A/n: Reactions for the cliffhanger were what I expected, minus the throwing of heavy objects at my head. Someone asked if I would continue this story with a sequel and the answer is yes. Also, there is one chapter after this one so the sequel is coming soon. At the end of the previous chapter, I know some of you were going "Wait...HOW?" Well, this chapter will explain everything. I hope you guys like it.

Disclaimer: Writing all mine!....Characters not mine...=(

Chapter 10: Broken Lives

Moody's words resonated in Ron's head. They penetrated every fiber of his mind. With all his might, he tried to make those words coherent, but still they seemed like a cruel joke. His oldest brother's face flashed a million times before his eyes. All feeling left his body and every part of him focused on Bill, and finally the meaning behind the words hit him, a harsh stab at every piece of his heart.

With the pain blazing inside of him, his blurred vision cleared and he managed to look around. Moody had caught his mother when she had fainted. His face still looked dark and troubled, frustrated and helpless. He didn't take his eyes off Molly and called her name softly, so as to not startle her when she came to. Harry was holding Ginny, who had her face buried into his chest. Ron could make out her shaking shoulders and he could tell she was sobbing. Not hysterically, but sobbing nonetheless. Harry's eyes were wide with fear and what Ron already recognized as guilt. His unblinking stare was unnerving, and he didn't move save for the arm that was stroking Ginny's back.

A jolt of electricity in his upper arm made him realize Hermione was leaning limply against him. She had her head down, but even so he could see her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably, and in a bizarre way, he felt the suppressed sobs inside her. It was scary how he could feel what was going on inside her but had no idea what kind of turmoil was taking place within him.

This wasn't even rational. It didn't make any sense. He had just seen Bill a few weeks ago, he had been sitting at the kitchen table, they had been talking, looking at each other. Just that day he had been so close to him at Diagon Alley, just a few minutes' walk away. And now he was just gone. His brother would never return. He was suddenly filled with unexplained hostility for Moody, anger that surged out of nowhere amongst the trouble that was filling up every part of his body and soul.

"How can you even say something like that?" he said, in a low voice that sounded more like a growl. Ginny stopped her shuddering gasps for a moment, and an awkward silence followed the first words spoken since Moody had announced that Bill was dead. Harry looked alert, even though he did not look at Ron. Hermione breathed in and said, "Ron..."

"I want to know what you find so funny about barging in here and—and scaring us all half to death," Ron said. When he said the last word, his eyes clouded. Moody kept staring at Molly's face even though it was evident that he was listening intently to every word that Ron spoke. Ron found his breath coming in hard and fast now, as he waited for Moody to tell him that he was just playing a prank on them. He even half-expected Moody to be one of the twins. They'd taken Polyjuice, they'd come and tried to have some fun, that was all, they were so thoughtless sometimes. Answer, Moody. His mind urged the Auror to put his fears to sleep, begged him to restore calm to a household that had suddenly become gripped by fear and suspense, filled with a sense of not knowing what to believe. Answer...answer me! "ANSWER, DAMMIT!"

His words were yelled, but his voice dripped with anxiety and panic. Moody looked up, and for the first time, Ron found both eyes staring fixedly at him, wide and alarming. The minute he met Moody's gaze, he knew this was no joke. Moody was not lying. It was true.

Bill was really dead.

Pain unlike he had ever felt swelled up in Ron's chest, threatening to burst through his lungs and rob him of all possibility of breathing. His eyes darted across Moody's face, as if trying to find a plausible explanation for such a harsh blow. When he found none, he felt something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

He found a thin wet trail on his freckled cheek, cold and wet, plastered against his skin, a minor description of the way he was breaking apart inside. His lips parted and a choked sob escaped them. He felt his eyelids quiver as suppressed tears threatened to fall, only to do so a moment later. He was numb; he couldn't feel his very own heart beat, just the slow tears trickling from his eyes, down his cheeks, tasting bitter when they reached his mouth. He made no more noise, just stood and stopped trying to hold back the tears.

A sharp knife of guilt suddenly stabbed at his heart. Why hadn't he gone to see him? They would have been there in a moment, and he would have gotten a chance to talk to him about his new job and about life in general. He had been his role model, and his friend. When he could have been with his oldest brother, he'd been off prancing around focusing on spending time with Hermione. That had felt nice back then, but right now, when he knew her to be standing so close to him, he could feel life coursing through her, and he knew she was still here. But Bill wasn't, and he wouldn't be ever again. He was gone. For good.

