CleverWitch, ThingsThatMakeMeHappy, TheCursedPixies(ouch), Bex Drake, Get Your Own Malfoy (Great Name),DragonGirl81, Monstar (I don't wanna clean it up), Lee (other people say I don't haev enough fluff), BeLilyTrix, DarkRaven Haven, YingnYang, Lax (I don't expect that to last), mAI, Dragon Navi: You guys are teh best! Thanks so much all of you!

Krirobe: Oh so fun to read your speculations. Some of which... Anyway Hermione dead! You're the only person who even commented on that! No one else seemed worried! But she's not dead... yet... mwhahaha...

Sami Sue: I try to avoid fight scenes. They're so hard to write. Probably because when I read them in books I skim read them... ahem... which might explain how I missed Sirius's death.. Thanks so much for your review!

AN: Okay, sorry again for shortened review responses, I'm finding it almost impossible. I've finished writing this story but I'm probably going to rewrite the ending. We're looking about another seven or eight chapters not including this one. I'm proud of this chapter...

Chapter Eleven

What he had been threatening to do

No one knew that Harry had faced the Dark Lord that night. He didn't tell anyone. It had been a scene not really worth the publicity it would have gained. It had merely been Harry standing infront of his two friends, one unconscious, the other bleeding profusely from the head near unconscious. Voldemort had thought it was time to end it. But he was wrong. Harry knew this. Voldemort would not decide the time when he was to die. The day was already destined.Seventeen years since Voldemort had first tried would be the day one of them would die. And neither of them could change that.

So Harry had merely fought off the remaining Death Eaters until Voldemort, unable to kill Harry with the same wand had stormed off sulking. Hardly the greatest battle of mankind. As Dumbledore would say Voldemort placed far too much faith in the Prophecy. He didn't understand that if he arranged an attack that the Prophecy would not suddenly alter events so that an opportunity for one of them to kill the other would present itself.

After they had gone Harry had side-along apparated everyone to the Doctor's house where they had all been before. His Muggle wife had nearly fainted at the sight of this strange teenager hovering two other teenagers and carrying a small girl. But had instead managed to fetch her husband before doing the aforementioned thing. The doctor had pronounced Ron's condition, after the attack only days before, near death. He worked on they boy but kept saying 'His strength is not enough to fight this'. And as if Ron could hear, the defiance of being told what to expect of him kept Ron Weasley just alive.

"He'll not live." The doctor plainly told Harry forty minutes later. He got up from Ron who was breathing like a steam engine would. Harry glared at him

"You're giving up!" The Boy Who Lived yelled.

"No, Harry. I've done all I can. I will do all I can whilst he lives. But his injuries..." Harry's face was contorted into such a ferocity. He stormed out the house, banging the door so loudly behind that the doctor jumped. He sighed, a small choke in his throat, a small tear in his eye as he turned to his two other patients.

He attended them to the little girl, whose injuries were serious but left her in a stable condition. The last patient, his daughter's idol, Hermione Granger, needed most of her bones fixed, one of her lungs patched up and re-inflated, spell damage to her body mended, and severe blow to her head fixed. And there was a small chance of brain damage. She was, in fact, fatally injured, but only if left for another hour. What was this madness?

His daughter, Persephone, was a half blood and admired Hermione more than he could imagine. They were very similar in appearance, intelligence and interests. Hermione Granger was a hero to his daughter. And now he could see out of the corner of his eye a little figure with bushy brown hair leaning over the banister, watching him.

A rap at the door awoke him from his pain. He looked up sharply, a sudden panic coming to him. What if this was... Come to finish them off? Before he could do anything though, his daughter had opened the door. Terror gripped him. A black figure stood there, tall against the moonlight. "Persephone run!" He shouted a hoarse cry to his daughter and stood to grab her, save his family. But then halted. The figure had stayed him with the palm of his hand face out towards him.

"I mean no harm." In a voice which would have inspired the dead. "It is Hermione..." His voice cut out as the first tremble of emotion hit it. Love. The doctor could smell it a mile away. He had after all, the most passionate and loving story of romance between himself and his wife. Though she always complained he was a romantic. It had been there for less than a millisecond but the Doctor knew what he heard.

