Ron thought he had been eaten alive.

All around him, everything was in an inky black. He seemed to be standing on nothing. Whenever he stepped, small ripples disturbed the inky black, much like black oily water. Ron ran. He ran until he had no breath left, but it seemed he was running in circles, because whenever he turned around, it seemed he had never really moved. Ron began to scream, but his scream was cut off as soon as he opened his mouth. His surroundings shifted, and then the world brightened in a burst of light.

He found himself standing alone on the shore of the Hogwarts Lake. He looked at the Lake. The grass felt real enough, shifting slightly as he moved. The pristine surface of the lake was smooth and unmarred. There was a soft breeze from the east, and then Ron turned from the lake to look behind him.

Behind him, burnt patches of grass were smoking. There were dead people all around him. Two lovers called on each other, eyes blinded with death. Beads of blood were dripping down the once pristine grass, and all around him, people were screaming. Death Eaters gathered at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, green light flowing from their wands. Ron found himself staring at someone, despite all the blood and death happening right in front of him.

It was him. Time had changed Ronald Weasley into a war-torn Auror. Blood dripped down a wound in his temple. One hand was soaked in blood. This hand had a wedding ring on it. A wand was held loosely in his other hand. Elder Ron's gaze was distracted, but when it rested on his younger self, the eyes focused and stared at him like a hawk.

His older self opened his mouth to speak and gestured with his hand behind him, back to all the death. Regardless of their conversation, the war continued on, an endless cycle of death.

"What do you want to be?" He asked, with a small smile on his cracked lips. "And what will you do to attain it?"

Hermione thought she was in a coma.

All around her, everything was in an inky black. She seemed to be standing on nothing. Whenever she stepped, small ripples disturbed the inky black, much like black oily water. She looked around, mind trying to find a logical explanation for this. When that failed, she opened her mouth to begin to call for help.

Her world vanished, fading out into a totally different place. She immediately recognized this as the Hogwarts library. She ran her hand down the set of familiar books, this section wherein she spent most of her time. There was a small smile on her mouth as she took one book out. It felt real, and the scent of it was real as well. Looking behind her, there was no Madam Pince at the desk. She found this odd but she supposed that Madam Pince had gone to the bathroom, and then she turned around to read.

Instead of a book, she was holding nothing but thin air. In front of her, a hand gripping the pink fabric of her overlarge shirt was herself. She was a child then, with wide eyes and a small quirky smile. Her shoulder length brown hair fell in waves, and the child, normally so happy looked at her with all the seriousness of an adult in her large brown eyes.

Her younger self spoke then, voice squeaky, but the tone made it clear that she was no child.

"What do you think is the most important thing?" She asked, eyes staring at her, seemingly to pierce through her. "And what will you give up to gain it?"

Harry thought he was dead.

All around him, everything was in an inky black. He seemed to be standing on nothing. Whenever he stepped, small ripples disturbed the inky black, much like black oily water. Harry tried to open his mouth, to scream for help when his surroundings abruptly changed and then he was falling, falling...

And then time stopped, with him suspended in mid air, arms in mid-flail. Harry recognized this scene. It was when he had fallen off his Nimbus when the Dementors arrived. He craned his head upward, and sure enough, there was a thick black swarm above him. Harry looked around. Raindrops were in mid-fall, frozen. All around him, everything had been stopped. Unsure, he tried to stand. The air below him complied, and soon Harry was standing in midair.

"What is true strength?" A voice asked, the deep bass tones echoing in Harry's lone surroundings. Harry looked around and found only himself.

Literally.

He was standing in midair, staring at himself with the green eyes of his mother. He was dressed in his Quidditch robes, standing there and staring at himself demurely with his hands behind his back. Like an interrogator.

"What is true strength for you?" His doppelganger repeated, smiling slightly. "And what do you want it for?"

"Magen: Gachin Kokoronokinsen."

Kakashi lowered hands as the Genjutsu took effect. Sitting down in place, he observed the three people writhing on the forest floor. What shape would their subconscious take to test them, he wondered. He had copied this particular Genjutsu from an enemy ninja. Having gone through it before, Kakashi knew how had to defeat this was. First, once the genjutsu was cast, the target would have to face their subconscious. If they could answer the question and satisfy what their subconscious fretted about, they would be relieved of the Genjutsu, if not, a simple 'Kai' would bring them out of it.