With that painful thought, he crumpled to the ground and cradled his head in his hands, keeping his mouth tightly shut so no sobs could he heard. His tears dropped into his hands, and as he pressed his hands even closer to his face, his tears spread past his cheeks, to his forehead and chin, until his entire face was wet and contorted with pain. How was he supposed to wipe all those tears away, how, they were everywhere...

He felt a hand on his back, and he knew who it was without having to look back at her, without having to hear her voice. His mother had come to, and now her palm felt cold against the heat of his back. He knew it was her, and he felt strengthened by her presence, but the ever present knowledge of having lost Bill forever still had power over him. He half tore at his face, trying to get it dry and failing.

He let his mother turn him towards her and accepted her comforting embrace, ducking his head under her chin and letting his never-ending tears splash onto the skin on her neck and soak the collar of her shirt. Through his tears poured all the darkness and fears that had been inside him for so long, unnoticed but present. He had never thought it was possible to express so much emotion by just crying, but that was exactly what he was doing. He had had so much pent up all these years. All he needed was a trigger, and Bill's death had certainly set him off. This had been the last thing he had expected, yet it had happened, and now, he didn't know what to think.

After what seemed like hours of lying in his mother's arms, like when he was just a small child, Ron pulled away, shielding his wet and flushed face from everyone with his equally wet hands. He knew Ginny was still sobbing quietly; he could hear her. Harry wasn't making a sound, but Ron knew he was watching him with helplessness. And Hermione...he could feel her eyes boring into his back, watching intently as he moved, sensing every tear and every gasp. How he knew this was beyond him, but he knew it, and he knew when she walked towards him, and he sensed when she knelt before him. She placed her hands over his and brought them away from his face. He saw her eyes wet with tears, so that they blurred the brown and white in them. He didn't even try to hide his current state from her, because she didn't care, and she made it clear. Then she did something simple yet it meant the world to him. She gave him a hug, and it wasn't a sign of anything more than friendship. It was just a way of telling him that, even though she couldn't sympathize with him, she would be here for him, and he understood that.

When she released him from the hug, he wiped his eyes, no longer caring who saw him. His breathing was becoming slightly more normal, although now and then a gasp shook his entire body. Hermione sat next to him on the ground, and Mrs. Weasley stared at her hands in her lap. Ron noticed she wasn't crying. With a pang and tug at his heartstrings, he realized this was too much for her, and crying wouldn't even begin to sum up all the hurt inside her.

After all the silence, it was Harry who spoke, in a choked and forced voice. "What—how did it happen?" When Harry voiced his question, Ron realized that they really did have no idea what had brought the misfortune upon them. Everyone looked at Moody for clarification.

The old Auror sighed. "I'm sorry, Molly. And Ron. I mean, all of you. I'm not sure it's wise to talk about it now. You should all get some rest and—"

"We need to hear it. Now. And you shouldn't feel guilty about telling us," Ron said, finding his voice muffled and emotionless. Hermione had jumped slightly when she heard him speak, and he himself had been startled at his ability to talk after what he'd just gone through.

Moody gave Ron a look full of pity but also the utmost admiration. With a slight nod, he began to speak. "Two hours ago, Diagon Alley was as normal as usual; wizards and witches shopping, Hogwarts students gathering their school supplies, as you were a few hours ago. An hour ago, Diagon Alley was a living hell. It was mad chaos. Fires burning, people running, screaming everywhere."

"Why?" said Harry, his brow furrowed. It seemed like he already anticipated the answer.

A dark look settled over Moody's face. "Death Eaters."

"Oh, shit." Harry's simple statement voiced what they were all thinking. Ron saw Harry walk over to the couch and sit down, cradling his head in his hands. He could tell he was already blaming himself. Ginny looked like she might keep crying forever but at the same time angrier than Ron had ever seen her. "What did they do?" she said, in a low and dangerous voice.

"Caused a disaster. Their sole point is to strike fear of the Dark Lord. Well, they certainly achieved that."

