“Mr. Weasley, do come in and have a seat, if you please,� Dumbledore said with concern in his voice.





“You wanted to see me, sir,� said Ron, still curious about the sight of the Pensieve on the desk. Maybe he wants to check my memories to see if I have been studying my Potions, Ron thought, with a touch of fear.





Dumbledore looked up from the bowl on his desk with a gentle smile as Ron sat across from him. “Mr. Weasley, how are you feeling today?�





“Fine, sir,� was all Ron could muster, although there was not a bit of truth behind it. Then, since he knew that Dumbledore had a great gift of knowing exactly what his students, teachers, enemies, and the thirteen-year-olds in New Brunswick were thinking, he decided to give up the charade and just tell the truth. “Professor, to be honest, I am pretty miserable. You would think that when the whole wizarding world is excited to finally be free of You-Know-Who, I would manage to feel at least a little good, but I just feel like the world is passing me by. I don’t seem to be doing anything right at the moment, and even my friends are turning away from me.� Ron sat back in the chair with a sigh of resignation. He had been wanting to say that for a few months, but now that he had said it, it just seemed to be worse. It was now a real problem, not just something in his mind.





“Ah, yes, I see; so that is why you have been struggling so much this year. Your friends are very concerned about you, Mr. Weasley-- your marks have suffered, but more importantly than that, you seem to have lost your passion for living. When one stops having a desire to live, and live life to the fullest, then one is no better than a shell. Death may even seem like a better option,� Dumbledore stated matter-of-factly.





“So what if I don’t care if I live or die? So what if all my friends think I have-- what did you say-- lost my passion for living? So what? They all have their lives, and passions, and well, I don’t really amount to much, do I? It probably would have been better if there never was a Ron Weasley.� Ron was now disgusted with everything about Hogwarts, and he was not going to let someone who had no idea what it meant to be just the sidekick tell him about having a passion for living. Passions are all well and good for the hero, but the sidekicks are comic relief, and nothing more. They don’t even get the girl in the end. At least he didn’t.





“Mr. Weasley, do you know what this is?� asked Dumbledore, pointing at the bowl. Ron was sure it was a Pensieve, but why did it matter? He simply shook his head and continued to glare at the old man sitting across from him. “It is a Casu Consulto, for those that think life happens simply by accident. It is much like a Pensieve, except through this you can see what life would be like if someone, in this case you, had never existed. With just one piece of you-- perhaps a bit of hair-- you can see what life would be like if Ron Weasley had never been born.� With that, Dumbledore got up and walked around the desk to where Ron was sitting. “Would you like to see?� asked Dumbledore, looking down his long, crooked nose at Ron.





“Yeah, I think I would. Could I stay there if it’s better than this?� asked Ron, as he pulled a few hairs from the side of his head. The idea of seeing life without Ron Weasley in it to muck things up was appealing to him.





“Well, Mr. Weasley, I am not entirely sure what we will find as we explore an alternate reality, but if you would like to stay, I think we can work something out. Remember, however, that you will not only be changing your life, but the lives of many people around you,� Dumbledore said as he placed the red hairs into the bowl. The liquid inside started to bubble and turned a bright gold, as it began to swirl around into a whirlpool. “Two years should do it, I think,� announced Dumbledore as he tapped the bowl twice with his wand.





“Two years should do what?� cried Ron, who was now starting feel a bit nervous about seeing life in the world without him.





“Why, two years into the future, so that all the ramifications of your absence can be clearly seen. Well, here we go.� And with that Dumbledore and Ron seemed to be picked up by unseen hands, their faces turned to the golden whirlpool, and they plunged into the Casu Consulto.





For a few seconds, Ron had the feeling of being pulled through a block of gold gelatin by the head-- not exactly a comfortable feeling. Then, just as he thought he would be sick, or that his head would pop off, they stopped. Ron looked around to see that he was standing in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The four house tables had been removed; one large table stood in their place. The ceiling was no longer enchanted to look like the night sky, but instead was just a normal ceiling, with Slytherin banners hanging from the rafters.





Has Slytherin won the house cup or something? Ron thought bleakly. But another surprise came from looking at the head table where the professors sat. Severus Snape sat in the headmaster’s chair. Professor McGonagall was not there, nor was Hagrid; in fact, Ron did not recognize any of the other faculty of the school.





Perplexed by this, Ron turned to Dumbledore. “Professor, why is Snape sitting in the headmaster’s chair, and where are all the normal professors, and why are there so few people here, and why is the place decked out in Slytherin colors?� Ron had more questions to ask but decided that this would have to be sufficient for the time being.





