Feedback: please do, I'm grateful for it always.

Notes: This explores Ron's POV from the time frame of my previous story "Winter" (so winter should probably be read first) It also precedes "Love Remains" (even though they were written in a totally different order) Once again, I'm really trying to break a writer's block.

Disclaimer: I'm not JKR, and she likes it that way I'm sure.

Pain.

I gasp, my entire body feels as if it is on fire. And I do believe there must be a hippogriff sitting on my chest... For a moment, maybe a million, all I know is the agony that's rippling through my body.

Danger. The attack. Our defense. Thoughts tumble out, one on top of the next. It's hazy. Unsure. I can't breathe, gasping for air as I try to remember, to force myself to recall exactly what happened...

Harry!

The air is ripped from my lungs. I have no doubt he knows something's wrong. He always does somehow. Suddenly the pain is pushed aside -- if only for a second -- by the thought that I want him anywhere but here. He and danger have too mixed a history together for him to take yet another chance.

Not for me. That's not why I did this.

There's a noise off to my left, hardly noticeable over my own heaving breath. I try and concentrate, not really succeeding, but finally making out the sound of shuffled feet. When I try and turn my head toward the sound, surprised to find myself afraid now, I hear, "No, no. Stay still, young one."

I vaguely recognize the voice of a healer, one I do not know very well. I believe he was a sixth year Ravenclaw when I was brand new at Hogwarts. He called me young. I don't feel young, rather I feel so very old suddenly. Hogwarts feels like a very long time ago.

There's another pressure on my chest, it takes a bit to realize that it's the healer's hand. He mutters a curse, almost silently, and my tortured breathing slows. I find myself grateful, for it helps the pain in my chest to lessen, if even only a bit.

"Can you open your eyes?" the voice asks. Oddly, I find myself compelled to try.

They're barely open a crack when he speaks again. "Good, good. You're doing well." Even though I can hardly see him, I know he is lying. Strangely, the thought doesn't bring another round of panic. I can only wonder what spell it was he just performed.

Yet, knowing all that, I want to reply. I need to ask all of the questions floating in my mind, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I try and move it, to form words, but my lips barely even open.

"Here now." At the words, he places a goblet to my lips. A small sigh escapes as the cool water slips into my mouth. Without much thought, I close my eyes again.

Trying to take a deep breath only reminds me of the agony that has become my body. The pain that fills my world. Somehow I manage, the healer tut-tutting over me all the while.

"How long?"

There is a prolonged silence, so long I wonder if I've began to doze in the interim. "Two days." I start at the uttered words, which causes me to wince. "You shouldn't worry with such things now, Ron," he says.

My eyes fly open -- as if of their own accord. There is something in his voice that makes me uneasy. "What's wrong? The others?"

"No, no," he hurries to assure me. "The others, while some were injured, will be fine."

Relief washes over me. Maybe my gamble paid off after all. "And the others? Those who attacked?"

"Gone."

The word has barely sunk in when I whisper, "The Ministry?"

The healer rubs a hand over his eyes. "Can be rebuilt, young one." I open my mouth to continue, but he places a hand over it. "Now you must rest, if you are to get better." He mutters under his breath, and I barely have time to recognize the sleeping spell before I am pulled under and away from the pain.

~<>~<>~

I wake sometime later, but only for a bit. The healer seems determined to make me sleep. I can see the concern on his face, even as he tries to convince me otherwise.

"We've gotten word from the fellows over in America. Harry is on his way," he tells me several moments later.

There's a sharp intake of breath, it's a second before I realize it's me. And that's only because suddenly I'm coughing and can't stop. Why doesn't the pain go away? Why isn't he doing anything?

"No!" I finally say, after the coughing has passed.

The healer looks confused. "But, it was thought you would want him here. Just as much as he wants to be here, I have no doubt."

Shaking my head roughly side to side, I try to breathe. "No. It's not safe for him."

"It's perfectly safe here, young one." He places a hand on my arm and I flinch. He must notice, for he says, "I am sorry about the pain. There's just too much damag...."

My eyes drag open as his words die, his face devoid of color. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I prop up on my elbows as best I can, trying to see what's become of me.

I had believed him to be lying before. Seeing myself, I knew it to be fact.

Oh, Harry. Please don't have to see me like this.

"Obdormio protinus."

I bite back a curse as I fall victim once more to the healer's spell and soft touch on my forehead.

~<>~<>~

The room is dark when I wake again. I manage to look around, wondering what has happened. Has anything changed?

A young girl slips into the room, and I stare at her quietly. She must thought me to have been asleep, for she starts when I clear my throat.

"I'm sorry to wake you," she whispers.

I shake my head, or try to, at any rate. No need to be scaring apprentices if I can help it. "You are..."

She blushes, and I almost smile. It's been quite sometime since there was anything to smile about. "Isabelle."

I nod, just a bit. "Are you well, Bella?"

Again she looks surprised. "Yes, Mr. Weasley."

I can't help it, I almost laugh. I would, if it didn't hurt so damn much. "Ron. Mr. Weasley is my father."

"Ron." She smiles faintly. The girl can't be a year or two away from Hogwarts, if appearances were right. "I'm assisting Healer Jameson, apprenticing to be a Healer myself."

Of course she would be. I have to wonder where my brain has escaped to, then again... I try to smile, but I have no doubt it appears as more of a grimace. "And the others?"

Looking nervous, she clutches a stack of blankets to her chest. "Some are hurt, but improving."

A strange feeling of d�j� vu filters over me, but I brush it aside. Memories of before are hazy at best, and I had to know. Could it be we escaped so easily? At such a small cost?