"Wait a minute. Which Death Eaters? There were only a few left after they were caught at the Department of Mysteries in June. How can such a short number cause so much chaos?" Harry asked.

"That's just it, Potter. It wasn't a few of them. The ones who were locked up in Azkaban escaped this morning. By the time word had gotten around, the Death Eaters had already reached Diagon Alley. And they'd already caused enough damage for a blown out disaster." Everyone groaned the minute Moody told them about the escaped Death Eaters.

"What happened to Bill, Alastor?" Mrs. Weasley spoke for the first time. Ron glanced over at her and saw that she still had her head lowered. Instinctively, he reached out and held her hand, and even though she was stiff at first, her hand relaxed in his.

Moody ran a hand through his mangled hair. "The Death Eaters' main target was Gringotts. We had two goblin survivors. That's the only way we've been able to acquire all the information we have so far. What happened was that the Death Eaters marched into Gringotts trying to convince the goblins to join the Dark Lord in this war. Naturally, they refused. And upon their refusal, the Death Eaters attacked. They of course fought back, and among the fighters was Bill. He definitely fought for long, judging from all the charm and spell marks on his body, but he couldn't repel an Avada Kedavra spell sent his way. We have no way of knowing which Death Eater did it."

Harry shook his head. "This is bullshit. What's the point of war? Neither side is going to gain much anyway, besides death and destruction. How many more people are we going to lose in order to end this?" He grabbed the nearest cushion and sunk his fist fiercely into it. "There's no point! There are people dying and there isn't a damn thing we can do to stop it!"

"Harry, you can't blame yourself for this..." Hermione said, in attempt to comfort. Harry shot her a warning look and Hermione closed her mouth. Ron could tell she knew the same thing he did: Harry was already blaming himself, and there was no way anyone could convince him that he had no fault in the death of his brother.

"How can you think this isn't my fault? Would we even be having this war if it weren't for me? You know, if what it takes to end all this is for me to give in to Voldemort, I might as well. It's one thing when I lose someone who's close to me, but when it someone else's family, a family that has become closer than any I could ever have, then that's too much."

Ron stood up. Everyone immediately froze, startled to see a Ron so different from the feeble one he'd been just minutes before. He turned around and looked at his best friend closely in the eye. Harry never blinked, and neither did Ron, and it was impossible to tell what was being communicated with such an intent gaze. Ron felt all of Harry's guilt against his own chest, and felt pity for his best friend, but he knew what he was about to tell him would erase most of the fault he felt in his heart.

"You know how much it hurts. You know how impossible it is to describe it. Because you've been through it more than once and each time has been more painful than the other. You've had to recover from something like this more than once and you know how hard it is. You say we've become a family to you. Guess what, Harry? You're the only kid in our family without red hair. You are family. Do you know what we would do if I lost you and Bill? We'd all be going mad. We'd have to deal with all this pain twice. So don't even think about giving up and throwing yourself at Voldemort. Even if he weren't after you, we'd still be fighting this war, because this isn't about just you being persecuted by him. This is about a power-hungry maniac who will do anything, go to any lengths to achieve total sadness and—and devastation, and he just wants to wipe out any good. You just happen to be one of his major obstacles. He thinks he can take you down. And he is going to try. But we're here, to fight for you, with you. And if you were gone, there would not much else left to do." He looked away so he wouldn't break down again. "I can't believe Bill is gone. But he is. The only way I'll—we'll get through this is if you're there to help us and guide us. I'll be damned if you give yourself to him. I've never felt more hatred towards someone, but because of him your parents, your godfather, and my brother are dead!" His voice was quivering now, and he knew he could not continue. At the same moment, the friends stepped towards each other and embraced, giving each other the strength that they both lacked.

"Ron." Moody's voice made Ron release Harry and rub his wet eyes. He turned to look at Mad-Eye, waiting for him to say whatever he had wanted to say. Moody was shaking his head and staring at the ground. "Boy, I don't know if you've had all of that in you all this time and you've suddenly found it or what, but that is the wisest speech I've heard a young person like yourself give." He stood up, walked over to Ron, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You're right. Your brother, Black, Harry's parents, Diggory...they're just a few of the many we've lost and are going to lose. But we have to keep fighting, like your brother. Bill died to protect the Death Eaters and Dark Lord to gain more supporters—soldiers—so we could have a chance against them, so we could fight and work to get rid of the Dark Lord, and stop all the killings. I swear to you that your brother did not die in vain."