"Persephone go to bed." He told his daughter who shut the door behind the new guest and accompanied him into the sitting room. "Who are you?" He asked quietly and restrained as possible.

His daughter answered. "He's Draco Malfoy." The Doctor looked quite alarmed for a second before kneeling down in front of his daughter.

"We'll discuss that tomorrow, my Sephy. Now go to bed." He turned her and nudged her with his hands before standing before the gentleman again.

"My name is not important. I merely wish to heal Miss Granger." The voice with a thick bit of persuasion nudging the Doctor, told him in a calm reassuring voice. And the Doctor being of no mind to argue with such an eminent, handsome, wonderful wizard turned back to his main patient, Ronald Weasley.

Draco Malfoy knelt by her body. He felt nothing. She was bloody and bruised and he felt nothing. He touched her face with his hands feeling the warmth of her skin before he plunged himself into darkness. Draco Malfoy had no healing skills whatsoever. But was he really Draco Malfoy any more?

He felt her. And he felt what was wrong with her... He could see her insides. It was quite disgusting the human body, he reflect absently as he felt himself pulling her body back together. All red and blobby. It took less than five minutes. And throughout it he had the 'Ride of the Valkyries' playing in his head.

He assured her mind into a deep sleep, her face no longer black and blue with bruises. Instead it was a natural hue, and he was proud to see he had rid her of any imperfections. She would be just like him. He grinned deeply before turning to stand again. The girl, daughter, was standing there staring up at him. He felt a twinge of annoyance. She pointed to something behind him and he slowly turned to see a thing with a mop of blonde hair lying dead on a couch. He turned back to the girl who seemed rather surprised that he wished to do nothing about the blonde hair.

He went to pass her but she moved in his way. He moved again. She moved. He wanted to alter her brain. Perhaps make her think she was a chicken. He always loved seeing mudbloods...

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Hermione awoke with a jump. It was morning and a pale light streamed in through a light curtain onto her face. She felt her head, as she remembered something of her last thought, but there was nothing. Perhaps a dream? But no, she saw Ron, breathing louder than he snored, across from her dark marks bruising his pale skin. And Mercury. Still. But breathing. Sleeping. She must be sleeping.

Hermione moved round the small coffee table which broke up the space between the three sofas they all had lain upon. Her muscles were stiff from sleep but nothing more. She should be near death. Like Ron. "Miss Granger?" She spun round to where a man with slightly eccentric hair stood holding a mug of what smelled like coffee. "I'm Erlis Grint. I'm a doctor and a healer." She nodded numbly before turning back to the pale boy before her. She took his hand in hers. His cold hand.

Her mouth widened and she had to bite her lip to stop herself letting out an unladylike sob. But she couldn't hold it in for long and it came out in the bitterest of moans. He wasn't dead yet. She felt another wrenched from her and she bent her head to his hand sobbing with the agony of her heart. Only days ago she had been saying... how Ron was nothing to Draco and Nott... but now... he was so much more... She loved him...

"Hermione! Hermione!" His voice drifted back to her from the muggy depths of blackness. Like a dream which you have and only remember when something triggers the memory. "Wake up! Hermione" Ron's frantic voice. So faint, so far away. But filled with pain and passion. He loved her. OH and what a wretch was she to think of others over her best friend. Yet even with this thought, her instincts of him were not of that kind of love. "Hermione, I love you, wake up, I want to let you know! Hermione!" What pain was in those words and that voice, nothing can describe. Hermione felt another sob coughing out of her as she felt these words. Were they dream or memory she did not know only knowing that the emotion they had was real. "I want to let you know, I love you, before I die. So wake up. You have to wake up. Hermione! Hermione!" The last voice was more a scream than a name.

Hermione collapsed into her guilt and pain and wept. She wept the tears for herself, for Mercury and for Ron. Betrayal, the bitterest of all tastes. Hurt and pain swept through her like the never-ending tides. And the laughter of a madman tested her ears with sweet poison. She wept for them all. For life was a cruel master and cast the cruellest jokes.

