Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Do you? I didn't think so.

Hello! This is my third fic. I know, it's a little depressing at first. It'll get better, don't worry! Read and review. Hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE

"Harry's dead."

"Pardon me?"

Hermione Granger's brown eyes moved from the huge book she was reading to Ron's face. She narrowed her eyes in dislike. If this was a joke, it wasn't funny.

"Harry's dead." Ron kept repeating the phrase, over and over. His voice sounded hollow with pain. His face was bloodied up, his eye swollen and his wrist twitching as if it were in pain. He looked absolutely stricken. Hermione finally started to take in the truth in his words, and her eyes immediately filled with tears.

"This can't be happening," she whispered, the tears falling out of her eyes at a fast, irregular pace. "He wasn't done yet. You-Know-Who couldn't have..."

Her voice was choked with the salty tears that were starting to soak the front of her shirt. Ron, even in his pain, went up and hugged her.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had always been a trio, but Ron knew there was something else going on. Ever since the first year of Hogwarts, a tight bond had extended between Harry and Hermione—a bond that couldn't be broken. Ron knew that the pain Hermione was feeling was much worse than the pain Ron felt from his numerous wounds.

The tears that kept falling from Hermione's eyes were coming more slowly, but even so Ron felt them slide across her cheek to his. He whispered, "It's alright, it'll be fine," but even he recognized the hollow sound of lies coming from his mouth. He turned his head away to look at the star-lit sky. The moon was covered by clouds, it's usual brilliant glow sheltered by the foggy sky. Hermione just continued sobbing into his shoulder, and he knew that it would be awhile until she stops.

"Just keep crying, girl," he told her. "Just keep crying."

As it turned out, there had been a battle earlier that night. Harry and Hermione had come to live at the burrow for awhile, and the summer heat had turned into fall very quickly. Harry, accompanied by Fred, George, Mr. Weasley, Ginny, Tonks, Lupin, and a few others had gone to Sirius' house to visit the poor lad. Sirius had been all alone all summer, and the Order, who were stationed at the Burrow until winter, visited him often. Even though Death Eaters still prowled the night sky, Harry insisted on accompanying them, and if Harry went, George and Fred had to go as well. They were planning on flying up in the clouds, for the city was full of parading muggles that night. Unfortunately, they had gotten intercepted by Death Eaters, led by Lucius Malfoy.

"Scatter!" Harry had called frantically into the night, and all the others scattered into a perfect circle, surrounded by Death Eaters, their skull masks glowing hideously in the depth of the star's light, which was actually very dim.

"We have no need to kill them," sneered Lucius. "We're just supposed to keep them company while they watch you die!"

On the word die, Bellatrix LeStrange uttered "Crucio!" under her breath, pointing her dark wand at Harry. Immediately Harry's broom twisted and turned as Harry writhed in discomfort, trying to fight against the pain that had taken up his entire body. Bellatrix laughed as she watched him struggle, but the others watched in agony as the curse continued to work its magic on the dark-haired boy, until he fell still and silent. Bellatrix stopped the curse and smiled, her pointed, grimy teeth baring out at Harry's friends. "That should keep him still for a bit, until the Dark Lord arrives."

Ron looked away just at the sight of her horrific teeth. He felt sick as Dementors started swirling around them, the thoughts of all of them turning into only the icy cold memories that they had of hard times. Ron struggled as he imagined himself screaming an invitation to go to the Yule Ball with Fleur, and her pointed refusal. He shivered.

Ginny, the weakest of the bunch, was picturing herself in the Chamber of the Secrets, while Harry was penetrated by the snake's venom. She watched him die in her memory and screamed in the present time, feeling cold and drained, like all the others.

The pack grew colder and colder until each and every one of them was completely frozen of good, or okay memories, their heads to one side, their tongues lolling out, completely read to die. Their brooms sat motionless.

Harry, who hadn't been a Dementor's target since he had been practically driven dead from the Cruciatus curse, woke a few moments later. By that time, the Dementors were gone, but in their place a wide range of Death Eaters, even more then at the beginning. Leading them was Voldemort.

Ron didn't actually see Harry die, unfortunately, since he was unconscious like the others, practically falling off his broom. But he wouldn't have wanted to see the fight: it hadn't been pretty. Voldemort's spells were much stronger than Harry's, who was still feeling weak and barely awake. Soon Harry couldn't cope and let himself die.

Or that's what they thought. Ron, Ginny, Fred, or George had no idea what had actually happened to Harry. They didn't even know if there were Death Eaters, or if the Dementors had just killed him by giving him the Kiss. Either way, he was gone, and they couldn't find his body. Either he was dead or Voldemort had carried him off.

Hermione tried to coax the story out of Ron, who eventually gave in and told her everything. Her eyes grew wide as she heard of the Dementors and how everyone had fallen unconscious and cold, but didn't say a word. Suddenly the tears stopped falling, and her brow creased with the beginning of an idea.

"What?" asked Ron suspiciously, lying down on Hermione's make-shift bed. He knew that look.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Can I just know one thing—what was the formation of the Death Eaters and of the Order?"

Ron explained as best he could: It was him at the front, across from the creepy Bellatrix LeStrange, then Ginny, who was across from Lucius Malfoy, until it came to Arthur Weasley, who was not across from a Death Eater and was trying to protect Ron and Ginny from the Death Eaters. Hermione took this information with interest, rubbing her cheek as she often did when she was thinking hard.