Ginny walked over to where her closest brother stood and she took his hand, entwining her fingers in his. "Bill was a great person. And he loved us. He would've rather died than put us in harm's way. I don't want to think he's gone." She dropped Ron's hand and put her arms around him. "We'll get through this, Ron," she said soflty, pulling away from him.

Ron nodded. He gave Moody a respectful nod and wrapped an arm around him sister. "I'm sure we will."

END POV

It had been less than a week since the death of Bill Weasley. There had been a sort of silent numbness over the Burrow, a place that was usually full of life. It gave Hermione chills up and down her spine to walk around the quiet house, suddenly empty and lifeless. Over the past few days, she had barely spoken to Ron, and she missed him. But she understood his distance. The feeling of helplessness had increased dramatically ever since, because now not only could she not sympathize with Harry, but she also couldn't give Ron any comfort. That's why it didn't surprise her that Harry spent most of his time during the day with either Ron or Ginny. With Ron, he would just sit, occasionally poking fun at how Bill had ended up with Fleur rather than Ron, and Ron would smile sadly. But most of the time they just sat together. When Harry was with Ginny, he'd usually sit with her in his arms, and sometimes she would cry a little but never sob, for it seemed she loved Bill too much to express it.

It was during the times that Harry was with Ginny that she found Ron alone, usually sitting by his bedroom window, staring out and not really seeing anything. She felt an invisible hand squeeze her heart as she pictured Harry in the same predicament just a few weeks before. But slowly the image of Ron's downhearted, idle frame settled before her. It became fixed in her mind every time she passed his room, the door ajar, the room itself a complete mess.

She wanted now, more than ever, to talk to her mother. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't try to talk to Ron because she had no idea what to say. Showing him her pity wouldn't help much; it would only bring back the instant when Moody's words rang out in the empty room. Limply, she walked down the stairs to Ginny's room, and once there, closed and locked the door. She needed to be a lone, to think.

Slowly, she walked to her summer bed and threw herself face down upon it. She took a deep breath and smelled the soft wool of the bed sheets. She loved this house. The Weasleys were to her, like Harry, another family, one that she could be with when she was so distant from her actual one. Of course, Ron was different than family in her eyes, and at this thought she felt her cheeks grow hot. But never mind that momentarily. One question tugged incessantly at the back of her mind.

Why hadn't she ever bothered to get to know Bill, just a little?

The little time she and Harry had spent around him had been great. Bill was a charismatic person, able to make her sit on the end of her seat with stories about Egypt. He was a great guy. And a nasty voice inside her insisted that she should have tried to be better friends with him, because now she never would be able to.

It's not my fault. It really wasn't. Bill was so far away most of the time; his family only saw him every so often. But when they did, they were warm and gentle, and she had been friendly with him when they met. As she thought about it, she suddenly realized how different yet alike Bill was in everyone's mind. To Ginny, he was an idol, the cool brother, the one who would be overprotective but at the same time, understanding. To Mrs. Weasley, he had been an ambitious son who always welcomed the open embrace of family and home. To Harry, he had been a friend who had been kind enough to travel to Hogwarts to support him during the fourth task, even though they didn't know each other well. To Ron...to Ron he was a friend and role model. Hermione could tell that Ron greatly admired Bill, for being so strong but such a sensitive person at the same time. She closed her eyes to prevent them from welling up. She couldn't even imagine how empty Ron must feel. Having lost someone who he wanted to be like, who he'd respected as his older brother and friend, must have been a fatal blow.

Hermione had respected Bill, even though she really didn't have much chance to get to know him. But she respected him for being so involved with his family. She smiled as she remembered a summer night, two long years before, when Mrs. Weasley had fingered his long ponytail and longingly mentioned how she'd have loved to just "trim" it. Hermione had a hunch that Bill had kept his ponytail out of affection for his mother, because it must have reminded him of her every time he looked in the mirror. Like she'd thought before, Bill didn't have much time to visit his family. But he was still in a way so involved with them. He'd been aware of the times when Ginny and Ron started attending Hogwarts, and he'd known what house they had been in. He was a devoted son and brother. It was depressing to think what a great father he would have made.