After the oceans of tears ran dry, her head ached, and her thirst dyer did her thoughts return to the here and the now. And then did she feel the arms around her, the words spoken to her and see the eyes of her dearest friend. Those emeralds. "Harry!" She cried in her hoarse voice and threw her arms back around him. They embraced as those separated for a thousand years.

When they drew back, Hermione wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. "Sorry, I got a bit emotional." She grinned uncertainly and accepted Harry's hand to help her up. He just smiled and nodded, sharing a small grin over her head with the Doctor who nodded and drew back into the kitchen. Harry moved her back to her seat and they sat unconsciously close together, their arms around each other staring at their unmoving friend.

"He sounds like Darth Vader." Harry said in an attempt to be cheery. Hermione attempted a smile. "I don't know what happened." Harry answered, the unvoiced question that hung in the air. "Only the Secret Keeper knew where we were so he must have betrayed us. I'm sorry Hermione. I'm so sorry." His voice cracked a little, the control slipping. She shook her head to warn off his forthcoming apology. He stopped and regained himself as they continued to stare at the unmoving figure. "I'll find him. And..." He stopped again. The pause lasted longer. "You healed very fast. The doctor said you'd be out for hours. But apparently he even surprised himself with the quality of his healing." He squeezed her shoulders and they held hands together leaning on each other, staring at Ron. "It was never meant to be like this. He's taken so many of you. I swore after..." He stopped again, not wanting to cry. Harry Potter would not cry. Not yet. Not until...

"Harry." Hermione lay her head on his chest. His arms reached round her and they felt the bound between them that nothing would break. A small hand gripped Hermione's and Harry's and they jumped from their revelry of Ron. "Mercury." Hermione said taking the little girl up from the floor where she stood staring at them in almost awe. Hermione glanced at her best friend unsure whether he wanted her to send Mercury away but instead he held out his hand as if to shake it.

"This is a time for building bridges, Hermione." He whispered to her. "That bloody hat never shut up about them did he? I think this is really the time for new friends." He told them both, his voice rusty against the pain he felt and the sadness. Mercury's small hand touched his and they shook slowly in front of Hermione. The scruffy haired girl marvelled at her friend's ability to accept that idea so against his nature, at a time like this. "Good morning Mercury Malfoy. I'm a friend." He said to the girl who nodded slowly and shook his hand.

He then smiled and pulled her to him in a hug. She squirmed a bit before submitting to it, though not without a glare at Hermione. Hermione was too proud of her friend to feel anything but that at the time. They then settled. The girl, Mercury sat in between their legs, not leaning on them at all whilst the two friends leant on each other and the sofa behind. All facing the Darth Vader impersonator.

The Doctor came in offering the perfunctory "Tea, Coffee? Biscuits?" All were refused graciously, except biscuits which were accepted by the now drowsy girl Malfoy. Apparently the sleeping draught had not worked as well as it should and instead of keeping her in a deep sleep now left her with drowsy intervals. Perhaps that was best. She was surely too young to experience this. But neither friend were willing to leave their friend to entertain the child. And neither were willing to place her in the hands of someone else. So they sat there. Waiting.

Erlis Grint came in with the Daily Prophet. Although living in a Muggle neighbourhood he apparently still got the newspaper. The headlines screamed of "Harry Potter Disappears!" The Wizarding world was in uproar. But Harry and Hermione didn't care. Erlis mumbled something about telling Bill Weasley they were alright. But they didn't care. For Ron's breathing was getting softer. He no longer let out breaths like a Rhino.

Hermione's jaw hit the upper one repeatedly. She felt more tears well up in her eyes. Ron. She coughed. And spluttered. And hid her face in Harry's neck. Ron was dying. He was doing what he had been threatening to do since he met Harry Potter on the Hogwarts Express.

She looked up to see the last breath drawn from his body, as he slipped into eternal rest.

Ronald Weasley was dead.

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