When I first came to this website, I tried dabbling in Harry Potter fanfiction, and it was fucking cringeworthy. I don't know how much better I am now, but I really hope it's better than my first few attempts.

This is a Ron-centric fic, I love Ron, I really do. I read another fanfic from another fandom (Time Braid) and I wondered what it would be like for Ron to actually keep looping in time. This is more about Rom coming to appreciate life as it happens to him, and is probably going to get more lighthearted if I ever write more of it.

I DON"T OWN THIS SHIT.

It happens in a flash, in a matter of seconds it's all over. That's how death takes you. I would know, it's done that to me before after all, I've died several times. Some times, I even did it because I wanted to, I wanted to die, wanted to be embraced by the cold grip of death, like the third brother, wanted to embrace Death, go on to the afterlife.

Unfortunately, I don't usually get what I want. This wasn't unusual either, I didn't have what I wanted, because I woke back, on my bed, in my room with the ghoul in the attic.

Someone once told me life was a gift, but these days I've been wishing for death a lot. It just doesn't come though, it eludes me, much like other things in my life that have eluded me.

If you don't know who I am by now, I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Ron, Ronald Billius Weasley. I have red hair, and freckles. I'm eleven years old, and quite short, but in six years I'm going to be tall, and lanky. A lot of things are going to happen by the time I'm going to be seventeen. I'm going to play the greatest game of chess I've ever played, I'm going to go into a cave and fight some acromantula to save the future love of my life. My pet rat is going to turn out to be a fucking lunatic who framed someone else for murders he committed and try to get away with it.

I rise from my bed, trying to ignore the moans of the ghoul, he does this quite often at this time of day. I move towards the bathroom, one glance at the clock tells me that it's five in the morning, which means that it's an hour before my mother wakes up, which is plenty of time alone and quiet in this house, because after that it gets noisy, and today is September 1st, it always gets noisy today.

I look at myself in the mirror of the bathroom, the shower doesn't really work properly. The ponce Malfoy is probably going to tell you that us Weasleys are not capable of affording any sort of decent plumber that could come and fix our problems (and there are plenty of those), and it's going to hurt because it's right, it used to hurt a lot, to watch people like Harry and others enjoy the little things, but for me to go without any of that because I was too poor to afford anything. For a while I even blamed my dad for it, I cursed him internally, wondering why he couldn't chose to do something that actually paid, but I had grown up.

I had grown up several times over actually.

I hastily splash some water on my face, before brushing my teeth. I've done this a few times times before, this is my tenth (or eleventh, I don't even count anymore), and there seems like there isn't going to be a respite to my problems, I'm going to be here, stuck, doing the same thing over and over, forever.

I slowly open the door, hoping it doesn't creak loudly enough to wake up the house, I congratulate myself when I succeed in the endeavor, then I chide myself for being happy after doing something so trivial. I have been doing a lot of this second guessing of late, this isn't anything different. I'm stuck, I have always been stuck, I'm always going to be stuck, nothing is ever going to change. Maybe I have to accept that.

When it started, I didn't know what to think. Walking out on Harry and Hermione had been the biggest mistake of my life, I was always going to hate myself for it, but then as I disapparated away from that tent, desperate to get away from the two of them, unable to fathom how I'd feel if I ever found out that what I thought about the two of them, turned out to be true, I was filled with fear. And regret.

I had tried to justify it to myself, 'They are better off without you anyway' my conscience told me. Everybody's conscience tells them to do the right thing, mine just makes me feel really bad. I don't know why that is, but I know I want to fix it.

I was surrounded by snatchers immediately, and it got bad, and I closed my eyes as I saw the green light streak towards me. Time slowed down, somewhere I felt something fall down, I heard a clock tick, and then I heard glass breaking. Perfectly synchronized with the green light hitting my chest, and then I woke up, eleven years old, back in my room.

I've done this twice now, I killed myself the first time, jumping off the roof of The Burrow and landing on my head, instant death.

I woke up back in my bed.

The next time, I decided to leap out of the train as it took me to school. I closed my eyes as I felt death coming for me.

I woke up back in my bed.

I was going insane, I knew it, I had a death wish. The next time I decided to off myself, I'd never heard of someone casting an Avada Kedavra on themselves, and bitterly smiled at the thought of being the first in the family, and indeed the entire world to do something like that. It worked.

But then I woke up. Back in my bed.

I looked at the house, the sun was about to rise. In a while there were going to be alarms, there were going to be surprises. I just wish there could be some silence too, but today, I finally felt like I was done with trying to die. Today, I decided that I had to endure my personal hell, today I was going to have to face the consequences of the decision I made to abandon my best friends-

I look away from the house, it hurts to even think about it now. Even to try to fix a mistake like this, I am going to have to wait for years, I've never been a man that patient, but I think you can teach any dog tricks regardless of it's age if you keep at it long enough.

I smile as the sun finally comes up, and I hear the sound of footsteps, Mom coming downstairs, not even bothering with being silent.

"New day, new life"

-x-

"Are you alright?" My mom has raised seven kids, and yet the precognitive abilities this woman have still continue to amaze me. I wonder if it's a thing all women have, a capability of sensing when their sons are in distress. She can tell I'm thinking, and she doesn't think that I'm a thinker.

"Yeah" I tell her, perhaps that came out too hasty, because she raises her eyebrows, she's suspicious.

"Okay" I say, this calls for some damage control. "I'm worried, about Hogwarts" I trail off, it's not entirely false. Actually I'm more worried about having to redo something all over again, wondering if I have the patience for it, but she doesn't need to know the entire details. As a great man once said, why tell the truth when you can say nothing and not lie at the same time.

Okay so maybe no one ever said that, go ahead and sue me.

My mom has a kind look on her face, I've seen her with this expression before, usually it's reserved for Harry, but then again the bloke gets everything, and I think he deserves it, I really do. I know looking at me, and how jealous I can be, people don't think I'm capable of understanding. The love of my life thinks that I have the emotional depth of a teaspoon after all, it hurt me when she said that the first time, I can be perceptive when I want to, but it's really impossible to understand women.

"Ron, it's natural to be nervous" she tells me as I toy with the bacon on my plate. Apparently I used to do that a lot when I was a kid, because my mom has a fond look on her face.

"Playing with bacon again Ron?" she asks me. "It seems like you're coming back to normal" she tells me. "Now get ready, you have school to go to after all"

Normal? I snort. There is nothing normal about this situation at all. I'm someone who can't die, something happened when I was supposed to die, and now I can't die. I never realized how much death is wanted by some people till I actually tried killing myself, and now I'm not that scared of death, I'm more than willing to embrace it.

I think back to how I died the first time, and I wonder if there is something I'm supposed to fix, something I'm supposed to get right so that time can start working normally again. Maybe that is what it is, if I hadn't left the tent, if I hadn't abandoned the two people who I cared about more than anyone else in the world, I wouldn't be dead, and whatever happened wouldn't have happened.

That's what I had to do.

If you want to see more, you know what you have to do. Review.