A/N: A fic idea that's been fluttering about my mind for a while now, my first attempt at angst, Inspired by Coldplay's 'Fix You' I reccomend listening to it while reading.

Ron Weasley had heard the sayings, that when you're about to die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. He had heard the sayings, but he had never understood it. Not until now.

The first memory was of a train ride, all those years ago, when he had first met the two most important people in the world to him. Harry Potter, his best friend and almost-brother, and Hermione Granger, the girl he would one day come to love.

It was a clear memory, his astonishment at meeting Harry, his nervousness when Hermione had announced she had read through all the textbooks. He should have known then that, from that moment on, he was destined to be overshadowed by the two people he cared about most.

Next was his sorting. He remembered groaning when Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor, and arguing against the Sorting Hat when it had briefly considered putting him in Hufflepuff.

Snippets of the events leading up to Halloween passed by him; he still blamed himself for almost getting Hermione killed. Maybe if he had been less of a prat…

The memory of the incident with the troll reminded him that if it weren't for that, they might never have become friends with Hermione. He was thankful everything had turned out alright in the end.

Bits and pieces of the rest of the year flew by, and he remembered their battle to get to the stone before Snape. He cursed his own uselessness at having had to be rescued from the Devil's Snare by Hermione, who had frankly managed quite well.

He remembered getting knocked out by the Queen – it was the only thing he was useful for; cannon fodder. Harry and Hermione did brilliantly, and Harry had even managed to stop Quirrel from getting the stone.

Second year was horrible, he had never felt more useless than he had that year. It had started with him almost getting both he and Harry killed when they tried flying the car to school. His wand had broken, and the car had driven off into the forest.

Then there were the attacks, some blamed Harry, others blamed Dumbledore, and others blamed Hagrid. He should've kept a better eye on his sister, looked out for her. Instead he had let her fall prey the machinations – a word he picked up from Hermione – of Lucius Malfoy. He had been useless in the forest when they went to face down Aragog – what kind of Gryffindor was afraid of spiders anyway?

Hermione had been petrified, and he still felt that if he and Harry had been there they could have somehow protected her. When they went down to the chamber he had been trapped on the wrong side because bloody Lockhart had tried to obliviate them, and it was only because of his broken wand that it wasn't them wandering about the long term ward of Saint Mungo's. But he had been trapped on the wrong side of the cave-in, and had left Harry to face down the basilisk and save his sister alone.

Third year came next – a series of fleeting images of every fight he and Hermione had that year. It had driven a wedge between them – all because of that traitorous rat. He didn't know what had possessed him to value a rat over Hermione, but he hated every minute of their fights. He had tried to defend Harry from Sirius, but honestly, what could he do to help when he had a broken leg getting in the way?

Then there was fourth year – the year everything changed. First it was that whole problem with the Goblet of Fire. Ron still beat himself up for abandoning Harry when he most needed him. He knew Harry and Hermione had spent a lot of time together, since they weren't speaking to him.

He still wondered whether things might have turned out differently if he hadn't turned his back on them. What he did know was that when he finally apologised, everything was different. Harry and Hermione were closer somehow, closer than they had ever been before, and Ron was more often than not shunted to the background.

The Yule Ball came around, and before Ron even had a chance, Harry had asked Hermione to go with him. Ron had gone alone, unable to find a date. Harry and Hermione had danced together for a few songs, before disappearing. Parvati and Lavender had been quick to spread the rumours about what had happened between the two, and Ron had to admit, they seemed to be true.

Harry and Hermione had become a couple. They walked into the great hall the next day tentatively holding hands. It was then that Ron had belatedly realised – he was in love with Hermione Granger.

It was also then that he had realised that he would never be good enough for her, not now that she had chosen Harry – because Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, Triwizard Campion, Defence prodigy and duellist extraordinaire. He was just Ron Weasley, mediocre student and sixth son of the Weasley family – he was unnecessary, that much was apparent to him, had always been apparent to him.

Harry and Hermione began training together, Harry for the tournament, Hermione for the knowledge. Ron was the third wheel, or, more often than not, target practice. They became known as the Golden Duo, a well-earned title. Ron on the other hand, was barely noticed. He was just Ron.

He remembered the second task, Hermione had been Harry's hostage, and Ron had sat on the edge of his seat, worried out of his mind for the two people he cared for more than anything else in the world, and who may have once considered him a friend. He had breathed a sigh of relief when they came up safe.