“Professor Snape, Mr. Weasley. You see, in this reality, I am no longer headmaster, and the school now will only allow purebloods to study here,� stated Dumbledore, as if this was all perfectly natural and simple to understand. “So you see, there is only one house now at Hogwarts—Slytherin, because, according to those in charge, that is the only house a pureblood would want to be in.�





Just as he was about to ask another set of questions-- starting with what idiot thought that was a good idea-- Ron had perhaps the greatest shock of his life. As he stood there, he saw none other than Harry Potter walk into the room and take a seat next to Snape, who leaned over to Harry with a grin on his face and started talking in a pleasant fashion.





Dumbledore, sensing Ron’s confusion, spoke again, “Oh yes, Harry-- well you see, Mr. Weasley, Harry did not have someone to sit with and talk to during his first trip to Hogwarts, you not being there with him. He was left sitting on the train desperately alone and frightened. By the time Draco Malfoy came and introduced himself to the famous Boy Who Lived, Harry was so desperate for a friend that he immediately jumped at the chance to talk with him. Mr. Malfoy was no fool; he could easily see the advantages of being friends with Harry Potter, so he did everything in his power to gain Harry’s trust. Eventually, the need to fit in and be accepted defeated Harry’s dislike of young Mr. Malfoy, and they became friends. Harry learned all about the wizarding world from him-- what is proper and good, what is helpful, and, most importantly, the people that one should avoid associating with. Harry, having no background in the wizarding community at all, took every word Mr. Malfoy said to be perfectly true. He was sorted into Slytherin house, which pleased him greatly, and he and Mr. Malfoy have been best friends ever since.�





“But Snape hate’s Harry!� Ron exclaimed.





“No, Professor Snape,� Dumbledore emphasized professor, “hated Harry’s dad. What better way to get revenge on his school enemy, then to mold him into someone James Potter would despise.�





Ron’s mind wandered back to a lonely little eleven-year-old boy with glasses sitting on the train. In his mind’s eye he could see child after child walking past his compartment, staring in but not willing to speak to the famous Harry Potter. He could imagine Malfoy being the only one brash enough to introduce himself and manipulative enough to convince Harry he belonged in Slytherin house.





Ron slowly shook his head in wonder, but Dumbledore simply continued his recitation as if nothing out of the ordinary was taking place.





“Granted, Mr. Malfoy was bit put out with Harry when he was chosen to be a champion in the Triwizard Tournament in their fourth year, but he did not let it bother him for long; he eventually helped Harry cheat his way to victory. Yes, Harry has certainly done well for himself considering how difficult that first train ride to Hogwarts was for him. In fact, it was Mr. Malfoy’s father who helped Harry get the position of Dark Arts teacher. Only two years after graduation-- a little soon I would think, but an impressive achievement nonetheless.�





Ron was starting to get irritated by all of this information. “This can’t be right sir. Harry is a good person. I know him too well to believe that he would have chosen the dark side of things just because he was lonely.�





“That is all very true, Mr. Weasley, but you must remember something. Harry had more pressure on him than just being lonely. He was also a Slytherin, and therefore one of Professor Snape’s pet students. Imagine all of these influences pressing upon someone so new to the wizarding world: a rich friend offering guidance, a professor who was quick to lavish praise upon you at every turn, summers at Malfoy Manor. It certainly took a while for all of the pressure to win out, but eventually Harry chose the easy path instead of the right one,� declared Dumbledore, with disappointment on his face.





Ron was incredulous. He was contemplating approaching the staff table and telling Harry exactly what he thought of his choices in friends when a look of realization crossed his face. “Sir,� he asked, “how is it that they are teaching the Dark Arts at Hogwarts? Why aren’t you still headmaster?�





“That, Mr. Weasley, will require us to go to a different location.�





No sooner had Dumbledore spoken the words than the Great Hall at Hogwarts fell away, and that feeling of being pulled by the head came back. Ron then found himself in a backyard that he recognized immediately. He turned around to see the Burrow standing there, lopsided and unstable as ever. When he looked back, however, his eyes caught sight of something that was out of place. Under an old oak tree on top of one of the hills, he saw what looked like a gravestone. Dumbledore started walking toward it and seemed to want Ron to follow. Ron, after some hesitation, started to walk. Why would someone be buried in our backyard? he wondered. When he reached the gravestone and saw what it said, he almost fainted.





Ginevra Molly Weasley

1981-1992

Loved by all who knew her





She was only eleven, thought Ron, tears now beginning to build in his eyes. That can’t be right. What about her and Harry? That was the year the Chamber of Secrets was opened, but she didn’t die then.





As if reading Ron’s mind, Dumbledore once again began to speak, this time with a touch of sadness in his voice. “Mr. Weasley, you and Harry did not go down to the Chamber of Secrets to save her. You, of course, have never existed, and Harry was far too immersed in own his world and work to care about some insignificant first year that came from a blood-traitor family. Her body was never recovered, and the Chamber remained open. Hagrid was sent to Azkaban, and I was asked by the governors to leave Hogwarts for good.





