I do not own Harry Potter.
"Harry, bring back my body," Cedric's ghost floated in the graveyard, pointing to his body on the hard ground.
"Yes, dear Harry, bring back his body," Voldemort's white face loomed out of the darkness. "And you can bring back these, too," he gestured to three gravestones. Hermione, Ron, and Sirius were each tied to one.
"Harry, don't let him kill us," Hermione pleaded softly, staring at him.
"Save us, Harry!" Ron said.
Sirius just shook his head. "He can't save us. He's no match for Voldemort."
And then Harry was Voldemort; he cackled, pointed his wand at the three prisoners, and screamed Avada kedavra! Three green lights shot out of Voldemort's wand and suddenly all three bodies hung limp from their bindings.
"NOOOOOOOO!" Harry screamed.
Someone was shaking him awake.
"Harry, it was just a dream!"
Harry opened his eyes, and saw a blur of red above him; it was Ron.
Harry shoved his glasses onto his nose and sat up; he was shaking and covered in sweat.
Ron was looking at him in concern, and in the early morning sunlight, Harry could see that Dean, Neville and Seamus were also staring at him.
"Ron, you're alive!" Harry croaked.
"Yeah, of course," Ron frowned, sitting on Harry's bed. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Never mind, it was just a dream, sorry I woke you up." Harry didn't want to tell him about the horrible dream.
"Alright, then," Ron got up and went back over to his own bed, then turned back to Harry and said, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied, then pulled the curtain around his four poster closed, and curled up into a ball in his blankets shivering, trying not to think of Voldemort's pale face, and the bodies hanging from the gravestones.