Thanks for the reviews, guys, and sorry about posting the same chapter twice! Guess I should have checked first...well, enjoy!

'Harry! Harry!'

Someone was shaking his shoulder insistently. He groaned, rolling his head away from the sound. Why couldn't they leave him alone? He couldn't quite remember the darkness that faced him if he woke up; he only knew, with a heavy, sick feeling in his stomach, that nothing but hopelessness awaited him.

'Harry, wake up!'

'Don'…wanna,' he muttered, but his voice sounded slurred and heavy to his own ears.

'Harry, for heaven's sake!' Hermione's voice rose in sudden fear and his eyes snapped open.

He remembered instantly: Fred and Lupin and Tonks. Hermione and Ron were looming over him, indistinct shapes; he reached up to adjust his glasses and their concerned expressions sharpened into focus.

'Are you all right, Harry?' asked Hermione, her eyes wide with worry.

''Course,' he muttered, pushing himself into a sitting position. Ron and Hermione were kneeling beside him. 'I just fell asleep, that's all.'

'In here?' Hermione's voice was sharp. 'How on earth did you fall asleep in here?' He saw her glance around at the bodies with a tremulous expression.

'I just did.' His head was throbbing. 'What time is it?'

'Almost midnight,' said Ron. 'We've been looking for you for ages – '

'Everyone's been looking for ages,' said Hermione crossly. 'After Ron came back downstairs and said you weren't in the dormitory. We should get back, everybody was really worried and they all want to get to bed.'

'Well, I didn't ask anyone to look for me,' snapped Harry as he got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. His knees felt weak, and he felt a bit ill as well. 'I don't need people running around after me everywhere I go.'

Hermione looked startled and a little hurt by his retort. Ron also seemed surprised. 'Easy, mate, we were just worried about where you'd gone – wanted to make sure you were OK.'

'Well, I'm fine,' Harry lied.

'Are you, though?' said Hermione, also getting to her feet. 'It took us almost a minute to wake you up! You're really pale, too. When was the last time you had anything to eat?'

'Er…' Harry faltered. He was beginning to feel dizzy now, the walls of the room blurring and swaying. 'Er…' He squinted in concentration. 'Did we have breakfast at Bill and Fleur's?'

Ron let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. Hermione, however, did not look amused.

'Harry, that was a day and a half ago! No wonder we couldn't wake you up, you must have fainted – '

'I didn't faint,' replied Harry, stung; but he was unsteady on his feet as it was, and as his eyes travelled down to rest on Fred's face, his vision suddenly blurred and he felt himself wobble. Someone caught his elbow; Ron's voice seemed to come from a long way off.

'Harry? Are you OK?'

When Harry didn't immediately answer, Ron shook his elbow.

'Harry?'

He blinked hard, attempting to clear his vision. Once again the sight of Fred, Lupin and Tonks lay before him; he couldn't tear his eyes away. He wasn't aware that Hermione was speaking until she moved right in front of him.

'Harry,' she said firmly. 'I think you should go to the hospital wing, you're as white as a sheet – '

'No!' said Harry forcefully. 'I don't need to – '

But the rest of his words were cut off as a shaft of yellow light fell across the darkened room; someone had opened the door from the Entrance Hall and was silhouetted there. 'Ron?' he heard Arthur Weasley call. 'Hermione? Is that you?'

'Yes, we're in here!' Hermione called back. 'And we've found Harry!'

'Oh, good – I'll tell the others.' His silhouette moved away from the doorway and they heard him shouting faintly.

'Come on,' Hermione said, and the three of them moved between the rows of bodies. When they reached the doorway, Harry hesitated for the slightest fraction of a second; it was almost as if he would prefer to stay the dark chamber in which the dead lay, rather than face the outside world. But Hermione's head had whipped around, sharp and suspicious as a snake. He pretended to frown curiously at her before moving out into the light of the Entrance Hall. The door of the chamber closed behind him.

'Harry! Thank goodness!'

Mrs Weasley was hurrying towards him across the flagstones, her red curls bobbing. She engulfed Harry in a brief, warm hug. 'We were so worried, we didn't know where you'd got to!'

