Voldemort's body was clasped in his arms.
That was the only sensation Ron felt as he dove into the Veil. He saw his surroundings change into darkness instantly, nothing felt real anymore. Still alive or not? He had no idea.
But there was peace and calm for he had done what he wanted to. Voldemort's real body, the only one left, was in that dark purgatory. He hoped his consciousness would fade away in time, same for the Dark Lord's.
Ugh, I promised to go see Fleur again tonight.
There were regrets for sure. It felt shameful that finally when he was ready to take responsibility for his actions, his time was over. He finally looked forward to marrying Fleur and having a family with her. Caring for his boy with Amelia too.
But it was all gone now.
In time, he lost his grip. Now, it was all him, floating in that darkness alone. He waited for death to come, and he waited desperately.
What's going on?
It didn't arrive. He hoped for it to be quick, but he still felt completely conscious and in control of his thoughts. It was still dark all around him.
Where the hell am I?
"Hello!"
I can hear my voice!
"Hello? Anybody? Voldemort?"
Ron feared that Voldemort was still alive. If that was the case, he needed to kill the Dark Wizard for good.
"Here!"
Ron heard a voice just then. But it didn't belong to Voldemort as far as he knew. However, he still followed that voice, or at least tried to. He had no control over himself, suspended in the dark void. But if he willed himself to move, he felt he could float in that direction.
"Come here!"
Ron followed that voice with devotion.
Closer and closer before finally noticing a white dot in the distance. It grew like the light at the end of a tunnel and before he knew it, he passed right through it.
Thud!
Hard floor?!
He fell on something, face first and flat. Everything was white—so white that his eyes clenched shut instinctively. He tried to open them quickly but the whiteness around was overwhelming.
"Easy there. Takes some time."
"Hm?" Ron raised his bruised face and looked. The vision returned to normal but it remained blurry. However, he saw a massive crowd in front of him, at least thirty or fifty people. But they were all similarly shaped.
In a few seconds, the vision cleared up. But Ron rubbed his eyes many times.
"S-Sirius? One, two… F-Fourty-five Sirius? Bloody hell!"
It was exactly what he saw. Almost fifty Sirius Black, all in different clothes but their faces were the same.
"W-What's going on? Where is this place? Who are you?"
"I'm Sirius Black."
When so many of them spoke at the same time, their voices echoed.
Ron frowned deeply. Am I hallucinating? Why am I still alive?
"How is this possible?" He asked.
"Why are you here?" One of the Sirius asked back. "What happened to your Sirius Black?"
"My Sirius Black? What does that even mean?"
"Why didn't he get pushed into the veil? Why is it you?" The Sirius Black asked.
Ron scratched his head, eyes narrowing as he tried to piece it all together. It was clear now that he was indeed inside the Veil, at the very least. "I don't know what you're saying. We battled Voldemort and his five clones in the Ministry. He killed Harry, so I jumped at Voldemort and dived into the Veil with him. Sirius is back outside."
"Oh!" Another Sirius Black exclaimed. "An anomaly. He's the first one!"
"What first one?" Ron finally stood up. "And where is Voldemort? I jumped in with him!"
"That guy?"
A bunch of Sirius Black stepped aside, revealing the mangled, beaten, broken body of Voldemort. Arms and legs, every limb was twisted like it was a knot on someone's birthday present. It appeared Voldemort arrived much earlier than Ron.
"Let's just kill him." Ron openly suggested and took out his wand. He was grateful that he still had it.
"Easy there, badass Ron. We're not done playing with him yet." A Sirius Black exclaimed while grinning at Voldemort and cracking his knuckles. "I wanted to do this for so long. Finally, you brought us this gift."
"Aye!"
"True!"
"Count me in!"
The hoard responded.
It all felt so unreal that Ron just sat down on the ground again. In a way, he was disappointed that he wasn't dead. There was nothing left to do anyway. Harry was dead, Dumbledore was dead, Moody was dead, and it was all his plan from the start.
"Hey, bud."
Ron looked up. It was one of the Sirius Black. Somehow, this one didn't have any tattoos on him. In fact, he had short hair and a very kind-looking face. His clothes were also very clean and formal.
Sirius Black sat down beside him and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. All of us here are from different versions of the same world. All of us had one thing in common—Harry Potter never dies. On the night Voldemort killed Harry's parents, Voldemort made Harry a Horcrux too—not by choice. So, in every world, when Voldemort kills Harry for the first time, only the Horcrux inside gets killed, and Harry lives."
"Then Harry is alive?!" Ron beamed up excitedly. "Are you sure?"
"You'll have to tell us about your life first. What's your story? Look around, you're the only Ron Weasley here. Something must have gone differently."
At that, many more Sirius Black came over and sat around him. A few were still beating Voldemort, however.
Finally, Ron sighed and started his story. He reckoned that things in his life changed the day he drank that potion in Snape's lab. So, he began everything from there.
From the Triwizard Tournament to the ambush on him in the forest. From his other exploits to the Greengrass Manor incident, finally leading up to the Ministry battle. He still hid the part about Madam Bones and his son but revealed the Fleur and other girls' story.
Surprisingly, each one of the Sirius Black there looked proud of him.
"Snivellus made something that good?"
"You shagged half of the school? Even your astronomy teacher?!"
"You got a daughter?!"
"Ah, poor Hermione."
"You killed how many Death Eaters? That's fantastic!"
Ron just smiled. They're crazier than I expected. How are all Sirius Black this way?
"Harry is most certainly alive." Said the Sirius Black from before. "The five clones were the five Horcruxes. You killed Voldemort for good, Ron."
"I did?" Ron looked at Voldemort's body. "But it's not done yet."
"Don't worry about that. We have enough time." The nicer Sirius Black said and looked at his fellow doppelgangers. "I'm sure everyone here will agree to unanimously choose you now."
"For what?" Ron asked back.
"To send you back." Sirius black revealed. "We need fifty souls to do it. For ages, we've been tearing each other apart, trying to decide which one of us should go—knowing the rest will fade away. But now, it's not one of us. So, there's nothing left to argue about."
"It makes sense. He's got a family waiting for him. We got nothing," another Sirius said.
Eventually, all of the Sirius Blacks joined in.
Ron felt slightly emotional. "Thank you… All of you."
"Don't be too quick with your thanks. We've still got five more to go, and it's going to take a while. It's bad for you since time moves differently here. By the time you return, who knows how many years may have slipped by outside."
"WHAT?!"
####
Indeed, years did pass.
Two years went by and the memories of the Battle of the Veil were still fresh for many. But after mourning, everyone had to return to their work. No matter the sorrow, time never stopped, and the demise of Voldemort and his supporters was an opportunity that had to be seized to ensure something similar could never occur again.
Harry and Hermione returned to school for their final years. But they lacked the spirit they had before. The full hallways, the tables, and the rooms felt empty and depressing. Ron's bed in the dorm never got occupied again by anyone.
His seat in the classroom was never taken by anyone.
A place for him to sit at the Great Hall during breakfast, lunch, and dinner was always kept.
Ron Weasley was never forgotten. Every start of the new term began with remembering him. A name to remind the new students what the price of freedom was.
Before they knew it, the seventh year came to an end. Harry and Hermione walked through the giant arch of the main entrance of the school castle, heading to the boats. But, the two paused in their steps and looked behind at the school's gate.
Not having Ron's sarcastic remarks around was depressing.
"Hermione, I don't want people to forget Ron," Harry muttered, hands clenching. He felt he owed his life to Ron.
Hermione nodded and agreed. "I feel the same."
______________________
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