It was the thing he coveted most. And it was there, right in front of him. Only inches away, in fact. So easy it would be to reach out and grab it, anything to feel its power between his own fingers. Never mind what the morally right thing was, never mind what had happened moments before in the Great Hall. If he could hold the Elder Wand and cast a single spell, it could all be his.

It had been over seven years since his first untruth with his best friend. Standing there, looking into the Mirror of Erised, he had told Harry a lie. His eleven eleven-year-old self hadn't thought so – then it had only seemed like leaving out part of a story. But his eighteen-year-old self knew better; knew that omitting the truth was as good as lying.

"I am – I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to – and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup – I'm Quidditch captain too!"(1)

What he hadn't told Harry was that this image of himself showed one other thing – Ron Weasley holding the Elder Wand. He had heard stories in his childhood, the old tales his mother told, of how the first brother had commissioned the most powerful wand in the world to conquer death, of how he won every battle he sought. It mattered not to Ronald that the wand had eventually become the man's undoing – "It was his own fault, really, he ought to have been more careful," he thought to himself.

Ron had forgotten about that night by a fortnight after (as he, Harry, and Hermione had been preoccupied by the Sorcerer's Stone) until that one afternoon years later at the Lovegood's. Of course as soon as Xenophilius had mentioned the Tale of the Three Brothers, the memories and thoughts of grandeur came flooding back. He barely listened while Hermione read the story aloud, instead dreaming of what he could accomplish if he could have the Elder Wand. His dreams only intensified when Luna's father had explained that he who held the Hallows would be the "master of Death." If he, Ronald Weasley, could be the one master of death, perhaps he could end Voldemort's terrible power. He, instead of Harry, could be The Chosen One.

When Harry expressed interest in the Hallows, Ron had quickly tried to steer him clear of the Deathstick by reciting an old saying, "Wand of Elder, never prosper," and explaining the wands made from Elder were unlucky. Though it didn't seem that Harry was at all convinced, Ron was distracted too by how easily Dumbledore's instructions aligned with the quest for the Hallows. He and Harry discussed it endlessly, until Hermione had pulled Ron aside, reminding him of their true purpose – to find and destroy the Horcruxes. It was at this point that he realized again how unhelpful it would be to have Harry lust after the Elder Wand as much as he.

Throughout the rest of the year Ron weeded through Harry's comments and visions, vainly trying to find a path to the Elder Wand on his own. Every few months, however, he would let his excitement shine through. At Shell Cottage he had nearly betrayed himself when Harry revealed that Dumbledore has been the most recent owner of the wand.

"But then, let's go!" he had said. Realizing his mistake, he quickly added, "Harry, let's go and get it before he does!"(2) With this last comment he was able to relax a little. His best friend could think that his only interest in the wand was to acquire it before Voldemort. He needn't understand that Ron wanted it to finally beat Harry, to beat everyone…

And now, here it was, right in front of him, in the hand of his best friend. Harry had been able to finish Voldemort without it. But Ron could still have it. Would it matter if he had to curse Harry to get what he wanted? Maybe not… with the Elder Wand he could have everything, and Harry would still want to be his friend, as he had been Harry's all these years. Hermione… she would still want him, wouldn't she? His mind made up, he pulled his wand from beneath his robes, not listening to what Harry was saying to Dumbledore's portrait. It was, after all, the thing he coveted most.

[b]A/N:

(1) from Harry Potter and the Sorcer's Stone, by J.K. Rowling

(2) from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, by J.K. Rowling