'Yeah – well – sorry,' said Harry.

'It's just with everything that's happened – but you're all right, we can get to bed now – oh, there you are, Percy, and George, dear…'

It was with extreme reluctance that Harry looked at George. He was paler than Harry had ever seen him, and dark circles ringed his eyes. But there was something more than that, something deeper. He seemed utterly lost without his twin.

'Hi, George,' said Harry quietly. George didn't reply but simply looked at him with dead, expressionless eyes.

There was an awkward moment in which they all stood there in silence. Harry caught sight of tears sparkling in Mrs Weasley's eyes as she looked at George; then she said, in a falsely bright voice, 'Well, Harry's been found, so we can all get to bed. Let's see – where are our rooms…?'

'Up on the third floor,' said Charlie, who had just crossed the Entrance Hall to them. 'Hey, Harry. Glad to see you weren't dragged off by a couple of Death Eaters.'

Harry managed a weak grin. Charlie threw an arm around George's shoulders. 'You'll be sleeping in with me, mate, that OK?'

George nodded dumbly, and something painful twisted Harry's insides. He didn't speak another word, but simply watched as the Weasleys turned away and began to make their way up the marble staircase. Ron and Hermione remained with him. They were silent for a few moments; then Hermione said suddenly, 'You've to get something to eat, Harry – d'you want me to go down to the kitchens and ask Kreacher to make you something?'

'That'd be great, thanks,' said Harry, and she smiled at him before rushing off. Harry and Ron went into the Great Hall and sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table. The place was completely empty now, and was almost in total darkness, save for the light of the stars twinkling overhead and the gleam of a few candles.

'So…' said Ron. 'Are you all right? I mean, if you didn't want to say so in front of Hermione…'

'Because she would have dragged me straight up to the hospital wing, yeah,' Harry said wryly. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to find the words with which to express himself. Glancing at Ron, he tried to decide if he would understand how Harry felt. He had lost a brother last night, and yet…there was the uncomfortable memory of how he and Hermione had kissed, and Harry wondered, slightly despairingly, would things ever be the same again.

'I'm fine,' he said finally. 'I was just…I needed to find a place to rest.'

'With corpses?' Ron said sceptically, his eyebrows raised. 'I mean, why?'

'Because!' Harry snapped, his temper flaring unexpectedly. 'Just because!'

Ron looked slightly alarmed, and held out his palms. 'OK, OK! I just hope you're not going to make it a pastime, hanging out with Lupin and Tonks and – and…' His voice trailed off; all colour seemed to have drained from his face. Screwing up his eyes, he stared down at the table, his lips pressed tightly together.

Harry didn't know what to say. Slightly awkwardly, he reached out and clasped Ron's arm. To his surprise, Ron clasped his back.

After several moments' silence, Harry said uneasily, 'Ron, I – I'm sorry…'

Ron quickly dragged the sleeve of his robe across his face and shook his head, managing a pained smile. 'No, it's OK, I'm OK. It's – it's George.'

Harry recalled George's empty, expressionless eyes and felt that dull, terrible sensation in his stomach and wondered how Ron could smile at all.

'I just don't know how he'll cope,' Ron went on. 'They – they – they were always together, you know? I don't…I can't imagine…'

'Yeah,' said Harry heavily.

'And Mum. Though she's taking it better than I would've thought…probably just glad she didn't lose more of us.' Ron took in a deep, shaky breath. 'But it's over, isn't it? You-Know – I mean, Voldemort's gone. It's over. It's really over. And you're still alive!'

Harry stared at him, but just at that moment plates and bowls of food began to appear on the table; the house-elves had obviously sent them up from the kitchen at Hermione's request. Ron let out a low whistle at the sight of all the food.

'Must've been Kreacher, there has to be enough here for twenty people,' said Harry, pulling a bowl of tomato soup towards him.

' "You are much too skinny, Master Harry, you are not eating enough," ' Ron rasped in an imitation of Kreacher's bullfrog voice.'Yeah, well, I'll help you with some of this. I've just realised I'm starving.'

