A/N: for Emma, who kept bothering me, and for Andrea, who said that this was the best story she'd ever read.

Chapter 7: Of Death

Ron opened his eyes and looked around. He was in some sort of hall. Huge marble pillars lined the room and the walls were hung with rich tapestries depicting mythical creatures being chased by beautiful woodland nymphs. He groggily propped himself up on his elbows-and noticed Harry and Hermione across the room. Hermione's skin was still deathly pale and her lips were still a chilling grey-blue. Harry lay beside her, his dark hair falling over his closed eyes. As Ron watched, Harry awoke and stared at the ceiling a few moments before trying to sit up, and immediately lying back down, clutching his head.

'Harry,' Ron said. It came out as a hoarse whisper but sounded like a shout in the impenetrable silence of the hall. Nonetheless, Harry turned his head and looked at Ron in confusion.

'How did you get here?' Harry asked.

'There was a vial of blood on the floor, just after you went.' Ron opened his palm, but as he expected, the vial had disappeared. 'Is Hermione ok?'

'No,' Harry said weakly. Only then did he fully process what had happened, and he felt tears spring to his eyes. 'Hermione's dead.'

Across the room Ron's arms collapsed, and he lay back onto the floor. He couldn't help but feel that this was all his fault. If only he hadn't gotten angry and scared her in the library, then she wouldn't have run, and she wouldn't be dead now. His shoulders began to shake as tears rolled from the corners of his eyes.

'Here, mate.' Harry was suddenly beside Ron, and he pulled his friend back up to a sitting position and hugged him. The two boys sat in embrace, mourning the loss of their best friend and the girl they had both loved.

'How very touching,' a cold voice sneered. Harry and Ron sprang apart as if they had been stung. Before them, clad all in white robes, stood a woman with brown hair that hung down over her shoulders to her waist. Her skin was as pale as the marble pillars, but deep chocolate eyes glared at the intruders.

'Who are you?' Ron asked heatedly, getting to his feet. Harry remained on the floor, gazing at the woman. Suddenly it clicked.

'Ron,' he said. 'She's the woman in white from Hermione's dreams.'

'Indeed,' the woman said. 'I am Lady Rebekah Shallot, and that,' she said, motioning to Hermione, 'is my mudblood great-great-great-great- granddaughter,' she finished in a disgusted tone. Ron bristled at the word 'mudblood', as was his wont, and strode over to Hermione's body. Harry slowly got to his feet and followed Ron, so that they both stood guard over Hermione.

'It is too late for her, you know,' Lady Rebekah said, noticing their protective stance. 'The poison in her blood will finish her off in an hour or so.'

'What poison?' Harry asked, at the same time as Ron asked, 'so she's still alive?' in a very hopeful tone.

Lady Rebekah laughed, a high cruel laugh that chilled their hearts. 'She is alive, but barely. You cannot help her. "Although you know you cannot win, you fight the darkness creeping in,"' she sang.

'Why do you want to kill her? She's your granddaughter!' Ron exclaimed.

'She is a muggle-born,' Lady Rebekah answered, speaking slowly as if Ron was stupid.

'So? She's your heir!'

'Are you completely mindless?' Lady Rebekah exploded. 'She is a mudblood! No filthy mudblood shall inherit the house of Shallot!' She came to stand directly before the boys. 'My husband and I were one of the most influential wizarding families in Britain,' she began, getting a faraway look in her eyes. 'We had only one child: a daughter. Her name was Mary. We had big plans for her: she was to marry Jonathon Malfoy, and so bond our houses together forever. But then she fell in love,' she spat out the word love like it was a dirty word, 'with a muggle, no less! Lord Robert and I did a very good job of hushing it up, but then she ran away. I kept an eye on her of course,' she said, glancing towards one of the tapestries, and Ron noticed for the first time that it in fact showed Hermione lying death- like on the floor, 'but I could do nothing to stop her. All my tapestry could do was watch her until she died, and then it watched her daughter, and her daughter after that, and hers after that. I swore an oath when Mary left, that I would never leave this plane until I knew for sure that this ridiculous line of muggles with the noble Shallot blood running in their veins was fully wiped out. I knew I had the chance to end this mockery when I realised that she,' she indicated Hermione again, 'was a witch. Although I use the term loosely,' she added darkly. Ron wanted to yell that Hermione was a true witch, the best he'd ever seen, but he knew that if he knocked Lady Rebekah off of her roll, they might never find out how to reverse this thing that was killing Hermione.

'It is just such a shame that my husband could not live to see the day when I removed the scum from the Shallot family name,' Lady Rebekah finished.

