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Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing in the doorway leading towards the Great Hall. People were milling around, talking in hushed tones. Stuttering breaths blanketed all words like fog falling in a forest. A small intake of air from Hermione. Her face was pale, mouth partially open. Her eyes softened, tears reflecting the lanterns. She sniffed quietly.

The mood of the room was mournful. People were hugging each other, whispering comforting words of lies. There were people standing, next to the line of corpses on the floor. People Ron didn't want to see lay there. Tonks and Lupin. They had just had their child, they would never get to see him grow. They looked ghostly pale on the floor. Cheeks sunken in, the effects of death were quick.

Ron glanced sideways at Harry. His face was horrible. The corners of his eyes crinkled, but in nothing similar to a smile. Guilt reflected in his eyes, along with the bodies on the floor. He let out a long drawn out breath. He blamed himself for every body laying in a row, Ron knew it. He should have told him that it wasn't his fault. That nothing would change if he went in the forest. But instead, he saw Fred.

Fred, his last words a laugh. Always joking, keeping the mood light hearted, but when he was gone, he was like a suction. Everything else went down with him. George was kneeling at his head. Always identical, but now separated by death. His face was twisted with grief. Red with tears glimmering on his face. His whole body racked with sobs, unable to keep upright. Ron should have stayed with Harry, but he went to George.

Hermione was following him right behind him, and Harry probably was too. Everything was swept from his mind, Voldemort, the horcruxes, the Death Eaters, the only thing his mind seemed to grasp on was Fred laying next to his twin. His mother, face marked by the last couple of hours turned towards him. Her face crumpled at the sight. She extended her arms, grasping him as he came towards her. Her arms shook.

"Thank... thank god we didn't loose you..." the "too" hung in the air, neither said nor ignored. Hermione went to Ginny. Ron melted in his mother's embrace. She tried to take away all troubles with one squeeze, but they were still apparent, as easily forgotten as the sobs echoing through the room. She pulled back and looked at him. She tried to wipe a tear away with just her thumb, but couldn't even accomplish that. She moved away from Ron and back to her son on the floor.

She returned her position of laying across his chest. His father looked up at him and gestured for him to move down. Ron knelt, replaying Fred's last moments in his head. He locked teary eyes with Percy. He knew he was remembering the same thing. George was close now, almost brushing up against his arm. Ron felt as if he should leave him alone, but didn't move. Grief was hard to fathom. Many attempted in different ways.

George had bowed his head over the body. His whole body shook with the horrid sounds coming out of his mouth. George, always so bright and cheery, right along side Fred, succumbed to the inevitability of grief. Ginny scooted over towards him. She leaned into his shoulder. So many words transferred with out a single one said. He looked at her. Her eyes were swimming, he could see his own face in them.

Bill across from Ron. He had his knees up, eyes watching the scene, not really seeing. Fluer sat to his side, slowly rubbing his arm. Charlie was shaking his head, eyes closed as if he could block it out. As if if he denied it long enough, it wouldn't have happened.

Ron wished he could redo the last three hours. Take a time turner and go back, prevent so many horrible things from happening. If he went back, he would see Fred again. See Lupin and Tonks. At least get a second chance. But like many things, the time turners had been destroyed. Hermione looked at him, hair bushier then ever. It covered her face and got stuck in her tears.

He put an arm around her. He could feel her trembling under his arms. She had always been the strong one, the calm under pressure, the eye of the storm. But now? Who could be calm now? She rested her face on his shoulder and her words came tumbling out with a sob.

"There are so many." Her words were only able to be heard by him, and only intended so. Tears burned his eyes and nose. He blinked and they fell, sliding down his face, halfway down his neck. There were so many here, so many who will never go home. Ron wanted to go home. He wanted to go home and find Fred sitting at the kitchen table, inventing something new. He wanted to go home and see a two eared George grinning at him, or an unscarred Bill. But he had to finish the war. He had to find the horcruxes. And time was running out.

He looked around for Harry. His vision passed many people, but he didn't see the familiar face of his best friend. He thought he was here. A shot of panic flooded through him. Maybe Voldemort had gotten to him. Maybe he'd been kidnapped by a Death Eater, dragged from the hall, but he calmed himself down. Voldemort said he would wait in the forest and Harry wouldn't go there. He had probably gone to see Snape's memories in Dumbledore's office.

Neville walked in at that moment. He spotted them and gave them a grim nod. He gently lowered a body down in the line of the dead. It was too long and ever growing. He walked over towards Ginny and murmured words into her ear.

"There's a girl out there, on the steps. Can you calm her down? I would but I'm..." He didn't need to say what he was doing. Ginny nodded quietly and slipped out of the hall, presumably to comfort the little girl. Neville left as well, Oliver Wood on his feet. Ron shifted and looked at Hermione. She was staring blankly at Fred, eyes unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

"We have to go." He muttered. Hermione nodded in a daze. They made to stand up when a voice stopped them.

