A/N: Before I continue I must explain, dear reader, the reasoning behind my fan fiction. Some writers are out there writing their own version of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince only to mimic J.K Rowling and her style. They want to write something that, if given with a hardback and illustrations, could be mistakenly recognized as the real thing. I love JKR and her writing. That is exactly why I'm not copying her style, or following the hints of the plot from her website. I'm not even writing it to make it remotely close to what it's going to be like, because I know she'll outdo me. I don't care, though. I want her to outdo me.

I'm not the sort of person who when reading the next book will be upset if this doesn't happen or that doesn't happen. I love Harry Potter. And I'm simply writing my own version to pass the time and excitement of when the next book is coming out. I've been doing this since a week after the fourth book came out. Although my fandom may wax and wane, I know when the books are handed out at midnight, some random date far from now, I'll be there, waiting in a long line of people to get a sight of the next book.

Rowling and I are different people. Thus we are different writers. She has gone through more troubles than I. So she puts Harry through more troubles than I would. I would use my characters in different ways, or change the plot to fit my beliefs. For instance, I would not have killed Sirius. But I would also not have had such a powerful meanings or weatherproof morals.

She has come up with a world so vivid and powerful and characters that every person can relate to. The only people who criticize the books are the ones who haven't read them, or have a hatred of the entire fantasy genre in general. You can go to fan websites that are in Japanese, French and German. Major movie corporations were clawing to get the rights, and when WB did, it spent millions on the movie. She's brought millions of American children away from the television set and back to their books. And although my English teacher will fight with me about this, she is one of, if not the most known and well-read writers of English literature in all of history.

For those reasons, I respect J.K. Rowling. I don't pretend to be a better writer, or even a writer that is just as good. I just look up to her from the masses of fans, envying her talent, greedily desiring her books' immense popularity, and remaining in awe of her determination.

I write fan fiction only to humor myself, and stretch my writing skills. Not to impress anyone, or make it look like the real thing. It would be spiteful if I tried. And I'm sorry if that doesn't entertain you.

Thank you for your attention.

…Now back to the show! Dadada!!!!

Chapter Four: Ron's Plight

"…and so then he took me here…"

Ron and Hermione sat Indian style on his bed munching on Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, staring at him in wonder. "That's so weird," Ron's eyes glittered in a strange, blue way, "You're his nephew? I still don't get it…"

"It's simple really, Harry's grandfather was a cheat," Hermione said bluntly.

"No offense, mate, but you look nothing like him."

"I know," Harry paced the dark room, "It's so ridiculous, it sounds so ridiculous… but at the same time it makes sense… he's hated me not only because my dad tormented him, but that I'm the last person from the family he was rejected from… but still he's protected me, from Quirell, from Voldemort… like I'm his… his…"

"Family," Hermione offered.

"Yes! And, it's weird, when he taught Occlumency, he would always take out his thoughts and put them in the pensive…"

"Wait… did you just say he took out his thoughts?" Ron mused.

"It was like he's been hiding the fact that we're related for years… He's just like Aunt Petunia…"

"Harry," Hermione cut him short, "What are you going to do?"

"Huh?"

"Who are you going to live with?" Ron clarified.

He fell silent. Four eyes looked at him expectantly. "I dunno… I'll stay here I guess… that way I can see you guys whenever I want!"

"No, Harry," Hermione stopped him, "We won't have you staying with someone that hates you just so you can see us…. right, Ron?"

"Er," his ears turned pink, "I guess… I reckon… it would be cool for us to hang out whenever we want but… but…"

"But what?"

"…er… I don't remember… Yeah that's awesome!"

"Ronald!"

"Wha?"

"What if Snape abuses him, or something… you'll peer pressure him into staying just because it's cool for you to hang out? What kind of friend are you?"

"A good one!"

"Hermione, you don't understand, the Dursleys hate me more than Snape hates me… I think…" Harry stated.

"But still, don't think about us when you make your decision. It's up to you, not whichever one is closer to your friends, am I right?"

Ron sighed, downheartedly, "Your always right."

They were all silent for a few moments, until Harry spoke, "Neither side is a very good family, you know. At least this way I'll get to see Dumbledore and Remus and you guys…"

"I know, Harry, I'm just saying that you shouldn't make your decision now."

"Well, I've made a decision." Ron said abruptly.

"What's that?"

"You should come and live with me!" He grinned. "I know my mom and dad would have you, and it's only for the summer… it's just like a really, really long slumber party. And Fred and George would visit and bring us sweets, and we could bother Ginny and play quidich every day and…"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because…" he searched to find an answer that didn't have to do with the prophecy, "Dumbledore won't let me…"

"Why not?"
Harry was silent.

"What, is his plan just to keep you miserable or something? Because it's working! It worked last year and it's working this year. It's not fair! Why won't he let you be happy? It's not right! And now I'm yelling at you and its not your fault! I'm sorry, but that's what you did to us last year! It's like his master plan is to rip us apart! And now you're sad about… about his death, and that's not your fault either. You may think it is but its not. So will you stop being so damned noble and just be happy for once?"

Ron breathed heavily for a few minutes.

"I can't."

His mouth fell open, aghast.

A tear fell down Harry's cheek, "I'm sorry Ron, I can't tell you why, but I just can't. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"What the hell are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry that I can't go. It's not because of Dumbledore. It's because everyone I love falls to pieces. Everyone I love dies. Everything I touch disappears. I don't know when I turned into bloody Charley Brown, and you might think that I'm making this up for attention or something… but I'm scared, all right? I'm scared that he'll come after me and he'll hurt you and your family. I don't what that to happen, no matter what! And if that means I have to stay with someone that hates me, then I'll do it!" More tears slid down his cheeks, and out of shame he turned away, rubbing them out of his eyes.

Hermione, who had remained in silence for quite some time, let out a melodramatic "Oh, Harry!" and hugged him till his ribs were numb.

"What if I said I'd risk it?" Ron said finally.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"I hate you, you know."

"I hate you too."

And they embraced, as brothers do.

Hermione just watched in awe, "You guys are like walking, talking oxymorons."

"We're not morons!" Ron yelled.

"And we're not oxy either!"

They laughed slightly, and continued the rest of the conversation talking about light things like muggle jellybeans, mangos and Monty Python.