That thought made Hermione immediately feel for someone she'd never thought she would: Fleur Delacour. She disliked her greatly for very selfish reasons, but Fleur had been quite smitten with Bill. But now he was gone, just when things must have been becoming a little more serious for them.

Cruel irony suddenly made its way into her thoughts. How terrible was it, that she had managed to get along quite well with the brother who gave up his family for ambition, rather than the brother who gave himself up for his family and the world he know.

And now there were all these empty spaces left in so many people over one death. It was becoming unbearable to think what sort of devastation could be caused by more than one. It shouldn't, couldn't happen.

Heaving a great sigh in hopes of relieving the burdens from her mind, Hermione stood and left the room. Leisurely, she made her way to Ron's room, each step striking unsure and helpless feelings inside her. But she was determined to help her best friend in some way, even if it meant just sharing a simple hug.

Before she knew it, the same vision of Ron sitting at his window was before her, and she almost couldn't speak. Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly on the door to draw his attention. His head didn't move, but his eyes left the window and settled on her. With his lips barely parted, he said, "Hi."

Hermione walked over and sat down beside him. "Hi," she said, in a soft calm voice quite unlike the one she suspected would come out of her mouth.

Ron nodded although she hadn't said anything else, and turned his gaze away from hers. Hermione bit her lip and tried again. "You know, I—I was thinking that I never got to know Bill...and...I don't know, I suppose I was hoping you—could tell me a bit about him. You knew him pretty well. And he loved you."

To her dismay, she saw Ron's bottom lip tremble. But the corners of his mouth curled into a faraway smile. "He was great. He was probably my best big brother. I mean, the twins are fine, and Charlie is too, and Percy...well, he's Percy. But Bill...heh. Bill was something else." He looked away from the window and leaned his head back, looking at Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. "You know he was the only one who didn't nag me about anything? Charlie and Fred and George were always on the proud side when it came to Quidditch, and every time I asked to play with them, they'd laugh and pat me on the head or something. Whenever I did manage to get on a broom, though, Charlie would start coaching me and criticizing everything I did. Then there were the twins and their pranks. They'd always kidnap me when I was too small to defend myself and force me to eat some disgusting candy or test out one of their latest inventions. And Percy always complained that I would be too stupid when I got to Hogwarts if I didn't crack open a book. With Bill it was different. Gin and I would love it when he came home because he'd sit with us and tell us about Hogwarts and his friends and everything he did. We were in awe of him. And then he'd always take us aside on our own, one on one with him. He used to clap a hand on my shoulder and be like, 'Look at you, Ron. You're growing a foot a minute. By Christmas, you'll be taller than Charlie! And as handsome as your oldest brother,' and we'd both laugh and I'd jump around telling him everything I'd done when he was away. When he started working at Gringotts, it was harder, but every couple of summers he would get a holiday and race over to us, and it would be like old times. Every time I saw him, I knew I wanted to be like him, a fighter, an overall good person, someone who didn't think of you based on what abilities you did or didn't have. I still want to be like him." Ron hesitated, and Hermione saw him blink repeatedly, to keep his wet eyes from overflowing. He shrugged weakly and said, "I miss him already."

Hermione was stunned about what he had said. It had been sincere and true, and quite unlike him. He looked like he was fighting very hard against tears. Without thinking, she gently put her hands to his head and brought it to rest down on her lap. Then she just stared down at him, watching almost hypnotically as her hands ran smoothed down his hair, watching the freckled cheeks flush with the heat of emotion. Right then, she didn't see him as the boy she'd liked for so long or the irritable person he could be sometimes or the insolent student who was stubborn as a mule. She saw him as a young man she was proud to call her best friend.

"You know...the only animals that can truly cry tears are humans." She wasn't sure why the words spilled out of her mouths, but they did.

Ron didn't reply instantly. After a few seconds of silence, he said, "A cursed gift."

His true but complex statement surprised Hermione. "That's an oxymoron," she whispered.

It was a long time before Ron answered. But when he did, he left Hermione thinking about the kind of person Ron was, had always been, and would become.

"But it's true."

A/n: Review...NOW!! Er, please. =)