His memories finally began speeding past again, freeing him from the emotional torture of that year, but only briefly did they remain speeding past, soon enough the memories had settled just before fifth year. He had sought out Sirius and Remus, asking them to teach him everything they could, to make him able to help his friends.

Ron hadn't mentioned the pointless hope that maybe by being good enough; Hermione would notice him, be he didn't need to, somehow both Marauders knew, because there had been, for a few fleeting moments, a look of pity in their eyes.

They had trained him, for those few weeks at Grimmauld Place he had been trained in combat, in transfiguration, in potions, and everything in-between, and Ron had thrown himself into his studies. Even then Hermione hadn't noticed; she had barely spoken to him at all, except for a brief 'hello' when she had first arrived, but had given Harry an excited greeting.

Neither had paid much attention to him, except when his Hogwarts letter had come – brought to them by Dumbledore. Their expressions of surprise had mirrored his own when he had found the prefects badge within, but he had seen something more in Hermione's eyes – anger.

He knew she thought he didn't deserve it, that her boyfriend deserved it rather than Ron, and that she would be bringing the matter up with McGonagall the moment she could. And while Ron felt the same, that Harry deserved the badge rather than him, it still hurt immensely that his two best friends thought he didn't deserve to be prefect.

He had yelled about it, throwing the badge at Harry and storming off to find Dumbledore before he left. He had confronted Dumbledore, but wished he hadn't, because even Dumbledore felt he didn't deserve it, he had only given Ron the badge because he felt Harry had enough to deal with.

Ron had collapsed against the wall, his anger long since dissipated, leaving cold despair in its place. He didn't remember who had placed a hand on his shoulder, had taken him out of the hall and had led him into the room he trained with Sirius and Remus, but he had found himself there with both Marauders, and, surprisingly, Ginny.

She had hugged him fiercely, before Sirius and Remus had a long talk with him, Ginny piping in occasionally. He didn't remember what they talked about, but it had devolved into a target practice session, with the target dummies charmed to look like Dumbledore.

He had raged and wept, but in the end he only threw himself into his work that much more, and had continued to do so when they had returned to school, Ginny had even started joining him.

He tried out for Quidditch, and he got in, not because of anything he did, but because they expected him to be as good as the rest of his family. He had almost quit then and there, but decided against it eventually. He had got in, now he could prove how good he was. He had started training in Quidditch as well, Ginny helping him practice Keeping.

When Harry and Hermione started the DA he had thrown himself into it, practicing as hard as he could, outshining most everyone else there. Ginny had told Ron Harry and Hermione were having relationship trouble, but Ron hadn't had his hopes high. They were the Golden Duo, they would pull through.

Finally, there had been a chance, to prove himself to Harry and Hermione, so that they would at least stop ignoring him. So Ron had joined them when they decided to go to the Ministry and save Sirius – the Marauder was one of his mentors after all.

Harry and Hermione had been adamant that it would just be the two of them, but he, Ginny, Neville and Luna had pressured them, and eventually they had caved, but not without Hermione saying she sincerely hoped everyone present were competent, directing her gaze at Ron.

He remembered that Ginny had almost slapped Hermione for that, but Ron had stopped her. There would be time for fighting later; right then they had needed to save Sirius.

It had been a trap; of course it was a trap. They had fought their way out. They had been battling in the death chamber, Hermione and Harry bringing down Death Eaters left right and centre, Ron doing almost as well.

That had been when he saw the jinx – a simple flipendo – careening towards Hermione. It wasn't the jinx that prompted him to move, it was the knowledge of what would happen if she was knocked through the veil.

Ron Weasley had heard the sayings, that when you're about to die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. He had heard the sayings, but he had never understood it. Not until now.

It meant that when you are on the brink of death, you think about the things that made your life worth living, and for Ron, that was Hermione.

He was moving before he knew it, pushing her out of the spells path. He felt it strike him, and as he fell through the veil, he closed his eyes.

"I love you, Hermione,"

END

A/N: I could go anywhere from here, there are just so many stories where a person falls through the veil and either ends up in a parallel but similar universe, ends up in the past, or in another fandom entirely. I'm having trouble choosing... That's why I've decided to give you awesome readers/authors time to use this as a baseline, before I go ahead and try write every possible continuation. Reviews are awesome, send a few my way.

Until Next Time

Nox