"That is when Professor Snape was given the position of headmaster-- again, with some help from Lucius Malfoy. In fact, it was Lucius who took credit for sealing the Chamber in the end. I believe that Tom Riddle was able to completely regenerate himself and finally grew tired of his attacks on Muggle-born children at the school. He left a short time after Ginny died, and Lucius claimed to have found and sealed the Chamber, all the student were un-petrified and Lucius became a national hero. It was a huge help to him in his campaign to become Minister of Magic, which he did just one year ago.�





It was a good thing that Harry wasn’t present at that moment. Ron was seething with rage. His jealousy of Harry-- for always being the hero and he always the sidekick-- was now being replaced with a hatred the likes of which he had never known.





He closed his eyes as tears began to fall down his pale cheeks. This was just too much for Ron to grasp. He saw images of Ginny playing in this very field, flying her broom, helping win the Quidditch Cup, kissing Harry in the Gryffindor common room. These images were replaced by a small, scared, eleven-year-old Ginny pleading for her life in the Chamber, his family standing around this gravestone, never to see her again.





Ron’s reverie was interrupted by the sound of someone coming. He opened his eyes to see his mother-- at least he thought it was his mother-- kneeling beside the headstone with some freshly cut flowers in her hands. She was far thinner than Ron had ever seen her, and she was pale; there was no life in her face.





Ron started to move to comfort his mother when she looked up, almost directly at him. There was no sign of recognition in her eyes, nor any indication that she even saw him there. She just stared past, with a lost, heart-wrenching expression on her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, each drop splashing onto the flowers she held in her trembling hands.





Ron stood in silence, raging in his mind about how someone he respected, and actually cared for more than a brother, could allow something like this to happen. These thoughts were pushed aside suddenly by a new sensation, one of panic. “Professor, that was the year that Hermione got Petrified by the Basilisk. Is she…?� The words caught in his throat.





“Well, I think one more visit will sort out the rest of that question,� Dumbledore said, and again that pulling feeling overwhelmed Ron.





He landed this time in the middle of Diagon Alley. It was dark, the atmosphere almost sinister-- not at all the type of place that Ron had remembered it being. He looked around and noticed that Fred and George’s shop was not there. Well, that makes sense doesn’t it-- since Harry didn’t give them the money to start it? he thought, a fresh feeling of revulsion rising within him.





Then, as he looked around, he saw mass of bushy brown hair inside one of the shops. He immediately left Dumbledore where he stood, and approached the store. He went inside and saw Hermione standing in front of him, looking puzzled, with a mindless smile on her face. She was picking up random items and throwing them at customers, giggling fiendishly as she did so.





“Get out! Get out you stupid Mudblood creature! Get out before I contact the Ministry!� shouted the shop owner. Hermione, without so much as a second look at Ron, dashed out of the shop, tossing the rest of her handful into the air, laughing stupidly as she ran. Ron started to run after her, but was stopped by Dumbledore’s raised hand.





“Don’t follow her, Mr. Weasley. She can’t see you, and she would not recognize you even if she could see you. You have never been born, remember?� Dumbledore said gently. Ron was horrified; he had never seen Hermione with such a vacant and maniacal look in her eyes. Judging by the smell, she had not bathed in a very long time, and Ron vaguely wondered if she had been sent to Azkaban or something.





“What happened?� he whispered, still trying to catch a glimpse of Hermione in the distance.





“Viktor Krum happened,� said Dumbledore, this time with a hint, not of sadness, but anger. “She met Viktor during the Triwizard Tournament, of course, and they went to the Yule Ball together. Well, in her seventh year the Ministry passed the law saying that only purebloods would be allowed to attend Hogwarts, and then she received an invitation to go to Durmstrang and study with Mr. Krum for her last year. She gladly accepted, because, at that point, there was really nothing to keep her at Hogwarts. She had no real friends to speak of and no one she really cared for at all. Of course, she and Harry were the bitterest of enemies, so she left.





“Things went well for Miss Granger and Mr. Krum for the next year or so. She finished her studies and earned eleven “Outstandings� on her N.E.W.T.s. After graduation, she went back to Bulgaria to visit Mr. Krum, who was getting ready for the next World Cup. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but they had a pretty nasty falling out. However, Mr. Krum is not one to let his possessions go too easily. When Hermione refused to stay with him, he decided to take away the one true source of joy she had ever known. He performed a Dark charm on her that took away her ability to think past the level of a four-year-old, shipped her back to London, and dumped her here in Diagon Ally. Her parents don’t know where she is, so they have not been able to help. Some of the shopkeepers have tried to assist her, and St. Mungo’s has been involved to some degree, but since she is not a pureblood, no one really tries very hard to help.�





Ron was at a complete loss. He caught sight of Hermione a couple of times, and with each passing moment his heart ached more and more for the girl with the bushy hair and all the brains in the world. He couldn’t imagine Hermione without her mind. He had always seen such beauty in the way she could put the pieces together so easily. It was a part of her he had loved since their first year. Now, she was not even a shell of her former self. She was completely lost, and it was his fault.