"Were you there?" The voice was choked, gritty, heavy. It was filled with unshed tears and grief. It was very different from the usually lighthearted voice of George Weasley. Ron turned towards him. It had been the first time he had spoken since Ron had arrived. He was shaking, face a horrid red. His eyes still swam with tears, refusing to even put up an effort to stop the flow. Ron didn't want to answer the question, but if anyone deserved to know, it was George. He slowly nodded.

"How?" The word was barely heard. George looked back at his twin, his second half. Ron didn't want to tell. He didn't want to go back to the memory of watching his brother be killed. He didn't want to relive Fred's bright grin or last laugh. He could see hear it so vividly. He remembered how it had been cut off by the explosion. He had seen Percy rise up from the rubble, but not Fred. He had remained motionless as he would for the rest of time. Ron didn't want to tell it, but he opened his mouth and started talking.

As he talked, he saw Percy shoot him a glance. Neville had walked in and was giving him and Hermione an odd look. The story brought his mother to more tears. She had grabbed his shirt and couldn't seem able to let go. When Ron had finished, George gave no indication that he acknowledged the end. Instead, he just staying at Fred's head, bowed.

There was a brief moment of silence between the family. Ginny had come back and was in the arms of her father. They were all thinking of what they'd lost, what they'd never get back.

"We need to go." he said to Hermione again. A new found purpose seized him. There would be no more bodies on this floor. He stood up and Hermione came up with him. Ginny looked at the two of them.

"Okay, Harry's probably in Dumbledore's office." Hermione sniffed. They looked at each other, determination mirroring in each other's eyes. They would kill Nagini. They would finish the war.

"Are you looking for Harry?" Came a voice. Neville. He walked over, giving them an odd look.

"Yes. Have you seen him?" Hermione asked, voice small.

Neville nodded. "He was just on the stairs. Was acting kind of strangely." He itched the back of his head. Ron and Hermione shared a look.

"Strange, how?" Hermione seemed suspicious.

"Well, for starters, he asked me to kill the snake." And Ron's world collapsed. No no no no no no. If Harry asked Neville to kill the snake then that means that he... No. Harry would never do that. He would never go to the forest. He was probably just being cautious. Right. That's what Harry does. He makes sure the plan wont fail. But even as Ron tried to convince himself, the last expression on his face kept swimming before his vision. The guilt in his eyes, the fear. No. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

As all these thoughts ran through his head, a magically magnified voice broke through Ron's dazed thoughts.

"Harry Potter is dead." Voldemort's voice boomed through the hall, echoing off the walls. Hermione's eyes mirrored pure terror as she looked at Ron. Ginny leaped to her feet. His mother looked up, eyes red, wide with fear. A little girl let loose a scream. It broke off into sobs, never finishing. Ron's world was gone. Voldemort had to be lying. Harry. No he couldn't be dead. Ron couldn't loose two brothers in one night.

"He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down you lives for him." No no Harry would never do that. He would never leave them like that. He would never leave them at all.

"We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone." His body. No. Harry couldn't be pale and lifeless, laying in a row of corpses. Voldemort's words had no meaning. Harry was alive. He had to be.

"The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters." Ron saw the dead.

"My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished." Voldemort was lying, he had to be. Hermione was shaking her head, muttering the same word under her breath on repeat. She was a broken record.

"Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared." Never. Ron would never kneel to Voldemort. He glanced at the faces around him and knew they wouldn't either.

"Your parents and children, you brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together." People said that silence was deafening, but Ron never fully understood until that moment. The lack of sound was almost like a buzzing or ringing in his ears. It was killing him. Voldemort had to be lying. Harry would never.

A movement caught his attention. Professor McGonagall was moving towards the door. Her face was white and she was shaking with disbelief. People started to follow suit, unwilling to accept that Harry was dead, demanding proof. Ron felt his feet move without them meaning to. He was holding Hermione's hand. Even George got to his feet, blotchy red face a void of all emotion other than grief. No body talked as they all filed outside, refusing to believe his words.

They were outside now, in the courtyard. An army was coming closer. Someone huge was wrapped in chains, being dragged along. Hagrid. There was something in his arms. Or rather someone. A wave of emotion came over Ron. No no no no no. That couldn't be who he thought it was. But, as Hagrid came closer, Ron got a better sight of the person.

Black, midnight hair, reflecting the sun. Robes hanging off of him, the hint of the invisibility cloak peaking out. Glasses, crookedly jammed on his face. Always lopsided. His mouth lolled open, he shook with every step. He was Harry Potter, Ron's best friend in the entire world. He couldn't be dead.

"NO!" The sound came from Professor McGonagall, so loud and startling. Everything was rising in Ron's throat, over coming him. Without any precedence on his part, a word ripped from his throat.

"No!" If only he could will it to be true.

"No!" Hermione was screaming.

