The Forest Again

Dumbledore's betrayal was almost nothing. Of course there had been a bigger plan; Harry had simply been too foolish to see it, he realized that now. He had never questioned his own assumption that Dumbledore wanted him alive. Now he saw that his lifespan had always been determined by how long it took to eliminate all the Horcruxes. Dumbledore had passed the job of destroying them to him, and obediently he had continued to chip away the bonds tying not only Voldemort, but himself, to life! How neat, how elegant, not to waste any more lives, but give the dangerous task to the boy who had already been marked for slaughter, and whose death would not be a calamity, but another blow against Voldemort.

And Dumbledore had known that Harry would not duck out, that he would keep going on to the end, even though it was his end, because he had taken trouble to get to know him, hadn't he? Dumbledore knew, as Voldemort knew, that Harry would not let anyone else die for him now that he had discovered it was in his power to stop it. The images of Fred, Lupin and Tonks lying dead in the Great Hall forced their way back into his mind's eye, and for a moment he could hardly breathe: Death was impatient…

But Dumbledore had overestimated him. He had failed: the snake survived. One Horcrux remained to bind Voldemort to the earth, even after Harry had been killed. True, that would be an easier job for somebody. He wondered who would do it… Ron and Hermione would know what needed to be done, of course… that would have been why Dumbledore wanted him to confide in two others… so that if he fulfilled his true destiny a little early, they could carry on…

Like rain on a cold window, these thoughts pattered against the hard surface of the incontrovertible truth, which was that he must die. I must die. It must end.

Ron and Hermione seemed a long way away, in a far-off country; he felt as thought he had parted from them long ago. There would be no goodbyes and no explanations, he was determined of that.

Ron Weasley was sitting against a wall, a wall of the Great Hall, he had have dinner here almost more than at home and the death of his brother made death only more real. This might be the last time he saw the Great Hall, the last time he felt the cold stones against his back, the last time he suffered but also the last time he loved.

Fred… He had died instead of him if he could, Fred was loved, Fred lived but Fred also died. He looked at the place where the body of his brother lay. Hermione was standing at his mom's side, she was comforting her while his mom cried hysterical and his dad watched with eyes which couldn't believe what they saw. Ron walked at them, not for comfort, for her… Hermione. If this was his last hour, he wanted to spent it whit her.

'Miss Weasley, I'll go, I'll leave you whit the rest of the family, I'll just… help the others' Ron heard her even thought Hermione whispered, he wanted to tell there was no need to leave but his mom was first to tell.

'No, Honey. You are a Weasley. You can just stay. And, please, call me Molly.'

She nodded, a tear falling down her cheek, which she wiped away fast, hoping no one saw it. Ron was standing next to her now, watching the body of his brother he forgot for a moment why he came here. He felt her hand taking his gently and she squeezed it, he smiled sadly at her and squeezed back to show he was here for her.