I must have said the words out loud, for Bella gasps. "Easily?" There is the bright glint of tears in her eyes as she adds, "It was not so easy. Nor so cheap."

"But you said..." A headache is pounding at my temples, only compacted by the confusion her words cause.

She sniffs, eyes wide and unblinking. "It was a noble thing you did."

I would protest, but the elder healer appears over her shoulder with a displeased look on his face. "Rest, young one."

Funny, I don't even argue anymore.

~<>~<>~

Whispered words. Man. Girl.

...not long now...

...have they found him?

...no...yet...

...i'm afraid...slipping...

Flickering light.

A soft knocking sound.

I fight against the dredges of sleep, wanting to be awake. Needing to be awake. A soft hand is suddenly laid against my forehead and I take a quick breath.

"Calm, young one."

Finally I am able to see, recognizing the healer from before. I search his face, looking for answers that aren't there.

Is everyone safe? Are the attackers gone? Did it work? Where's Harry?

He must see my confusion, for he smiles softly. "All is well, Ron. Rest."

I swallow thickly. His words tumble around, not truly making any sense. Everything is fuzzy, even the man's face.

"Harry?"

My whisper earns a sad smile. The hand is again on my head, petting softly. "He's on his way."

I nod. At least I think I do. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

~<>~<>~

Floating. I'm floating. Why am I floating? Some sort of prank, perhaps? Or perhaps I am merely asleep and dreaming. Yes, that must be it. I'm dreaming.

"Ron?"

I flinch. Who's voice would be calling to me while I'm asleep? I ignore it, instead snuggling over onto my side. Suddenly the pain is everywhere.

My eyes are open, and I find myself staring not at the ceiling of my chambers but another, darkened room. Even with the pain I'm floating... Everything is grey, not focusing.

"Can you hear me, Ron?" The strange voice is persistent. I wonder what's happened. My head lolls to the side, and an unfamiliar face swims into view.

I feel drunk, too much celebrating at the... What? Why might I be drunk... My brow knits in confusion. Why is the man looking at me with such worry on his face?

"Ron." A hand gently shakes my shoulder, tendrils of pain slicking down my arm.

I squint, why won't anything come into focus... "Wha...?" I manage to ask around shallow breaths. Why can't I breathe? Where am I? What is happening? Why won't he tell me?

The man sighs, a small, sad sound. "Oh, young one..."

My eyes droop closed. Young? Am I at Hogwarts?

Where's Harry? I need him.

~<>~<>~

Harry? Where are you? Why is it so dark?

I hurt, oh how I hurt.

The chess set. Did I beat it? Did we save the sorcerer's stone?

Ginny... Is she safe? Did you save her from You-Know-Who? Don't leave me with Lockhart, Harry...

No! I don't want to go into the Whomping Willow... Blasted git of a dog! What? How? Your godfather...

Harry... Where are you. I need you.

~<>~<>~

I gasp. I remember where I am. And why. I open my eyes, trying to see but I can't. It's all dark, faded away. Strangely enough, I'm more numb than panicked. Could it be that you could accept to die? If so, I think I did before we staged that last defense.

Faint noises echo around me, the healer that has watched over me I'm sure.

It's almost over. I can feel it now. Lying in wait around me. Soon the pain will finally be gone. I find myself looking forward to it.

Two thoughts keep me tied to this bed, this pain. Harry. I need to see Harry one last time. I have to say goodbye. Tell him what these years -- this life together -- have meant to me.

I wish he didn't have to see me like this, but if he must surely it should be while I'm here to see him as well. Though I cannot see, I feel the bitter burn of tears in my eyes. I will miss many of my friends, my family. But he's the one who I'll be incomplete without.

I hope this isn't too hard on him. Then again, he's Harry Potter. He'll bounce back, I'm certain of it. It's part of who he is. Only for a bit I was along for the journey.

Its strange -- surreal -- to be so aware of your own death, and so calm in the face of it. I can hear muffled noises from the corridors around me, but pay them little mind. I can feel my own breathing leveling out, shallow and sparse.

There's a voice then, out in the hall... "Isabelle, bring him here, quickly."

Could it be Harry, come to see me off? I wait, only to be met with disappointment. No, it couldn't be. I begged them to keep him away. Didn't I?

The heavy weight on my chest seems lighter now. The dull sounds more distant. Perhaps I'll go back to sleep. Rest...

~<>~<>~

It's the blink of an eye. The span of a moment. Or, to some, the passage of years. All of these and more have passed before I finally look upon my friend again. He's standing there, in the middle of a steady rain as though oblivious to it's presence.

That's not to say I don't know some of what's happened since I've been gone. I know my friend is on his way to Hogwarts. Dumbledore's heir apparent. I smile at that thought. Imagine, Harry leading the school. Oh the trouble once caused together...

For the time being, as he stands in silence, I am grateful to merely drink in the sight of him. It's been so long now. Far too long. And I've missed him.

I find myself smiling and sad at the same time. Reaching out a hand, I almost touch him but don't. I can't touch him, I know this.

For a bit, he stares off into the distance. I wonder what it is he sees there. For that instant, I wish he would see me. That he could see me. But there will a place for that in time.

Something comes to mind then, an old saying maybe, and I feel compelled to share it with him, even though he might never know. "I'm the shadow on the ground. The moonlight streaming down. I'm the whisper in the wind. And I'll be there till the end."

The unheard words hang between us, as if suspended in the mist.

"I miss you." His words don't surprise me, somehow.

I smile. "I miss you, too. But I'm already there."

End

"I'm already there
Don't make a sound
I'm the beat in your heart
I'm the moonlight shining down
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there till the end
Can you feel the love that we share?
Oh, I'm already there.

We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you
Wherever you are."