This is my first foray into HP fic, and I just really wanted to see Ron's perspective on finding out Harry's dead, then not, and then seeing him defeat Voldemort. Plus a tiny extra mostly canon-compliant scene. This focuses on Harry and Ron's, but also the trio's, friendship. Lots of dialogue lifted from DH Chapter 36, "The Flaw in the Plan." I own nothing.
Ron sat with Hermione, his head pillowed on her shoulder, their arms around each other. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Fred's body. He felt numb, empty, and yet still his vision grew fuzzy every now and then as more tears he was too exhausted to hold back filled his eyes. Next to him, Hermione sniffled occasionally, and he thought that she too must be becoming periodically overwhelmed, but she was trying to be strong, for him. He squeezed her tighter, trying to say without words how much it meant to him.
Next to Fred lay Remus and Tonks. Ron didn't want to look at them, didn't want to take in their dead faces and their touching hands. They had just become parents. What business did they have lying so still and silent?
Hermione shifted next to him slightly, and Ron glanced toward the entrance to the Great Hall. Most of their forces had gathered here now, and the room was busy enough that it was hard to see through the sea of people. Ron watched them for a while. Some people, like him, had found a place to sit or stand and were staring into nothingness, or else at a fallen friend. Some were alone, others had their arms wrapped around someone else. Some people stood in groups, speaking in hurried whispers, not wanting to disturb the tomb-like atmosphere that permeated the hall. Ron saw someone checking their watch, and frowned. His eyes darted around the room, and he lifted his head to look at their little group.
"What is it?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Harry," Ron said, suddenly breathless. "Where's-"
"He went to look at Snape's memories, didn't he?" Hermione was quick to reassure him, though a nervous tremble in her voice betrayed her fear.
"Right," Ron said, trying to keep his breathing even. He checked his watch. They had about fifteen minutes of the hour Voldemort had given them left. Harry wouldn't give himself up, he told himself. There was still the snake to kill, and they hadn't come this far only for Harry to give himself up.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Neville coming toward them, and something in him was grateful for the distraction.
"Hi Neville," Hermione said quietly. "You all right?"
Neville glanced at Fred, at Remus and Tonks, at all the other people who would never love or laugh or cry again. "Not really," he replied, just as quietly. Then he straightened up, looked from Ron to Hermione and back again.
"Why is it so important to kill the snake?"
Ron's blood ran cold. Next to him, Hermione stiffened, a shuddering breath running through her.
"Who told you that?" Hermione asked in a terrified whisper.
Neville looked between them, slightly confused at their reactions, before he went pale. "Ha – Harry," Neville stuttered. "He – he said you knew, but just in – just in case…"
Ron looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Ron. And they both understood, in that instant, that there was very little chance of seeing Harry alive again.
But Ron was not going to give up without a fight.
"When?" he snarled, launching himself to his feet, wand in hand. "When did he tell you that?"
Neville took a step back, surprised by his ferocity. "About – about ten minutes ago, maybe?"
"Where? What was he doing?" Ron demanded, dreading the answer.
"Out in the – out in the grounds. He – he said there was something he had to do, but he said he wasn't giving himself up! It – I thought he was telling the truth! I would never have let him go otherwise!"
Ron realized he was trembling. Hermione gripped his arm. Harry could be convincing when he had to be, but the fact that he'd told Neville what still needed to be done, that he was effectively transferring the responsibility of destroying the Horcruxes to someone else, so that Ron and Hermione would still have help…
"He had the Invisibility Cloak, didn't he." It wasn't a question.
Neville nodded. "I – I'm sorry," he said, looking stricken.
"You couldn't have known," Hermione murmured, her voice shaking.
In his heart of hearts, Ron knew that it was hopeless. That even if Harry was still out there, still in the forest on his way to wherever Voldemort's base camp was, they wouldn't be able to find him. He wouldn't allow himself to be found. And calling for him would only serve to bring Death Eaters down upon them.
That didn't mean he could accept it. His best friend, gone. His best friend, dead. It didn't make sense. And it wasn't fair. Hadn't they lost enough already?
Maybe Harry had a plan, Ron theorized wildly. Maybe he had learned something in Snape's memories that told him he could still survive, that Voldemort still wouldn't be able to kill him. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It was all Ron had left.
Until it wasn't.
"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away…"
Ron let out a cry, one of many echoing around the room, and collapsed to his knees. His fists curled into the cold stone floor. He wanted to scream, but couldn't seem to draw breath. He felt like he'd been stabbed. Harry, dead. Harry, gone. It couldn't be real. Harry's face flashed through his mind, laughing as they played Quidditch at the Burrow, smiling in surprise at the Christmas presents at the end of his bed, relieved as Ron woke up after being poisoned, love in his eyes as Ron and Hermione told him the measures they had taken to keep their families safe. Seven years' worth of memories suddenly seemed like nothing at all compared to the potential future memories they had lost.
