A/N: For the equally shameless peer pressuring hussy, Paula who requested a Ron/Ginny everyone dies!AU. I doubt this is what you had in mind, but here you go. Warning for light, implied Weasleycest, death, suicide, and general fucked upness.
I.
Harry is there, grinning as he always does. But this is different. There is no light in his expression, no softness.
"'Bout time you got here," he says. "It's been lonely without you."
For several seconds, Ron can only stare in silent shock, his mouth open, and his eyes wide with confusion. "But you..."
Harry doesn't seem to realize Ron has spoken. He extends his hand, twisted grin still in place. "Can't go on without my best mate, can I?"
And then Ron wakes, covered in a cold sweat.
II.
"I saw Harry last night."
Mrs. Weasley stirs her tea, looking past her youngest son with hollow eyes. "That's nice, dear," she says, but she isn't really listening.
III.
"Come on, Ronnie," Fred says, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. "It's fun here. Lots of laughs."
Ron tries to pull away, but Fred's fingers dig into his flesh.
"Wouldn't want to disappoint your family, would you?" Fred growls.
"You're not-"
"But, then, you've always been a disappointment, haven't you, ickle Ronniekins?"
And then Ron wakes, gasping for air.
IV.
"Fred was there."
"Ronald, please!" his father says with a sharpness he's only ever used for serious offenses. "Stop it. Just stop."
V.
Ginny touches his cheek, a dark smile tugging at her lips. "I'm here, Ron," she purrs.
"Go away."
"Mum and Dad don't believe you, do they?" she continues, moving his hand over his chest. "They don't really see you, do they? But I do. I always have."
"Gin..."
"Harry...I only used him to make you jealous," she whispers in his ear, nipping the lobe and dropping her hand to his thigh, digging her nails in. "And you felt it, didn't you?"
"Stop it," he says, his voice a pitiful whimper.
"You weren't being protective, Ron. You just didn't want him to touch what was yours."
"Stop," he tries again, but it's barely a whisper.
"I can be yours, you know. I can be real."
Her lips brush over his neck, teeth grazing roughly against his skin. "Just follow me, Ron. You know you want to."
And then Ron wakes screaming, his knuckles white from gripping the sheets.
VI.
"It was Ginny this time."
His mother sobs, and his father slams his fists against the table.
"They're gone, Ron!" his father says, holding his wife tightly. "Why do you do this?"
"Dad, I-"
"Can't you see you're breaking your mother's heart?"
VII.
By night, he walks with ghosts. Harry, Fred, Ginny. Everyone he's ever loved. Everyone he's ever lost.
Except for her...
VIII.
His father throws around words like survivor's guilt, breakdown, and hospital.
Ron is slipping. Ron is unraveling and spiraling downward.
And he knows exactly how to fix it.
IX.
The poison is slow. It burns through his veins, twisting his stomach into knots.
In retrospect, he should have chosen a quicker way to go. But it doesn't matter now.
X.
Hermione is there, dressed in white, her curls falling in her face. "It's okay, Ron," she whispers.
"'m scared, Mione," Ron mumbles.
"There's nothing to be afraid of,"she tells him, holding out her hand. "Not anymore."
He reaches out uncertainly, taking her hand. He doesn't know what's waiting for him, but if Hermione is there, how bad can it be?
"Where are you taking me?"
She kisses his cheek, leading him along. "To salvation."
And Ron doesn't wake again.