It was very boring, really. Despite the fact that he was now relatively famous and should be getting lots of attention, the youth was now secluded in the Hospital Wing with only th exercise of trying to breathe without pain for entertainment. Slowly, he drew in another breath, concentrating on not wincing when the sharp pain from his broken ribs lanced through his body. It was very hard, but since he had nothing else to do-

-I could heal that for you, you know.-

-No! You've already caused me enough pain with your tricks!-

-It wasn't a trick, and you ASKED for it, boy. Would you rather still be there?-

-No, but you could have done something less painful!-

-That was the only thing I could do, and had you not been foolish and gotten yourself kidnapped in the first place, I would have come to you prematurely, you would have been ready for me, and it wouldn't have hurt!-

-Ready for you? What is that supposed to mean?-

The sword - well, he thought it was a sword, but everytime it talked to him he got a different image, one of a man in antique clothes who looked a lot like...well, nevermind - went suddenly silent, as if it didn't want to talk about that. A grimace was planted on Ron's face. This wasn't the first time it had done this. He wished the thing would just tell him what it was he was supposed to be ready for.

Molly and Arthur burst in at that moment, her face covered in tears, his in a grin. His mother immediately snatched him into a hug, bringing involuntary tears to his eyes, and causing him to yelp in pain. Immediately she jumped back and pulled her arms to herself, as if afraid to touch him for fear he might break. Starting to laugh - oooo, that hurt! - the youth stopped himself, then grinned at her while wiping the streams from his face.

"I'm hurt, Mum, but I'm not breakable. I just cracked a couple of ribs."

A hesitant smile lights her face, but she still keeps her hands to herself until he reaches out a hand to her. Regarding the bandages wrapped around the wrist carefully for a moment, she finally snatches it, but holds it carefully, like an egg.

"Well, Ron. It's wonderful to see you a-."

Wincing, the older man cuts off. Ron winces, knowing what he was about to say. Alive. They were glad he was alive. So was he, for that matter. He couldn't blame them for giving up hope. He had. The dreams, the ones with Harry in them, when he told his friend that he was going to die, he had believed his own words. He had believed that there was no hope, that it was him or Harry. The youth had decided to make sure it was he that was the sacrifice for society. Smiling, the boy looked up into his father's eyes.

"It's wonderful to be alive."

His mother let loose a sob, but it was one of happiness, relief flooding her as she knew her baby boy was all right.

-A touching family moment, I'm sure, but you have a visitor. Dumbledore's approaching-

Scowling at the chunk of metal that now lay upon the table beside him, he spoke again, his voice cracking with pent up emotion.

"Mum, Dad...Professor Dumbledore's coming right now. If you want to...."

Immediately Arthur Weasley wiped away the tears that had fallen from his eyes and carefully disengaged his wife's hand from his son's. The Professor chose that moment to enter. The dancing blue lights seemed more relieved than anything, as they danced across the family, but his voice was merry as it emitted from within the depths of his snow white beard.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I am extremely happy for you...happy for all of us, indeed. It is not often that one escapes the clutches of Voldemort intact, but your son seems very...lucky....in that. But I mean to speak to Ron about his so called luck, so if you would excuse us for a moment..."

The red headed man nodded and guided his wife from the room. Dumbledore turned his face towards the male in the hospital bed, and though his eyes were serious now, they were proud too.

"Well, Ron, it seems that you have defied all odds."

"Yes it does, sir."

"Oh, don't call me sir. It makes one feel old, as you will realize eventually. Have you figured out why you are so...lucky."

Reluctantly, the youth replied.

"Well....This may sound crazy...but it was the sword."

Encouraged by the old man's nod, Ron rushed on.

"It...talked to me, sort of. And then it did something to get me back here, and all that I remember is that it hurt more than all the Crucios that Voldemort did on me, put together. I don't know what it did, but the next thing I knew, I woke up here."

-I made a Door, Albus-

Dumbledore jumped, and for the first time in his life, Ron saw him look surprised. The professor gave a sharp look to the youth and began muttering furiously to himself.

"It is even more than I suspected. I must check the Prophecy again."

-What you guess is correct, Dumbledore-

The grizzled head nodded and blue eyes find the boy's.

"You are very special, indeed, Ron."