He was going to kill them, Ron decided. Every single last one of them. Every Death Eater, every pureblooded supremacist, every piece of scum who had ever raised a wand in service of Voldemort. He would kill Voldemort himself, if he had to. He knew exactly what needed to be done for that to happen, after all.
There was the impression of movement around them. And then Percy was pulling him to his feet, arm tight around his shoulders, and Neville was hugging Hermione, and then she was taking Ron's hand and pulling him forward with the stream of people heading towards the entrance of the castle to greet the Death Eaters.
"NO!" Professor McGonagall's scream burned at something deep in Ron, and he pushed his way forward, fighting to get to the front of the crowd, Hermione right beside him. And then suddenly they were at the front, and the sight that greeted them was more terrible than Ron could have ever imagined.
"No!" he screamed, and distantly he heard Hermione and Ginny screaming with him, and he was frozen in the crowd, staring at Harry's body in Hagrid's arms. Harry looked so small and still, and Ron's fury reached new heights, but before he could join in the shouting –
"SILENCE!" There was a bang and a flash of bright light as Voldemort forced silence upon them all that made it almost hard to breathe. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"
Hagrid lowered Harry onto the grass, exceedingly gentle. Ron stared intently at Harry, wishing this into a nightmare, praying that it wasn't true…
"You see?" said Voldemort, pacing back and forth in front of Harry. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"
The words could not be further from the truth. "He beat you!" Ron yelled, and the charm was broken, and everyone else began screaming too, until a second bang silenced them once more.
"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort, and Ron could hear the glee with which he said it, "killed while trying to save himself-"
Out of nowhere, Neville charged. Ron nearly ran after him, but before he could move Voldemort had Disarmed Neville and sent him crashing to the ground.
"And who is this?" Voldemort hissed. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"
Bellatrix Lestrange laughed, and Ron felt Hermione stiffen next to him. He swallowed, trying to push the sounds of her screams out of his head.
"It's Neville Longbottom, my Lord!" she exclaimed, dancing forward a bit. "The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"
"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort. Neville got back to his feet, and Ron wanted nothing more than to run forward and pull him back into the crowd. He couldn't lose anyone else tonight.
"But you're a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked.
"So what if I am?" Neville retorted.
"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."
"I'll join you when hell freezes over. Dumbledore's Army!" Neville shouted, and Ron yelled with the crowd. Neville was right. They were still here, still fighting, and would continue to fight until they won or died.
"Very well," Voldemort said, and Ron shivered at the danger in his voice. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head be it."
Voldemort waved his wand, and something flew out of the castle and into his hand. Ron shifted as he recognized the Sorting Hat, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.
"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"
Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville, who went suddenly rigid under the silent Body-Bind Curse, and then put the Hat on his head. The crowd shifted nervously around them, and Ron raised his wand, but the Death Eaters raised theirs and Ron knew they would all be cursed before any of them could do anything to help Neville. The dread in his stomach increased, squeezing as if it was a physical thing.
"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," Voldemort said, and flicked his wand. The Sorting Hat burst into flames.
Ron screamed, and so did everyone around him, and all at once there was the sound of people coming from the school boundary, and Grawp was suddenly there, yelling for Hagrid, and centaurs came galloping from behind the Death Eaters, showering them with arrows.
And before Ron could take more than a step Neville broke free of the curse binding him, the Sorting Hat fell from his head and he reached inside and drew the Sword of Gryffindor. Nagini reared up in front of him, ready to strike, but in a second Neville had sliced off her head, and Voldemort was screaming in fury, and Ron felt a flash of elation – they could kill him now, there were no Horcruxes left –
"HARRY!" Ron turned, the moment of joy gone as Hagrid screamed. "HARRY – WHERE'S HARRY?"
But the battle was breaking out again and he couldn't spare a moment for the words to sink in, and he was in turns defending himself and attacking any Death Eater he could see, and the crowd was pushing him back into the castle, and he had lost track of Hermione…
House-elves were swarming the entrance hall – Ron thought he heard Kreacher but only just got his shield up in time before yelling "Impedimenta!" at the Death Eater that had tried to curse him; he was blasted away and Ron turned to look for more of them.
He followed the crowd into the Great Hall and saw Fenrir Greyback snarling at Neville, who still held the sword rather than a wand. Ron ran to help, sending a curse as he went, but it missed and hit the wall behind the werewolf instead. Neville slashed ferociously at Greyback, and Ron deflected the curse sent at Neville. This was the bastard that had kidnapped them, that had brought them to Malfoy Manor, that had leered at and threatened Hermione… He let his anger grow and fought furiously, and Neville was getting in cuts at him, and finally Ron sent Greyback flying back into the wall. He heard a satisfying smack as his head hit stone, and the werewolf fell and did not get back up again. Ron pointed his wand at him and chains appeared, snaking around him for good measure.
