A/N: The Good Place is a show that was NBC and owned by … someone. Oddly, I had similar stories of the idea of points in life deciding what happened in death (This is Your Reward and such). Mine was more Christian Mythological, and the Good Place is more Humanist (which I prefer). If I somehow influenced the creation of the show, that would have been great. But it isn't likely.

But, I decided to use some of the concepts from that show here in addition to other concepts (multiverse theory, which the Good Place didn't have). This is my own bunny idea.

Steve Kloves wrote the screenplays for the movies based on the books.

Inside man:

Ronald Bilius Weasley, 48, opened his eyes and, after mentally cataloguing what he felt like, looked around to figure out where he was.

He remembered exactly where he had come from: Ron and Harry had been executing a warrant to capture the latest want-to-be death eater supremacist when a spell had been fired from his thought-to-be-innocent wife.

Tragically, Ron didn't have time to conjure a solid object and so he did the only thing he could: Yell a warning and put his body in the way to make certain that his best-mate, brother-in-law, and his children's favorite uncle survived.

Looking around, he saw that he seemed to be in some type of waiting area. And he hoped the fact that Harry hadn't arrived with him meant that Harry, at least, had survived.

In looking around, Ron noticed was that everyone had a number on them. His own number was 4,512. He also noticed that he felt no hunger. He was far from being the over-enthusiastic eater he was as a child (his lovely wife, Hermione, had worked with him to get healthier) but he loved food. That he wasn't hungry after some time waiting was another marker that he wasn't actually alive.

He had just waken up from a nap when he suddenly was no longer in the waiting area and was in front of a desk.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley. Welcome to Limbo."

"Er. Thanks?" he said uncertainly.

The man, somewhat non-descript and wearing an older-style suit, asked, "You know what's happening?"

Ron sighed. "I figure I'm likely dead." With a bit of hope he asked, "Can I assume that Harry not waiting with me meant he didn't die?"

The man looked at the file. "According to the file, you were successful in preventing that. Harry immediately heard your warning and, took down both assailants. He did everything he could to save you but it was too late. You were awarded an Order of Merlin and it was presented to your family. Your funeral was well attended. Your family is heartbroken, but George is keeping everyone together. His experience in losing Fred made him more able to help than the others can. They'll heal."

Ron thought about that for a moment. He would rather have lived, but if his family was going to be okay … "Okay, then. What now?"

The man looked at him for a long moment. "Normally, at this point you would be sent on, either to what we call 'the Good Place' or 'the Bad Place.' Let me tell you that before a recent massive reorganization, you would have ended up in the Bad Place."

"Why?" Ron asked confused.

"Let's start with your earliest memories, shall we? How about the cake on your sister's sixth birthday?" The man listed off quite a number of childhood crimes.

Ron was embarrassed. "Hey. I grew up! I stopped being such a berk."

The man nodded. "Yes. Mostly because of Hermione's influence as well as Harry Potter's. Overall, you did become a much better man, which should have ultimately lead you to the Good Place after some remedial work."

Ron noticed something. "You said 'should have'. Why should have?"

The man's face took on a pained look. "We would like to request your assistance."

Ron had been married to Hermione Granger for twenty-five years – he knew language: and this person was about to do something he hated. "Tell me everything. I'm a reasonable sod but after living through years of being told shite all until someone croaked, it got really annoying. After Hermione and me saw Harry given the mushroom treatment, we decided to screw with anyone who tried to give it to us."

Reluctantly, the man/being/whatever explained: There were multiple universes and one of his dimensional versions was truly a traitorous and gluttonous prick.

After getting all the details, Ron had a question: "How did any version of me ever get so horrible?"

The man explained, "A muse named Steve Kloves made a bullocks of things. Certain alternate dimensions are laid out by different members of the Muse department. Someone has to lay out the little details which make things all work together. The muse in charge of your group of dimensions is JK Rowling. She did alright, even if – like most muses – she screwed up on details. But other muses have to be brought in to lay out the alternate versions, so that things aren't too different. Steve tried to turn Ron Weasley into Comic Relief and instead made him … you … a pale imitation of what the identity is supposed to be. And this one is so bad we need inside help."

Ron Weasley, the real one, understood sacrifice. "What do I have to do?"