"Harry! HARRY!" Ginny was already sobbing, calling out to him, wishing more than anything for a response. Others joined in, screaming to Harry, at the Death Eaters, at Voldemort himself.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort screamed and Ron felt his throat close. He choked for a second on the words he had been in the middle of saying.

"It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet where he belongs." Hagrid's face contorted with pain, but he lowered Harry down at Voldemort's feet. Ron felt bubbling anger rise up in him. Seeing Harry laying dead at Voldemort's feet. He had to act.

"You see?" Voldemort was taunting them. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on other to sacrifice themselves for him." He was wrong.

Ron stared at Harry, his body pressed up against the dirt. The boy who was his best friend. He imagined his self conscious, almost nervous grin. His hair that would never lie flat in the back. The boy who always was on his side no matter what. Voldemort didn't win. Harry won, no matter what.

"He beat you!" Ron bellowed, breaking the silencing charm. It seemed important that Voldemort knew this, that everyone knew this. Harry didn't loose. He was trying to save everyone. Ron felt hot tears slid down his face. A sob broke through him. Harry, oh Harry. Hermione had a hand clamped over her mouth, tears spilling over her knuckles. Ginny was being held back by her dad, trying desperately to reach Harry. His mother was crying, face red, clutching her chest.

Voldemort was talking again. Rage and grief consumed him, drowning out all sound. "-killed while trying to save himself-" was all Ron heard before he saw Neville break away from the crowd. Luna reached out towards him, conflicted on wether or not she should stop him, or let him say his piece. Neville and Voldemort were talking now, Ron was on high alert. He should be watching Neville, but he couldn't stop looking at Harry. Dead on the ground. Ron couldn't breath.

"Dumbledore's Army!" Neville shouted and Ron joined in on the cheers. They didn't sound happy though. They sounded angry and full of anguish. Voldemort was talking again and placed a hat on Neville's head. Ron and Hermione each grabbed their respected wand in urgency when the hat lit on fire. Ron pointed it at him, the spell for water on his lips when Grawp came crashing into the scene.

Diving towards the side, Ron looked up just in time to see Neville rip the hat off of his head and pull out a glittering sword. A sword Ron had seen clutched in Harry's hands. He watched the blade as it caught the light. It looked like the sun itself. It tore through Nagini's head easily. Hermione gave a strangled sound. Ron whipped his head back towards Harry. He had to protect him, make sure he isn't stepped on, but he was gone.

Rage filled him once again. Some sick Death Eater probably took him. Ron gripped his wand tightly, scanning around to see who had messed with his best friend when Neville yelled for help. Ron took off after him and started helping him with Fenrir Greyback. Hagrid's yell were heard through all the screams of the new battle.

"HARRY! HARRY- WHERE'S HARRY?" He was shouting, tearing through groups of people searching around. While Ron was battling alongside Neville, he tried to choke back his tears. He had lost two brothers tonight. The world had crashed down on top of him, but he was still fighting.

He and Neville together had delivered the finale blow when he heard screams. He turned quickly to see the long, thin end of Voldemort's wand, pointing directly at his mother. No no no not her too. He couldn't stand another. He couldn't even stand these. He raised his wand, hoping to shoot a spell at Voldemort before he could fire his, but he was going to be too late. Always too late.

"Protego!" Came a voice from no where. The voice, he had heard this voice a million different times. He had heard this voice in awe while discovering magic, joking about a teacher or fellow classmate, hard and serious with fierce loyalty. This was more than a voice of a friend. It was the voice of a brother. It was the voice of Harry Potter.

"He's alive!" Came several voices. An almost hysterical laugh came out of Ron's mouth. He was really alive, he was really here. Emotion choked him. His throat and nose were burning. Harry was really here.

"Harry!" He yelled out, not believing that he would ever be able to use this voice directed at him ever again. He heard Hermione's voice from across the hall. They met eyes, Hermione's face beaming with unbelievable happiness.

Harry was talking to Voldemort, back and forth. He was talking about the Elder wand. Ron watched at Voldemort's face slowly became angrier, eyes more narrowed. Ron was trying to follow along, not knowing how Harry knew any of this. All he cared about was that he was here, standing in front of him. Ron saw Voldemort's arm raise, the unforgivable curse on his lips. Harry raised his arm too, and their spells met mid air.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

It was so quick, the rebounding spell. In the blink of an eye, Voldemort had become a shell of a man, another corpse on the ground. Another deafening silence for a split second. Then, the world erupted into sound. Ron sprinted towards Harry, his best friend in the entire world, the boy who had ended it all. He reached him first, gripping his chest with his arms. He felt other bodies rammed into him, but the only thing that mattered was that Ron was hugging Harry, and Harry was hugging Ron.

He was shouting sounds that he didn't even think were real words, but they were drowned out by everyone else. Harry's arms were around Ron and he was laughing a hysterical little laugh. They were all safe. For the first time, there was no threat, there was no nothing. The only thing that mattered was the now.