Summary: It all fell down around him— his world, his hope. It all came crumbling down.
Rating: T
Warnings: Implied violence and character deaths
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, because everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I don't make any money out of this story. There are a few lines in this from Chapter 36 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, "The Flaw in the Plan".
.:.
Written for:
[THC]
Round 8 - Year 4
House: Hufflepuff
Year: 3
Category: 1. AU
Prompt: 1. Voldemort Wins!AU
Word count (without the A/N): 1,491 words
It All Falls Down: Ron Weasley
He could see someone lying in Hagrid's arms across the Hogwarts grounds. The flames that surged high up in the sky lightened the ground, and he could see someone—someone that deep down, he already knew was his best friend. But his eyes might be deceiving him. They had to be deceiving him.
"Harry Potter is dead." Voldemort's voice erupted through the ground.
He winced at the words, because now he knew. And they made him feel like the fact that his best friend was gone was truer than reality, somehow. He didn't even listen to the rest of the snake's damned speech, too focused on his own despair and incredulity to do little else than stare at Hagrid and the body in his arms.
He didn't even think about saying anything, but when they walked closer to him, he suddenly shouted the only thing that was on his mind at that moment.
"No!"
His voice was echoed by that of Hermione, and Ginny's screams tore his heart apart, but he couldn't even say anything to comfort her because as soon as the desperate screams erupted from her throat, they were all gagged. He felt trapped and furious, just so incredibly furious, and he fought with all his might against Voldemort's hold on his voice.
He just needed to say something. Something, anything. And maybe it was the anger, or the sadness, or just the hatred he felt for the snake-like wizard, but he suddenly found the strength to shout, "He beat you!" But he didn't stop there and continued, his lips barely moving as he seethed in the deafening silence. "He beat you. I don't care what you say or what happened. He beat you, I know he did."
"And how do you explain that he's dead, young man?" the Dark Lord asked, his voice colder than before.
"You don't get it, do you?" This time, it was Hermione's broken voice that rang across the grounds. "It doesn't matter that Harry's dead, because we're not."
And with these words, she raised her wand, and all hell broke loose.
They were completely losing their battle. Everything had gone terribly wrong since that night, and he couldn't help but feel angry at Harry, because... How could he have left them to die? Did he really have no idea of everything he would put them through if he died?
Ron… Ron was resigned, even more so now as he waited in the empty street for Hestia Jones to come back from her mission. The last few surviving members of the Order and Dumbledore's Army barely had any strength left to fight, and he was at the breaking point. He was sure, constantly sure, that something would go wrong and he would go raving mad in a second.
He fought the urge to run a hand through his red hair and sighed quietly. But he kept on waiting, his eyes searching the dark, empty street for some—any, really—sign of life. He waited and waited as motionlessly as possible.
He didn't check his watch like he wanted to. It would do no good, just ruin his Disillusion spell. And perhaps time had passed slower than he expected, and she might show up any minute now… But frankly, since that night, he doubted it.
Don't be so stressed, Ron, he encouraged himself. Come on, that's the best way to lose your mind, stressing so much…
He was about to lose all hope when he heard the characteristic bang of someone apparating not so far from him. He fought once again against the urge to search frantically for the person. He mustn't reveal himself… not yet.
Someone suddenly stumbled in sight, and he took in a sharp breath. Hestia… and not a healthy-looking Hestia from what he could see through the shadows in the street. She stumbled down the road towards him with a limp in her left leg, and he could see something dark dripping from her hand in a steady trickle.
When she stopped almost right in front of him, he finally lifted the Disillusion spell and took a step towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder to steady her as she almost fell.
"Ron…" she whispered, and there were tears running down her cheeks. "Go, you—you have to go now!"
"Go where?" he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing. "What happened to you?"
He saw her doubling over, and he felt worry creeping up in him in an instant. Obviously, something had gone wrong with her mission, but he wasn't sure exactly what just yet.
"I had to tell them, Ron. You know I had to tell them…" she whispered, as if she didn't want him to hear her at all.
"What do you mean, you had to tell them? Tell who about what?" In truth, he didn't even really need to ask her that. He already knew (or at least had his suspicions) what she had told to who.
When she looked up at him, he saw all the sorrow in her dark blue eyes, and he took a step back.
"You didn't…" he muttered. "You—You couldn't have…"
"I had to… You don't know how creative they can be, how—how cruel. You don't know what I endured in there. They—They tortured me, and I didn't tell them anything. And then they… used the Imperius curse on me, and I had to… I had to…"
She broke down once again, and he stared at her. Oh, how he wished he wasn't the one to stand by her side right now! He wanted to hurt her, because she had ruined everything. What little peace he'd had with his family in the past few weeks, after they had all found each other again after the chaos of the battle… It was all gone, all ruined, and because of her!
"You told them where we were hiding?" he finally asked her, almost pleading her not to tell the truth.
But she acquiesced. Of course she would tell him the truth. She was Hestia, and if there was something everyone knew about her, it was that she was one of the most honest and sincere people in the world.
He realized he almost pitied her and the tears that were running down her cheeks, and he put a hand on her shoulder, quickly bringing her back to the rustic headquarters of the Order. Then, he stepped away from her without another word, and he Disapparated again, heading for what he now had to call home, for lack of a real one.
When he arrived in front of the little and pitiful-looking house though, he only saw flames (flames that surged high in the sky, just like that night), and the Dark Mark eerily floating above the building. He hoped that his family did have time to run away, to find something else, but before he could think more on it, he saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned, and his eyes widened in fear.
Ginny… His little sister… She was being dragged towards him by a fucking Death Eater, and the worst part in it was that he recognized him. Of course he did. Rodolphus Lestrange had made a name for himself in the past few months, with all the kidnapping and killing Mudbloods and blood traitors thing. He was the one Hestia had tried to fight today without any success.
Rabastan Lestrange appeared behind his brother, his wand raised and pointed right at Ron.
"You can see this as retribution," the first of the brothers told him with a sneer. "Your dear mom killed my wife, and now… Now I'm killing all of you. Don't see how that's wrong. The Lord will be pleased to be rid of this… nuisance you are."
Ginny didn't beg for mercy as he pointed his wand at her, and Ron wondered why. She looked defeated and perhaps a bit hopeful, and then he realized. Dying meant seeing Harry and Fred again, and all the other ones that had died since that terrible night in May.
"Any last words from the both of you before we get on?" Rabastan Lestrange asked, a hint of a mockery in his voice.
"Yes," Ginny suddenly declared forcefully, and she continued before they could stop her. "You'll never win. There will always be people standing up to you and… and Voldemort, even if we're gone. Even if Harry's gone, even if you've reduced the Phoenix to ashes. You'll see. You'll lose."
There was a satisfied smile on her lips as she ended her rant, and the Death Eaters considered her, surprised by so much panache coming from a girl who had been so defeated seconds before.
They didn't answer though, and neither brother nor sister heard the Killing Curses that escaped their mouths. They fell together, and perhaps it was better this way because that meant they wouldn't have to witness the demise of their world.