An Agonized Realization of the Least Loved of the Mother Who Craved a Daughter.
or
Realization of the Least Loved.
Ron's hearts desire was no longer to be Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. No. It changed after the war. For a while, he didn't know what it was. But when he, Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the students who would have been in their seventh year when the Death Eaters took over had been invited back to Hogwarts, Ron took to wandering the halls after hours. His status as a prefect had been restored, so he was safe to do so as he wished.
It was on one such voyage that he stumbled upon the Room of Requirement once again. Curiosity piqued, he entered, only to find a small circular room, walls unadorned and ceiling domed. And in the center of the simple room was a mirror. A very familiar mirror. He remembered briefly what he saw the very first time he looked into the mirror, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. A time before they had to deal with Voldemort. A time when everything was alright.
With trepidation, he advanced, not looking into the mirror until he was right in front of it. It took all of his Gryffindor bravery to tear his eyes away from his feet and look at the picture that was painted before him. It took him a second to realize what was wrong with it, but when he finally did, he nearly shattered the Mirror of Erised. He shook his head furiously, muttering no repeatedly, retreating from the image that disturbed him so. But the person missing did not appear. His mom and dad were still smiling at him. Bill and Charlie were playfully nudging each-other with their shoulders. Percy was watching them and shaking his head, small smile on his face. And then there was Fred and George, draped over him, teasing him probably, knowing them. But it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Ginny was missing. His sister, the one his mother wanted so much that she had six sons trying for her. And she was missing.
He sank down until he was sitting in front of the mirror, staring, but not seeing. He felt the bile rise in his throat, but swallowed it down. He would confront this part of him. He wouldn't run away. He'd fought Death Eaters, for Merlin's sake. He could handle the truth about himself. He focused on the mirror again. The family was still happily oblivious to the dilemma he was having, though they did sit when he did. He took a shuddering breath, just now realizing his cheeks were damp. Wiping them away, he was glad no one was here to see him. But he had to focus on what this meant about him. He would come to terms with this. Just as he came to terms with the after-effects of the war. Maybe not tonight, but he would find it out.
He stood slowly, and walked out of the room. He cast a long look at the mirror once more before closing the door, vowing to return the next night.
He returned every night after that for an entire two weeks before coming to a revelation. He didn't realize it in front of the mirror, but rather at the breakfast table, when Ginny sat next to Harry and gave him a quick kiss before starting eating. He dropped his fork in shock, startling Hermione into lecturing him for his lack of manners. He was too disgusted with himself to care. His deepest, darkest desire was that he wished Ginny had died instead of Fred. Muttering an excuse, he left the others to their breakfast. He couldn't subject them to his perversion. He couldn't get over how sick he was. He couldn't let them know.
A/N: This horrible story idea pounced on me while browsing some images. One of them featured a picture of Ginny, with her eyes covered by a white banner. In the banner were the words "I wish Ginny had died instead of Fred." I sat there, stunned by the realization that it sounded reasonable. I actually felt guilty for a second, and that made me wonder how would Ron react if he realized that not only did he wish that, it was one of his deepest desires. So I wrote this.