Disclaimer:  This is not mine.  See British lady with more money than the Queen?  She owns this, I don't.

Spoilers for OotP.  This is Y2K compliant… oh, wait.  HPbook5 compliant!  That's right.

We Were Wizards…

Prologue:

            His chest was burned, and it hurt to breathe, but he figured it would be a good idea. Breathing had never steered Harry wrong before, but, then again, he had never really thought about it. His right knee was a bundle of pain, and an IV line ran into his right arm, as the other had been bandaged after the burn was treated. His head hurt as he opened his eyes, then quickly shut them again. The light was far too bright, and he swore softly, before opening them again.
            It felt as though he had eaten a few cotton balls, and he coughed, sending him into another spasm of pain, which caught the attention of the sleeping figure in the chair next to his bed.
            "Harry, are you awake?" Remus asked gently from his elbow, as he picked up Harry's glasses and set them softly on his nose.

            Harry locked his eyes on the hazy outline.  "No, Remus, definitely asleep. Where am I?"

            Remus sighed and brushed the hair from Harry's forehead.  "You're in the Spell Damage ward of St. Mungo's.  Fourth floor."

            "I take it that I passed out right after we won?" Harry asked, throat scratchy from disuse.
            "More like fell into a light coma, but other than that, you were fine. They rushed you here into surgery, and fixed you right up," Remus explained.

            "What was the damage list?" he asked, sinking back into the pillows.
            "Well, you have a concussion, torn ligaments and cartilege in your right knee, as well as a broken patella, that's your knee cap. You also had 7 broken ribs, with at least 2 that punctured your left lung. You had burns on your left side, from your hand to your waist, and that's about it," Remus explained.  "I got a broken wrist, but they healed that up right quick once the more serious cases were dealt with."

            Harry scoffed. "I really know how to get in danger's way, don't I? Can I... have a glass of water or something?"
            Remus nodded and reached over to a tray where he poured a small cup of water, handing it to his surrogate son. "That you do. But at least you're alive," he countered sadly.
            Harry swallowed a few gulps of water and frowned. "How many did we lose?"
            "24. An additional 36 are injured, and 3 are in deeper comas than you were," Remus said. "Most of the injured are here at St. Mungos..."
            Sadly, Harry's green eyes looked around the room. "Where are the Weasleys? Are they okay? Ron would have been here, wouldn't he?" he asked, feeling the dread collecting in his stomach, and tried to sit up.
            "Hold on, Harry. You're not going anywhere. You need to rest."
            "Where is he, Remus? Tell me!" he shouted, oblivious to the pain.
            "Harry... Ron's dead."
            You could have heard a pin drop in the hospital room where Harry sat, stark white against sheets of similar color. The monitoring charm had brought the doctor running, and he froze at the doorway. "Mr. Potter, are you alright?"
            Harry ignored him, whether because he didn't know what to say, or that he couldn't hear the newcomer over the pounding in his own ears. "Remus, you can't be right. Ron's fine, he's gotta be."
            Remus took the cup from Harry's hand and took it in both of his. "Harry, I saw him fall. He was A-Ked by Lucius Malfoy. It was while you were facing Voldemort..." he said, gently squeezing Harry's hand for attention.
            "No... not Ron..." he rasped, his voice breaking with the tears that were coming to his eyes. "He promised me he'd be careful if he fought... He swore that he'd come home in one piece, no matter what!"
            "Harry, sometimes things happen. I'm sure he meant to be okay, but..." he said, gently, trying not to upset the already fragile teen. He swallowed, looking for the strength to continue. "Harry, I had to tell you. It wouldn't have been fair to lie to you. The rest of the Weasleys came out unscathed... except for the odd Stunning hex."
            The doctor retreated as tears streamed down Harry's cheeks.
            "Harry, Harry, listen to me please..."
            "No, Remus, it's my fault. If I had told him not to fight, he'd still be here!"

            Remus rubbed his brow.  "Harry.  He'd have fought anyways.  He's like Sirius in that way. 

            Harry pulled his hand from Remus' and covered his face. "Ron," he choked. "He..."
            Remus sat on the bed next to Harry. "I know, Harry. I know," he said, pulling the boy into a gentle hug. Tears began to fall on Remus' blue-green robes and he gently stroked Harry's back to calm him.

            Harry's tears moved into shuddering sobs as the words finally sunk in.
"But we were supposed to go through training together, to be Aurors. The three of us.
We were finally going to get paid for everything we had done in school," he choked.
            "I know, Harry," he said, gently.
            "He can't be..."
            Remus fought back a wave of emotion as he remembered exactly how he had felt after Lily and James had died.
            "This would never had happened if I hadn't been his friend," he whispered.
            Remus pushed Harry back for a second. "Harry... you don't understand. The Weasleys didn't fight because you were friends with Ron. They fought because it was the right thing to do... and he didn't need your permission. He got it from his father. If anyone is allowed to blame himself, it's Arthur. And if you hadn't been Ron's friend... someone who liked him for him, who knows what would have happened in his life. He'd always have been overshadowed by his brothers, and friendless. He loved you... he *chose* you. What could you have done differently? You needed him like he needed you."
            Tears still fell from Harry's emerald eyes and Remus reached for a handkerchief to wipe them away. "I know it hurts, love and you wish that you had done something... anything... differently to prevent it. Trouble is, you can't. I know exactly how you feel. It was nearly 20 years ago, but it still cuts my heart like a silver dagger. If I hadn't made your parents suspect me, then your mom and dad would never have chosen Peter. Sirius wouldn't have been in Azkaban all those years, and you wouldn't have been an orphan. So, from a certain point of view it was my fault."
            Harry sniffed. "But if they had chosen Dumbledore, then it wouldn't have happened either."
            Remus smiled. "Exactly. There were a million different things that could have been changed that would have needed to be changed to prevent it. It took me a long time to decide that it wasn't totally my fault. Harry, Ron chose to fight not because you needed him... cause you don't. He chose to fight because it was the right thing to do. Because he could. And because the Weasley's have always served the light. Always. That's something you need to understand. It wasn't your fault."
            "But it has to be my fault. I mean, why else would everyone have died? Mum and Dad died, then Cedric, then Sirius..." he said, trailing off brokenly.

            "Harry, it'll be okay. I know that it hurts, but the pain goes away... in time."
            "No," Harry choked. "It won't."

--00--

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