Disclaimer- Not mine! Belongs to our God- J.K Rowling!

Author Note: Many thanks to ObsessivePerfectionist (great name!), Jypp, BlackRoseGirl and merlindamage for the reviews. I'm happy now. I took the advice on capitals by the way. OK, here's the next chapter and hopefully it should be longer!

Back From The Dead

A strong breeze blew through the dormitory, knocking Ron backwards on the floor. He closed his eyes as the glare got brighter and brighter. The wind still blew strongly through the room and he gradually put his arms over his head and curled up into the foetal position. The light became blinding and the breeze made things fall off the bedside tables, crashing to the floor. Ron whimpered, as the room began vibrating. He was thrown onto his bed by an invisible force: the curtains fluttering madly. Suddenly, everything was still and it was suddenly day light. Ron looked up amazed. He was still in the dormitory but it seemed different somehow. He had a vague recollection of it being like this sometime before, but he was confused about when.

The door opened and Harry entered; his figure a look of misery.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Ron, cautiously.

Harry didn't reply. He just sat heavily down on his bed and drew the curtains.

"Harry, are you still mad at me, 'cause I was just in a bad mood," said Ron, standing up.

There was still no answer from Harry. "Err, fine. I'll talk to you later then," said Ron.

He made his way to the door and tried to grasp the door handle. However, his hand just slid through.

"What's going on?" asked Ron, trying to grab the door handle again. His hand slid through once again. Ron took a step backwards, bewildered. Maybe Fred or George had put a spell on it? He took another look around the room, once more noticing the changes. There weren't any of the usual posters up on the wall and all of the trunks were smaller.

"Hang on!" thought Ron, "Where's my trunk? There's only four trunks there. What on earths going on?"

The door flew open again and Dean charged in. He didn't even look at Ron, as he passed and made straight for his trunk.

"Oi, Harry. Are you moping in here again, dude?" he called,

"So what if I am?" said Harry,

"Why don't you come downstairs? Hermione told me to tell you that she's found out who Nicolas Flamel is- if that means anything to you!" said Dean, standing up and heading out of the door. Harry's curtains flew open and he ran out of the open door and down the stairs. Ron's mouth was open in surprise. Not only had neither of the boys noticed him standing there like a dummy, but both Harry and Dean looked so much younger. In fact, they looked like they were eleven again!

"But they can't be eleven," said Ron, aloud, "They were fifteen when I saw them last!"

"You've cracked it," said a familiar voice.

Ron spun around and his mouth fell open again. "Sirius?" he croaked, "But you're dead!"

"I am," said Sirius, "but I am a ghost at the minute to act as your, hmm how shall I phrase it, godfather?"

"You're Harry's godfather," said Ron, "Not mine,"

"Alright then, I suppose you could call me your..." Sirius grimaced, "fairy godfather?"

Ron snorted in amusement. "I've never seen any person less like a fairy!"

Sirius frowned in mock annoyance. "But I'm such a dainty person!" he complained, his eyes twinkling.

Ron laughed and then stopped as a sudden thought occurred to him. "But anyway, why are you my fairy godfather? And, where the hell am I?"

"You're in your dormitory," said Sirius, smirking, "It doesn't take a genius to work that out!"

"Oh shut up and explain!" said Ron, flushing.

"OK, "said Sirius, suddenly business like and seating himself on the end of Harry's bed. Ron sat on his bed.

"You wished to my star- the star of Sirius- that you had never been born, am I correct?" asked Sirius,

"Yes," said Ron, frowning. His expression cleared. "It was your voice I heard telling me to wish!"

"Yes," said Sirius, "And 'cause you wished such a powerful wish- to remove a person from life- on my star, I had to come to Earth as a ghost and act as your guidance counselor,"

"Yeah, but I wished I'd never been born. As I far as I know, I'm still alive! Although, I'm not quite sure about why Dean and Harry both ignored me, why everything and everyone looks different and why I couldn't open the door!" said Ron, scratching his head.

"Ron, at the present moment, you have never been born. Nobody out there knows you exist- that is why they couldn't see you. As your wish was so powerful, I was required to make absolutely certain you were sure about this as it is irreversible," explained Sirius,

"I am certain. Nobody cares about me. They all use me and are friends with me out of sympathy," said Ron, sadly,

"Ron, that's completely untrue. In the short time I knew Harry, he thought of you as the best friend anyone could have. He was honored to have you as a friend!" said Sirius,

"What do you know? You were never there. You were always in hiding or in a bad mood and then you got killed. You don't know anything about anything!" yelled Ron, his rage over everything exploding.

Sirius went white and stared at his clasped hands. "It wasn't always my fault that I was never there," he said, deathly quiet," "Sometimes, I felt as if I would sacrifice the Order's location just to get out and see how you guys were doing."

Ron slumped to the ground. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly, "All my depression and rage just got too much. It's not your fault,"

"S'ok, Ron," said Sirius, "It's not your fault either. Now, where were we?"

"That's what I want to know," Ron said, "Where exactly we are in time."

"In your first year," Sirius answered, "But, of course, you aren't there as you have not been born,"

"So?" muttered Ron, "I bet they have party's everyday!"

"Don't be so sure," said Sirius, "I'm going to show you your friends and family without a Ron Weasley in their lives. Come, Ron. Let me show you."