Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
The story starts as Harry's nightmare for this chapter. You'll know (I hope) when he wakes up.
Harry opened his eyes. It took him a while to recognize where he was, but when he did, he bolted up, searching for his wand within his robes. The place where he was was the place where the Portkey in the Triwizard tournament had let to. The dreaded graveyard. The graveyard that had pretty much all of the big chaos had started. The graveyard that looked as depressing and fog-filled as the last time Harry had been there. Harry had always feared this place, but now he feared it even more since he couldn't locate his wand.
"Looking for this?" called out a smooth voice from Harry's left. There stood the source of all of Harry's fears, sadness, and pretty much every negative feeling that Harry has ever felt. You-know-who, he-who-must-not-be-named. That's right. Lord Voldemort in the flesh, and he was clutching Harry's wand.
"Oh, did you think that you actually beat me when you casted that little disarming spell?" He clicked his tongue. "Silly, silly boy."
"Give me back my wand!" Harry yelled, but did not approach him.
"Oh sure, I'll give it back to you Potter," he sneered. "But it'll come with a price."
Suddenly, the fog slightly cleared up in front of Harry and Lord Voldemort, revealing six figures.
"No. NO!" Harry cried out, for he had recognized who they were. There stood Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, each with their own Death Eater grabbing hold of them and pointing their wands and their necks. He noticed Hermione whimpering quietly and Ron trying to soothe her without getting the disapproval of a Death Eater.
"Well well well, it looks like that boy is in a tough situation," Voldemort called out to his Death Eaters, who in return sneered.
"I'll tell you what, Potter," Voldemort continued. "I'll make a deal with you. How about you get your wand back and a friend of your choice, while you have to sit here and watch the other two be tortured and killed."
Voldemort openly laughed at Harry's shocked and angry expression. "And if I want all three of them?" he asked.
"Then I'll kill all four of you," was Voldemort's simply reply.
"I-I can't choose!" Harry cried out, shaking his head to himself.
"Well I guess that's your problem," Voldemort sneered. "Personally, I would pick one of the Purebloods. That Mudblood wouldn't do you much good." Harry locked eyes with Hermione, so he could see the fear behind them. He couldn't imagine Hermione not being there for him, whether it was for her vast knowledge, for her comforting presence.
"Or maybe just leave the boy," Voldemort continued. "What good would he do for you?" Harry left Hermione's eyes to look into Ron's blue ones. He could see the pain behind them, with a hint of fear. What good would Ron do for Harry? Ron had been practically the only family he had, his best mate, his brother. He and Ron were just always there for each other, whether to play Quidditch or for other more serious stuff.
"Maybe the other girl is the one you should get rid of," Voldemort whispered in Harry's ear. Harry couldn't bear to look into Ginny's brown eyes, for he was afraid of what he would find there. He was afraid that if he looked into Ginny's eyes, he would just take her and leave without a second thought.
"Time is ticking, Harry Potter," Voldemort warned.
"No, please, don't make me choose!" Harry cried, pulling on his messy hair. He could already feel the tears coming out of his green eyes, but he didn't care. He simply couldn't choose between the three people he needed the most.
"I can't, I can't choose!" Harry muttered. He bolted up and this time he was not in the graveyard anymore. He was in Ron's room, at the Burrow, with Ron peering over him, looking slightly scared.
"It's alright, mate," Ron said. "Voldemort is gone. He's not going to bother you anymore."
Harry could still feel the silent tears streaming down his face. He knew that Voldemort would still bother him, even if it was just in his dreams.