He would not save them from their own subconscious. It was up to them to defeat their own minds.

Ron blinked.

"Well, I want to be…" Ron paused, thinking deeply. "I want to be somebody, not just another Weasley."

This Elder self did not seem satisfied, but then the surroundings changed. They were no longer in front of that particular clearing. Instead, they were in a different war zone. Ron recognized this to be his home…the Burrow was burning. Black smog rose into the air, Death Eaters surrounded the premises and on the floor he could see the broken bodies of his parents. They had died resisting the Death Eaters. He could see some Death Eaters congratulating themselves, and hear their snide comments about his parents.

Ron screamed and raised his wand arm, wand in hand, to throw as many spells into those blasted Death Eaters when the surroundings shifted again and flickered into a new place.

He could see a joke shop that was also burning, and he could see his brothers Fred and George fighting back to back. Exultant Death Eaters surrounded them as they tried to escape, but their attempts were no use and in a flash of green light, it was all over.

Once more he tried to change it, to counter the horrifying scene but once again the surround dings shifted, and he was in the Ministry of Magic and watching Percy. Percy who was working, and who refused to listen to a screaming Ron as he grabbed frantically at the older boy's sleeve trying to get him to listen, but this too was in vain, and as Percy looked next to him, there was a flash of green light and Percy Weasley's body hit the floor.

His incoherent scream of rage only caused the elder doppelganger to smile sardonically, as, for the last time, the surroundings shifted to depict himself closing Ginny's wide, blank open eyes. The youngest Weasley was clearly dead, though her face was more peaceful than the others. Ron himself stood, flanked on either side, by Death Eaters, who were congratulating him on converting to the Dark Side.

"This is what you wanted isn't it? To be the ONLY Weasley?" His older self asked him, eyes deadly serious, voice filled with sarcasm.

Ron stared in shock at the doppelganger.

How could his older self THINK such a thing of him?

He wasn't like that!

He opened his mouth to reply.

Hermione stared at herself, the younger one, the one that spoke with the wisdom way beyond her years.

"I want to know everything." She paused. "I believe knowledge is the most important thing."

Her childhood self frowned. "Well, if that's what you want…" The young girl trailed off.

Their surroundings changed and Hermione found herself watching herself studying everything in a dark and gloomy home, both Dark and Light Spells, and as she watched herself studying, she saw people coming to her, talking to her, but she paid no attention, and the people stopped visiting her entirely one day.

In the end, she found herself white-haired and old in a cemetery full of gravestones, and on each of those gravestones were the names of people she once knew. She knew she should weep, but then again, she had shunned those who had cared for her.

Her friends, her family, her teachers. All gone while she had been too busy studying to know this. That they had been in trouble, that they had needed her help.

And then, she heard her younger self ask her, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Is this what you want?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply.

There was a long silence between them finally, Harry spoke.

"I want the strength to kill Voldemort." Harry replied. "And I want it to gain vengeance."

His doppelganger stared at him for a moment before casually waving a hand. "Very well then. You want that strength? Here, take it."

Their surroundings shifted and Harry found himself pitched into a war. And he saw the Light and the Dark engage in battle. Spells he both knew and could not name were cast on both sides. As people fell on both side, and the body count kept rising, he saw one by one the defenders of the Light fall, several of whom he recognized, the Weasleys among them, and he could see himself fighting with Voldemort as well. His war-torn older self seemed unusually smug as if he knew something that the younger Harry did not know. Then there was a spell cast that Harry did not recognize and Voldemort fell on his knees and crumbled to dust.

There was a ragged cheer beginning on the side of the Light, which ended all too soon as his eyes, flashing crimson, Harry himself turned against his former comrades, killing them one by one as they stared at him in disbelief.

Harry's incoherent scream of denial pierced the sounds of the Death Eaters cheering, that a new Dark Lord had risen. His teenaged self then asked him, eyes filled with malevolent amusement.

"Is this what you wanted?"