Neville turned away. "Thanks," he said, grinning, and somehow, inexplicably, Ron found himself grinning back.
"Nice one with the snake."
They turned back to the room as one, but there were only a few people still fighting. Voldemort was on the far side of the room, but closer to them Bellatrix was fighting Luna, Ginny, and Hermione. Ron's smile slipped off his face, and his heart jolted as he saw a jet of green light nearly hit his sister, but before he could run forward someone shouted, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"
Ron turned, hardly able to believe his ears, and sure enough his mother was running at Bellatrix, who spun away from her opponents to laugh.
"OUT OF MY WAY!" his mum yelled, and she was dueling. Ron had never really imagined his mother dueling, even though he knew she must, sometimes, she was in the Order, after all, but watching her now was like watching a hurricane. Molly Weasley was a force of nature, ferocious and angry, and the floor around her and Bellatrix seemed to crack, and Ron was caught between terror and a ridiculous urge to grin in amazement.
"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students closer to the fight ran forwards to try and help her. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"
Everyone not fighting was now gathered around the walls; Ron edged along in front of them, wanting to be closer to the fight, wanted to be close enough to help his mother if she needed it. He reached Hermione and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it so tightly Ron didn't think she'd ever let go.
"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix taunted madly. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"
"You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!" Mrs. Weasley screamed.
Bellatrix laughed, and his mother's curse flew beneath her arm and hit her in the chest. Bellatrix's smile froze, and for a moment Ron thought she understood what had happened, even though he could hardly believe it himself, and then she fell, and Ron roared with delight with the rest of the crowd.
Across the room Voldemort blasted McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn away, and then he turned. He raised his wand.
And he pointed it directly at Ron's mother.
Ron felt himself pitching forward before he had consciously thought about doing so; from the corner of his eye he saw his father and Bill begin to move as well, and then at the same time as Hermione began to pull him back a voice from nowhere shouted, "Protego!"
Harry appeared in the middle of the room, tossing the Invisibility Cloak aside. "Harry!" Hermione screamed, but Ron couldn't draw breath, the relief of seeing Harry alive making him light-headed. Alive. He was alive.
The moment of joy was gone almost as soon as it had come; a silent fear fell over the crowd as Harry and Voldemort began to circle each other.
"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said, his voice loud and clear. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."
Voldemort hissed at him. "Potter doesn't mean that. That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"
"Nobody," Harry said, and Ron marveled at how calm he sounded, and Harry's self-assurance calmed Ron in turn, and he found himself able to take a slow breath.
"There are no more Horcruxes," Harry continued. "It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"
"One of us?" Voldemort jeered, his eyes staring maliciously. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"
"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" Harry asked. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"
"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort as Ron's breath caught in his throat again; he heard Hermione's hitch next to him as well, and knew they were both imagining it, imagining Harry walking to his death and not lifting his wand in self-defense.
"Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"
"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," Harry replied calmly. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-"
"But you did not!"
"- I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"
Ron felt his eyes pricking with tears; he had been able to break through Voldemort's first silencing charm, it hadn't even taken any effort – it was Harry's sacrifice that had allowed him to do that.
"You dare-"
"Yes, I dare. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"
Ron thought he saw a flicker of doubt in Voldemort's eyes, and his hope grew, Harry knew something, had learned something…
"Is it love again?" Voldemort sneered. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter – and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"
It wasn't true, but he knew, watching Harry, as certainly as he knew that he would gladly run forward and prove Voldemort wrong, that it wouldn't be necessary.
"Just one thing," Harry said.
"If it is not love that will save you this time," Voldemort said, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"
"I believe both," Harry replied calmly, and Voldemort laughed, the sound of a madman.
"You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"
"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."
"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"
"No, he was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man."
"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"
"You thought you did," said Harry, "but you were wrong."
The crowd shifted, drew breath, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. What was he talking about?
"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort screamed. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"
"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."
"What childish dream is this?" Voldemort was staring at Harry with an intensity that scared Ron.
"Severus Snape was never yours," Harry said. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"
Voldemort remained silent, and still they circled each other.
"Snape's Patronus was a doe," Harry said, and a memory flashed through Ron, of a silver light and a frozen pond, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized, he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"
"He desired her, that was all," Voldemort sneered, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him-"
"Of course he told you that," said Harry, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"
"It matters not!" yelled Voldemort. He laughed again. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways you do not understand! Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"
A bolt of understanding passed through Ron. Did it matter, if Dumbledore had, as Harry said, asked Snape to kill him? Ron remembered their conversation with Ollivander. Did it mean that the wand had never passed to Snape? Had its power died with Dumbledore? Or was there something else, some other reason the wand wasn't Voldemort's, as Ron was sure now Harry believed…
"Yeah, it did," said Harry. "You're right. But before you try and kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done… Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"
"What is this?"
