This story starts off the morning after the great Hogwarts battle and is a important scene in the further development of Ron and Harry's friendship. If you like it, feel free to review. I always enjoy having a bit of feedback whether its negative or positive. enjoy !

Harry woke up with a start in his dormitory bed. He couldn't remember even consciously going to bed last night, never mind walking back to the Gryffindor common room. His dream had been a rush of faces; all crying and lying, sprawled over inert and lifeless bodies on the floor. Their faces were marred with looks of horror and misery that were etched in ever feature; so much so, that harry could not bear to look at them. Torn and broken on the floor, despite the fact that they were the ones who lived and not their unlucky counterparts that covered the floor.

They faces of those that had lost loved ones looked imploringly at him, accusingly; until they paled in to insignificance as Harry heard a noise behind him. A sharp, high pitched, fingernails scraping down the black board laugh that chilled him right to the bone. He turned around on the spot swiftly and instantly regretted it as he came face to face, nose to nose with the monster that had haunted him.

"It wasn't real" he assured himself out loud; there was a sound of rustling sheets as a body stirred in his bed. Harry stopped stock still as he listened; afraid he might have woken one of his sleeping neighbours up with this nightmare.

"Harry mate, are you ok?" asked a deep voice behind the red curtains of the bed directly opposite his. It was Ron

"He's gone, it wasn't real" Harry continued to mutter as the curtains of the bed where the voice had protruded from let out a scream of protest as Ron shoved them back. When his face came in to view, Harry could see his expression. He could see his apprehensiveness and the worry in his eyes; but he didn't pay all that much attention to it. Harry was still reeling from his disturbing dream.

"Harry? Is something wrong?" Ron's voice persisted, although his voice was gentle, there was a nervous edge to it, as if he expected Harry to start screaming or announce the imminent threat of danger. By this point, Ron had started to ease back his bed covers and his feet thumped dully on the wooden floorboards as they came in to contact with the ground. Harry looked up from his horrified reverie to see Ron padding across the space between their bed posts, towards the end of his bed through the thin slit between his curtains.

There was another, slightly softer screeching sound as Harry's curtains were pulled back so Ron had full view of his best friend. Harry shielded his eyes with his sleeve endowed arms as the burst of new light coming in to contact with his eyes blinded him. He felt a sharp stab of pain in his retinas as he struggled to focus on his surroundings. The sun was making his eyes water and as a result, Ron was temporarily out of view

"Harry, for Christ's sake answer me? You're making me really edgy!" Ron exclaimed when he realised harry was awake but was ignoring him. Harry removed his shielding arm away from his eyes, having adjusted somewhat to the light but Ron's figure was still bathed in golden rays of light as he stood in front of him, casting his face in to shadows. Harry studied Ron inquisitively for a moment as he considered how he should respond to him

"It's entirely my fault. All those people- lying in the hall. Dead. That's because of m-me" replied Harry. Ron saw his eyes become watery and a solitary tear ran down his cheek as he said this and Harry's voice broke on the last word. Ron's now slightly annoyed expression melted away in to one of sympathy and pain. Death was heavy on his mind and the death of his brother Fred was fresh and sore. Ron moved so that he was sitting on the side of Harry's bed and it creaked under his weight.

"Harry-"Ron began, not quite sure what he could say to consolidate his friend that seemed to torture himself with his own thoughts. Ron had decided long ago that Harry did not need death eaters of Voldemort to cast the Cruciatus curse on him. Just the presence of them in the world and the knowledge that he was their target and other people were dying for him; drove Harry half mad. Consequently, Harry tortured himself far more adeptly than any curse could. Ron briefly reflected that maybe this was why he had been able to walk the death march to his own end. The pain of leaving was far lesser than the pain of staying and seeing more of his friends die at the hands of Voldemort.

"Harry, you are not to blame for any of this, Voldemort killed those people down there; not you. In-fact, without you I'm not sure even me and Hermione would have survived. The whole wizarding world owes you their lives! Yes people have died, yes, their family's morn for them and cry for them, but they died fighting for what they believed was right. You gave them that chance, that choice to change their world for the best and to save their loved ones. I know that wherever Fred is, he is proud to have died for this cause to have made some difference and I hope he is happy. But I know that he still has and will always have just as much respect for you now (if not more) as he did when he was alive and that will never change." Ron finished awkwardly, his voice hoarse for the talking and the lump that was rising in his throat. He looked at Harry, full, fat tears now running down his face in streams of misery and sadness. As he realised Ron was looking up again he dried his tears quickly on the side of his pyjama sleeve and smiled a watery smile at Ron.

There was a brief silence as they looked at each other and then Ron stood up, using his hand to propel him up from the low bed and started to walk away towards his own. However, before he reached it Harry decided he had one last thing to say to Ron before he fell in to an unconscious sleep again.

"Ron-"he said, raising his voice slightly to reach across the distance between them.

"Yeah?" Ron answered, swivelling the top half of his body round to face harry.

"Fred… he is happy. At least, he will be"

"You actually mean that don't you- I mean … you know?" Ron asked nervously

"Yes." Harry said simply, saying no more. He reached over towards his curtains and pulled them shut again gently.

Ron turned again in silence; contemplating the information he had just been given. He walked slowly back to his bed where he lay down and pulled the covers back over himself.

"And Ron – "

"Yeah?"

"Thank you"

"You're welcome mate … and the same to you" Ron replied as he reached towards his curtains and yanked them shut again. He fell back and rested his head on his pillow.

Both boys couldn't help thinking that the word thank you could cover all manner of favours and debts. In this case; those small thankyous's covered every single thing they had ever done for each other. All the horror, all the pain, all the hardship and all the love; that their friendship thrived on and through all this time had made them stronger.

what do you think ? should I carry on the story ? comments are welcome. thankyou x