He watched as she continued her way down the busy street. She knocked over a couple as she ran around with no real direction. He saw her get cornered by a small gang of teenage boys, and she was tormented mercilessly.





Finally the sight of her was too much for Ron to bear, and he had to turn away.





“So, Ron, what shall we do-- stay or go?� Dumbledore asked brightly, as if this was obviously the next question to ask.





Ron, who was on the verge of emotional collapse, panicked and lost all composure. “Stay? Are you mad? If I stay here, all this is going to happen-- my friends and family are going to be destroyed, and the girl I love is going to suffer in ways I can’t even imagine. You must be off your rocker!� Ron was shaking as he spoke, eyes closed, tugging on Professor Dumbledore’s robes, without seeing anything around him.





“Ahem,� coughed Dumbledore, “Mr. Weasley, please have a look around,� he said kindly, waving an arm around the room. Ron looked up, tears slipping from his eyes. They were back, standing in Dumbledore’s office, the whirling and clicking noises going off in the background. Some of the portraits of past headmasters were snorting their disapproval of a student “handling� the headmaster in the fashion that Ron was handling Dumbledore.





Ron’s eyes widened for an instant, then he slumped back into a chair. The emotional toll of this little tour of what might have been was more then he could bear at the moment.





Dumbledore sat in a chair next to Ron. He looked at Ron with a great deal of sympathy in his eyes, and then said, “Ron, do you see just how important you are? We all make a difference in this life, and none of us is useless. Harry needed you to help him start down the right path in the wizarding world. Ginny needed you to stand with Harry and help him discover, and finally close, the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione needed you to be her friend, and to be a reason for her to stay at Hogwarts.�





These words seemed to elicit quite a change in Ron’s demeanor. “She is still going to Bulgaria!� he shouted at no one in particular. He jumped to his feet, and made for the door. Stopping just short of it and turning to Dumbledore, he said, “Thanks, Professor…�





“Don’t mention it, Mr. Weasley. It was my pleasure. Oh, and I would make for the front doors, if I were you; you only have a couple of minutes.�





Ron was down the spiral staircase and past the gargoyle before the door closed. He used some well worn shortcuts and arrived at the entrance hall in less than two minutes. Here, he saw Harry and Ginny, disappointment on both their faces





“Where have you been? Hermione just left, and I think she was crying because you weren’t here,� Ginny spat at him as he raced passed.





“Can’t talk… have to get… could kill you Harry… but have to see Hermi…,� Ron shouted, as he ran through the front doors.





“What did he just say about killing me or something?� asked a very perplexed Harry. He and Ginny started for the front doors. Ron had now leaped down the steps in front of the castle, and found himself some fifty yards behind Hermione. “Hermione, stop! Wait! I have to tell you something!� Ron yelled.





Hermione stopped and turned, tears streaking down her face. Then, she turned again and started to run for the gates; she obviously did not want to hear anything Ronald Weasley had to say at that moment.





Ron, however, had a lot to say and grabbed her shoulder as he easily caught up to her. Now, as they both stood, out of breath, looking each other in the eye, all the things Ron had thought to say seemed to leave him. He just stared at her.





Hermione, still crying, but defiant and dignified as ever, looked at Ron with a fierce sort of expression. “Well, what is so important?� She was growing angrier as he just stood there holding her shoulders, but not saying anything.





“St-stay. I want you to stay, here at Hogwarts,� he croaked, still feeling a bit dazed by all that he had just seen and done.





“Why? So you can just continue being horrible to me? I told you to give me one good reason to stay, or leave me alone.� With that, she started to pull away from Ron.





“Stay for ME.� His voice was little more then a whisper, but she seemed to have heard it. Her eyes softened immediately, and she stopped struggling to pull free from Ron’s grasp. Tears again began to well up in her eyes, and Ron took her in his arms and embraced her, smelling her hair and feeling the warmth of her breath on his neck.





This was the Hermione that he knew-- the one that he loved.





As they walked hand in hand back to the castle, they passed Harry and Ginny, who looked dumbstruck. “Well, I guess you two have finally worked everything out,� Harry said.





“Yeah, life seems pretty wonderful now,� beamed Ron, and he walked Hermione back up the castle steps, just as the bell in the clock tower chimed the two o’clock hour. “Yes, being the sidekick is a pretty wonderful job after all.�



+++++++++



A/N Hope like it, please read and review. Good or bad I want to know what you all think. Huge thanks for my wife who encouraged me to keep working on this when I was struggling with submission stuff and to my betas JenC and Potterfile12 for all the work they did making this a readable and interesting story. Thanks ladies.