This is my first time publishing any of my stories, so bear with me. If they need improving, let me know so I can get better at it. That doesn't mean you can say anything hurtful. I know everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but if it's something mean, keep it to yourself. There is a difference between helpful and constructive criticism and hurtful and destructive criticism.

By the way, it's gonna be somewhat AU.

Thank you! ^_^.

Oh, before I forget. The Idea is mine, but I'm just borrowing J.K Rowling's work to make it happen, so don't sue me, kay? ^_^.

Legend:

Thoughts

Shouting

Normal

A dream is wish, or is it a nightmare?

Chapter 1

As the first year Gryffindor boys prepare themselves for bed, one in particular ponders what life was like for the great Harry Potter away from school.

"I bet he gets to lounge around all day and do anything he wants. I bet he even gets a new broom if he breaks one".

Growing up in the shadow of five older brothers is pressuring, but for one Ronald Billius Weasley, it also leads to immense jealousy. After seeing Harry awarded for the protection of the Philosophers stone, he could not help but feel as if though Harry could get away with almost anything.

As he laid down to sleep, one thought echoed in his mind as he drifted off.

"I wish I was Harry Potter, even if it was just for the summer".

No one noticed the tiny light that floated above Ron's bed, or the swirl of light that swapped him with Harry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~Next Morning~ ~ ~ ~

Ron stretches as he feels himself being shaken awake.

"Come on Harry. We leave an hour after breakfast, and I don't want to get in trouble with McGonagall again."

Not hearing a response from his best mate, Ron opens his eyes, only to jerk forward and rub them as he realised that everything looked blurry.

"Take it easy there. Here, your glasses."

Putting them on, Ron looks up into what he assumes is a mirror. Until the mirror opens its mouth.

"You okay there Harry? Should I get McGonagall in case you're not feeling well?"

Stumbling out of bed to find a mirror, Ron heads to the bathroom. The expression on his face as he stares at himself is one of awe.

'Ron' pokes his head in around the corner of the bathroom door. "Hey Harry, you sure you're okay?"

Hoarsely, Ron reassures his doppelganger "I'm fine, just had a weird dream."

Somewhat reassured, the doppelganger nods then heads back to the dorm room.

With a million things flying around in his head, one thought stuck out the most. "I'm Harry Potter, my wish came true!"

With that revelation in mind, Ron hurry's out to get ready for breakfast and finds that a set of clothes had already been set out and his things packed, so he bathes, dresses, then trots down to eat before boarding the train.

Arriving at the breakfast table, Ron begins to boast about what happened the previous night, and doesn't realise that he was beginning to annoy his fellow housemates.

"Ron and Hermione were there with you too Harry, but you don't hear them bragging about it."

Turning to his left, Ron finds the speaker to be one of the Weasley twins. Even now Ron still couldn't tell them apart. "Well that's because they didn't really do much".

Hearing this, Hermione got up and slapped him on his right cheek. "You know what Potter? You're a real prat." With that she stormed off to the tower with tears in her eyes. The other Gryffindors shook their heads and moved away from the area around Ron.

"What's the problem, I was just telling the truth?"

Hermione slapping Ron had drawn the attention of the entire hall, and had Snape prowling towards them to get one final belittling in before they left. "What's this, Potter? Celebrity status failing you?"

And with the famous temper that the Weasleys were known for, Ron erupted. "What's it to ya, you greasy git!?"

The scowl on Snape's face deepened, but before he could really lay into Ron, McGonagall stepped up and dispersed the imminent argument. "That is quite enough, Mr. Potter, do run along so that you don't miss the train," and turning to Snape, "and you stop harassing my lions."

Sneering, Snape turned away to check on his own students while Ron walked off to the carriages.

No one from Gryffindor wanted to share a carriage with him, so he shared with a group of Ravenclaw girls. When the carriage arrived at the station, and the girls left the carriage in a huff, Ron emerged rumpled and bruised.

Not wanting to get a crappy compartment, Ron waved off what happened and hurried onto the train. Finding an empty compartment. Ron sets Hedwig's cage down a little roughly, and she hooted, upset with her handling. "Sorry, geez. Calm down". "Even the owl doesn't understand how important I am."

The entire train ride was spent by himself and getting off at King's Cross, a flash of recognition informed him of who the overweight, red faced man glaring at him was.

"Why is he glaring at me?" "Hey Uncle Vernon, where's Aunt Petunia". His confusion deepened when Vernon's face turned a rather interesting shade of deep purple.

Making sure that no one was looking, Vernon grabbed the boy roughly by the arm and led him and his trolley to the car waiting for them. Throwing in the items none too gently, Vernon then threw a protesting Ron into the car.

Turning around, Vernon gave a rather heated glare and began to lay down the law. "Now listen here freak, while you're here there better not be any funny business or else you'll get what's coming to you."

Never being threatened before, Ron doesn't heed the warning and sets himself up for a harsh summer. "What are you gonna do about it? I'm the great Harry Potter, I don't have to listen to you."

Vernon's face, that had paled a little, once more turned a deep shade of purple and he gritted his teeth. Turning back around, he reminded himself that he couldn't do anything to the brat while in public with the other freaks around. Driving off he warned Ron once more, "That school of freaks might see you as something important, but you better remember what your real place is boy."

Something in the way Vernon said it hit a sleeping nerve in the brash Gryffindor's head that warned him not to press the man. The drive home was a silent ride that had an air of dread that did not sit well with the displaced redhead.