'How do we stop it?' Harry asked quietly.

'Stop it?' Lady Rebekah laughed her cold laugh again. 'My dear boy, you do not stop it. And, oh look, her time is nearly up. Say your goodbyes boys. I'm sure she'll be happy to be free of the pain you cause her.'

'What?' Ron exclaimed. 'We do not cause her any pain! We-'

'This idiotic war of love you two have been waging,' Lady Rebekah interrupted. 'Did you not realise she knew? And that it hurt her?'

'Well of course she knew, after what happened in the library,' Ron said.

'What happened in the library, Ron?' Harry said, trying to maintain an innocent expression.

'I'm sorry Harry, I know you love her, but I love her too, more than you can ever know,' Ron said pleadingly. 'We kissed in the library,' he said in a rush.

'I know,' Harry replied coldly.

'But how-'

'I saw you.'

'While this is very entertaining, that mudblood only has a few more minutes,' Lady Rebekah interjected.

'I'm sorry Harry,' Ron said. 'Love her for me, yeah?'

Before Harry had the chance to express his confusion, Ron had launched himself at Lady Rebekah, wand out, screaming the unforgivable curse that would kill her. But Lady Rebekah had fast reflexes, and as the green jet of light issued from Ron's wand, another jet of light was streaming from Lady Rebekah's wand. The jets flew toward each other, and for one hopeful moment Harry thought the light would collide, and Priori Incantatem would happen. An instant later all Harry's desperate hopes were dashed as Ron fell to the floor, Lady Rebekah's spell having found its mark. Lady Rebekah also fell as Harry scrambled over to Ron's body, and she exploded into a myriad of colour that disappeared as swiftly as it came.

'Ron, Ron,' Harry called, shaking Ron's shoulders. But he knew it was no use: Ron was dead. 'Ron,' Harry said weakly, the tears leaking from his eyes. Finally he gave up and collapsed in on himself, crying for the loss of his two best friends.

*

Distantly a church bell struck midnight, and Harry awoke, looking around in confusion. After a moment he remembered where he was, and what had happened. He turned to see Ron still lying beside him, and took his arms, which were by now beginning to get stiff, and crossed them on his chest. Then he went over to Hermione. He took hold of Hermione's arms to cross them, but froze when he found that they were warm.

'Hermione?' Harry said, searching for her pulse. 'Hermione!' he said again as he found her pulse. 'Can you hear me? Wake up Hermione!'

Hermione groaned. 'Am I late for class?' she mumbled sleepily.

'Yes,' Harry said. It was the only thing he could thing of that would definitely get her up, and not surprisingly, it worked. Hermione sat bolt upright, suddenly awake, then lay down again.

'Ack, dizzy,' she mumbled. She opened her eyes and saw Harry looking down on her, his emerald eyes glinting with tears, and her heart leapt. She slowly sat up, with Harry's help, and took in her surroundings. 'Where are we?'

'The hall of Shallot,' Harry said. 'Do you remember anything?'

Hermione shook her head. 'I was running from the library. That's all I remember. Where's Ron? Does he know we're here?' she asked.

A fleeting look of hurt crossed Harry's face. 'So she does love Ron after all,' he thought.

'Hermione,' he said aloud, 'Ron's.dead.'

'Oh my God,' Hermione said faintly. 'How?' she asked, her voice a whisper.

'Lady Rebekah Shallot,' was all Harry said. Hermione instantly understood. She flung her arms around him, taking him completely by surprise.

'Oh, Harry,' she whispered. Harry held her tightly, wishing he didn't feel so numb.

'We have to get back to Hogwarts,' he said.

Hermione agreed. 'But how?'

'There might be a portkey. A vial of blood, that's what it was last time.'

'Ok,' Hermione said.

Harry went over to Ron's body to see if it was anywhere near him. His red hair contrasted starkly with his pale skin, and Harry could hardly bear to look at him. He turned his head away, and looked instead at Ron's feet. There he found a small vial. He stared at it, not daring to pick it up.

'Hermione, I've found it,' he called. She came over to him from the tapestry she had been gazing at.

'Are you sure that's it?' she asked.

'It must be.' He held Ron's arm and Hermione's hand, motioning for her to pick up the vial. As she did, he felt a familiar tugging behind his navel. With a crash, they landed back in the corridor of Hogwarts.

Well, that's it. Ron's dead and the threat is over. In case I didn't point it out before, the poem/song thing is not mine. I don't know who's it is, but whoever it is should be proud of themselves. It's not mine though. Please review. There will be one more chapter, a kind of epilogue thing. Thank you!