"As you can see the-" There was a long bang and Ronald Weasley entered the room. There was a deafening silence. No one in the house would have dared entering in such a fashion, unless there was-

"Ron, what is it?" Harry asked, turning to him.

"Harry! Hermione, she-I did everything I could think of-but she won't wake up-Harry, I think the Death Eaters-" Harry's throat tightened and he stood.

"Where?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking, staring at Ron. "Godric's Hollow?" Ronald nodded. Harry ran over to the fireplace, grabbed some powder, and threw it in the flames. It burst with green flames. He stepped in the warm flames and shouted, "Godric's Hollow!"

Harry fell through the fireplace and burst through the kitchen door, Ron behind him There had definitely been a struggle. Ron grasped Harry's shoulder. Harry turned.

"Hermione!" Harry stared at Hermione's body in the pool of blood, his eyes burning. He held her body close to him, rocking back and forth. He looked up at Ron.

"And Lily?" he asked, his voice cracking in agony, though he knew the dreaded answer....

"I'm sorry, Harry. She's gone. They are both dead." Harry look away from Hermione's blank eyes. He looked at Ron, who was also looking away from Hermione. Ron stared at Harry, as though waiting. Harry looked away, his eyes welling up with tears. "I have to go," Ron muttered. Harry nodded, grateful. He wanted nothing more than for Ron to go, to leave...Ron walked away, with one last look at Hermione, and shut the door behind him. unaware of doing so, Harry walked up to Lily's room, with pale pink walls and moving picture of Lily, Hermione, and Harry in a family picture.

He sat down on Lily's bed and cried. Cried for his wife. For his daughter. They were dead and they weren't coming back. He wiped his eyes. He had to get out of this house. He had to leave these memories behind. At this thought, Harry hurried down the stairs to wear Hermione's body laid.He stared at her blank eyes, swallowing the deep well of despair in him...

"Kreacher!" he said loudly, and Kreacher waddled in. "Please pack all of my belongings. Yes, everything," he said quickly as Kreacher opened his mouth to argue, "I don't want anything left behind."

"What of the Mudblood's things, Master?" Kreacher said raspingly. Harry turned to Kreacher, who was looking at Hermione, a sort of indifference in his eyes about the fact there was a dead body in the house. On any other given day he would have punished Kreacher for calling Hermione a Mudblood, but he was too drained, too weak.

"No." he said, his voice cracking. He turned his back on Hermione. "She won't be needing them."

Sorry so short, guys! Hope you enjoyed it. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE R/R! Thanks! -Tori