Hermione's words came floating back to Ron, what she had said about putting yourself back together before they'd left the Burrow, what seemed like a lifetime ago now… "Remorse. You've got to really feel what you've done."
"It's your one last chance," Harry said, and Ron looked at him, looked at his best friend who even now was offering his worst enemy the chance to stop, to repent. Something in his heart grew warm. "It's all you've got left… I've seen what you'll be otherwise… Be a man… try… Try for some remorse…"
"You dare-" Voldemort began angrily.
"Yes, I dare," said Harry, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."
Ron hadn't thought it possible, but the tension in the air grew even thicker, and he felt rooted to the spot, unable to move even if he wanted to.
"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."
"He killed-"
"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"
"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me that wand! I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"
"You still don't get it Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard… the Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who had never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance…"
Hermione's grip shifted in his; she had realized something. Ron remembered what Harry had told them the night Dumbledore died, and came to the realization just as Harry said it.
"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."
There was a slight movement in the crowd, against the wall on Ron's right. He saw a flash of blond hair but didn't dare take his eyes off of Harry.
"But what does it matter?" Voldemort asked softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"
But Ron had realized something else as Voldemort spoke – Harry had grabbed three wands out of Draco's hand the night they had escaped from Malfoy Manner, he had even asked Ollivander about it… "Was? Isn't it still his?" "Perhaps not. If you took it-" "-I did-" "-then it may be yours… where a wand has been won, its allegiance will change." Did it matter that none of those wands had been the Elder Wand itself?
"But you're too late," Harry said. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him." The eyes of everyone in the Hall flickered to Draco's wand as Harry twitched it. Ron hardly dared to breathe. Something was going to happen, and very soon…
"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."
Sunlight streamed suddenly into the Hall, and Ron heard two shouts…
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
There was a bang, and golden flames erupted where the two spells hit one another, and then the Elder Wand was flying, spinning towards Harry, and Voldemort was falling backward. Tom Riddle hit the floor and did not move, and Harry stood still, staring down at him, two wands in his hand.
There was a moment of silence, and then the crowd was roaring, and Ron was running forward with Hermione, and he wrapped Harry in the fiercest hug he had ever given, and more and more people piled on top of them, reaching for Harry, trying to touch him, hug him, thank him. Slowly Harry, Ron, and Hermione sank to the ground, heads pressed tightly together, breathing one another in. They made no move to release one another even as, eventually, the crowd began to ease up on them, and Ron needed this moment as badly as he knew Harry and Hermione did, because it was over, and they were alive. They were alive.
"You utter git," Ron whispered when it was just the three of them tangled on the ground together, when the crowd had understood somehow, had retreated to give them a moment to themselves. "Don't you ever do that again."
He felt Harry's grip tighten on his shoulder. "Sorry," he muttered. "It was the only way."
"We've alive," Hermione whispered. "It's all right. We're alive."
Ron wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. He let out a shaky laugh and curled his hand tighter into Harry's hair.
"Thank you," Harry whispered, and his voice was so full of emotion that the tears in Ron's eyes threatened to spill. "For everything."
Ron opened his eyes and glanced up; Harry and Hermione's faces were so close, their foreheads pressed to his, and his own eyes so wet that everything was blurry. "No, Harry," he said softly. "Thank you."
His words broke through something in Harry, and he let out of a choked sob which quickly resulted in Ron and Hermione letting their tears spill as well, and after a moment Ron wasn't sure if they were laughing or crying.
Harry lifted his head, and the three of them looked at one another. "You're okay," Harry whispered. Hermione smiled tremulously, and Ron swallowed.
They stood, and it felt a massive effort to let go of each other. People were already beginning to swarm them, and Ron caught Harry's eye in a silent question. He would fight through the crowds to get Harry some peace and quiet, if necessary. Harry smiled softly in thanks and gave a small shake of his head, before turning to smile instead at someone who had grabbed his hand to shake.
He would be okay, Ron thought, as he and Hermione went to try and find a place to sit to wait for him. They were accosted too, and it seemed people hardly knew what they were thanking them for, they had only deduced they must have been with Harry, helped Harry, and somehow that made them heroes too. In Ron's opinion, every single person who had fought here tonight was a hero.
But only a few people truly mattered to Ron right now, and as he and Hermione found a bench he took her hand. His gaze sought out every member of his family in the crowd, and he swallowed past the painful lump that appeared in his throat as he saw once more Fred lying still and silent. Neville was here too, and Luna. He caught a glimpse of Harry's black hair as he moved between people. He was finally, finally safe. He was alive. And so were Ron and Hermione. And that meant, Ron decided, that though it would take time, they would be okay.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and please review!