But Ron didn't have time to ponder this weird behaviour from his friend, because St. Mungo's had returned the family's call and they were to report to the Emergency Room immediately.

So now Hermione had a chance to look at the rest of the family's injury. She had to say that Ginny was the worst: her cheeks were pale so the scrapes and scars that would stay on her face for months and months were completely visible. One finger of hers was cut off, and her left leg was broken. Her eye was black and blue, like Ron's, only the bruise was two times bigger on Ginny's eye. Ginny also had a deep cut in her shoulder, and her wrist was broken and sprained. Her eyes were searching and had a blank, twisted look in them, like after seeing something horrible, but she brightened when she saw Hermione.

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped.

"I'm okay, really." Ginny's voice sounded odd and strained. She vomited three times on the floor and sank into a chair, her face tinted green. Her bright eyes that were filled with pain met Hermione's. Hermione was looking down disgustedly at the puke that had landed on her shoes. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright," Hermione insisted, even though she felt sick herself as she tried to ignore the mess on her shoes. "You're sick. Don't be sorry."

There was a touch of sarcasm in her voice, but only a touch. Ginny took Hermione's words as a relief and closed her eyes, obviously just wanting to sleep.

George and Fred were at about the same condition. They were both paralyzed with fear by the Dementor's attack, but the Death Eaters hadn't hit them with too many spells. George had a long cut down his right arm that would most definitely turn into a scar, and there was no skin on the palm of Fred's hand, but other than that it was nothing. The haunting thing about the two was the blank look in their eyes as they stared ahead in the straight-back chairs they sat in, completely motionless except for the rare moving of their twitching fingers.

Mr. Weasley's hadn't been nearly as bad. He and Tonks and Lupin got away with a few injuries. Instead of practically dying from the Dementors, Lupin used the Patronus and the three were saved, since they were all beside each other in the formation. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters were not so easily fought off, and the battles between the Death Eaters and the three had been harsh.

"Lots of spells," Tonks gasped as Hermione pressed a cotton swab soaked in a medical potion Mrs. Weasley had quickly whipped up. The red-haired woman was practically hysterical, running around treating to everyone. Hermione felt sorry for her and helped her out. "Coming too fast to dodge. Very difficult."

"Who were you fighting, Tonks?" asked Hermione.

"Couldn't tell," she replied, wincing as Hermione rinsed off another injury. "Skull masks were on."

Tonk's upper lip was swollen, and part of her throat had been cut off, so she found it very difficult to speak and spoke in short, spacey sentences. Hermione found it difficult to understand but listened politely anyway. Then she moved on to Lupin, whose top lip was swollen about five times its normal size. The skin of his cheeks had been cut off by layers, and except for a thin layer of skin you could see his bone, white against his red mouth, which bled uncontrollably. So, of course, Lupin found it hard to speak as well.

"Almost died—back there," he sighed as Hermione poured a potion into a cup to soothe his frozen fingers. They were practically stuck together. "Wish Harry was here. What would he have said?"

Hermione smiled as she thought of her old friend, but her smile faded slightly as she realized Mr. Weasley looked away from them at that comment, the usual bright, cheery look in his eyes dulled with pain—and what was that?—guilt.

"That was fun," she said in a deeper tone which sounded nothing like Harry's, but sent Tonks and Lupin laughing anyways. She felt better and forgot about Mr. Weasley's odd behaviour.

"Yeah, something like that. Sirius would've laughed at that," Arthur Weasley remarked calmly. Hermione pushed a large bandage soaked in Grindylow venom, which grew back skin but soaked in slowly. It would be about five days until Lupin's cheek was truly restored. Other than that, there was nothing more Hermione could do, and she moved on to Arthur Weasley's leg wound. A chunk of his skin was lost, and you could see his bone perfectly clear as day, and it bled fiercely. Hermione layered about sixteen bandages covered with some sort of powder Mrs. Weasley had made up to stop the bleeding and heal skin, and listened to Arthur's story. His speech was considerably better than the other two, since his wounds were mostly on his legs. Hermione winced as she treated another wound, but found herself listening to Mr. Weasley's point of the story, despite his dreadful wounds.

"I was helping Tonks and Remus, here, since I wasn't across from the Death Eater, but Dumbledore—I mean, Voldemort—got me."

Hermione stopped in mid-air as she collected more potion from a flask close to where she was working.

"Did you say Dumbledore?" she asked shrilly. Lupin and Tonks were talking heavily on a different subject, so no one payed must attention to her alarmed voice.

"Shh! Not so loud," whispered Mr. Weasley. He seemed to have forgot his pain and was now leaning in toward Hermione. "Well, Hermione, dear, I know this might sound a little—well, I don't know—insane, but this is what I saw. I was awake when everyone was asleep."

"Yes?" Hermione asked, edging closer to him. She worked silently while he spoke so it didn't look too obvious.

"Well—Dumbledore was at the head of the Death Eaters, not Voldemort. The silver beard and everything! Anyways, Dumbledore didn't exactly kill Harry." He paused. Hermione wanted to shout 'Go ON!', but didn't want to seem too eager. "He made him disappear. Dumbledore and Harry both disappeared—Harry didn't die! That's why we couldn't find the body. Dumbledore took Harry."

"But how is that possible?" asked Hermione. "And why did you see this when no one else did?"

"George, Ginny, Fred, and Ron were being attacked by Dementors. Tonks and Remus were fighting off the Death Eaters all by themselves, since the others were unavailable to help."

"Bloody hell," muttered Hermione. This was more complicated than she had ever imagined it to be.