They ate in silence. Harry, too, had been ravenous…but somehow, the soup was oddly tasteless; yet it seemed to be the only thing that he could stomach. When he tried more solid foods they had the taste and texture of cardboard, and he was unable to swallow them, as if there was a lump in his throat. But he found that he didn't want the food very much anyway; it was as if his appetite had disappeared as the food had appeared.

As Ron was stuffing sausage rolls into his mouth and Harry was half-heartedly toying with his soup, the sound of the door creaking open made them both glance up; Hermione was hurrying towards them, barely visible in the dimly lit hall.

'Kreacher sent up a lot, didn't he?' she said breathlessly, slipping onto the bench beside Harry. 'I tried to tell him that only a bit would do and that he should go and get some rest, but he wouldn't hear of it. I think it's disgraceful, after all the house-elves did for us and now they're back to slaving in the – '

'Hermione,' said Ron, rolling his eyes as he gulped at a goblet of pumpkin juice, 'can't you give SPEW a rest? Just for tonight?'

Hermione's eyes narrowed at once.

'Of course, that would be a typical reaction,' she said frostily. 'Putting off discussing the issue, postponing action, while the house-elves get on with their work, never complaining, and after a while they're forgotten about, and nothing has been done for them at all.'

'It's not like I told them to go and start working in the kitchen!' said Ron indignantly. 'Anyway, you're the one who got Kreacher to send up all this food, aren't you?'

Even in the flickering candlelight it was easy to see that Hermione's cheeks had flushed pink.

'Well,' she said, flustered, 'that was different, Harry hadn't eaten. But Ron…I really thought you had changed your mind about SPEW and decided to take positive action!' She looked hurt.

Ron, however, did not notice; his attention was riveted on a plate of ham sandwiches in the middle of the table. ''Course I did,' he said absently. 'I just think you should give it a rest for a while. I mean, a day after Voldemort's been killed and you're already going on about SPEW?'

The two of them bickered all the way up from the Great Hall to the common room; Harry was almost relieved, as it meant they hadn't noticed he'd barely eaten or spoken. When the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, he had to turn to shush them; everyone who was left in the common room was sound asleep, stretched out on sofas or slumped in armchairs.

There was only one person who was still awake: Ginny. She jumped up from an armchair beside the fire as they entered, and hurried over.

'There you are, Harry,' she said, looking annoyed. 'Everyone was looking for you, and nobody bothered to come and tell me when you turned up! Only that I passed Charlie, and he told me, I'd probably still be looking.'

Harry tried to smile at her, but his cheek muscles felt stiff and unused. 'Why haven't you gone to bed?'

She cocked her head sideways, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 'I'm still waiting for my goodnight kiss, aren't I?'

He moved towards her and she slipped her arms around his waist as she pressed her warm lips to his. Harry closed his eyes and let all thought, all feeling, all pain drift away, simply breathing in her sweet flowery scent, letting himself just be in the moment and not have to think about the deaths and horrors that had passed.

'Oi,' said Ron from behind them, but it was in a half-hearted way, as if he knew when he'd been defeated.

'You can't tell us to stop kissing, you prat,' said Ginny angrily, as she and Harry broke apart. 'Especially not when you're going to be so hypocritical about it.'

'She's right, Ron,' said Hermione. She looked nervous. 'And anyway, aren't you going to…you know…?'

'What?' said Ron, distracted.

Harry placed his foot on top of Ron's and pressed down very hard.

'Ow! I – what?' Ron was clearly nonplussed. Hermione bit her lip and glanced away.

'What Hermione means,' said Ginny in a cold, hard voice – it sounded as if she had a tenuous grip on her patience – 'is that she would also like to be said goodnight to.'

'Oh,' said Ron slowly, comprehension dawning on his freckled face. 'Right. Um…'

He tripped towards Hermione; she looked petrified as he stood in front of her for several moments, completely still. Then, awkwardly, he leaned forward and bent his head sideways, clearing his throat, before the two of them clumsily leaned forward to press their lips together. Both of them were completely still, with their arms hanging by their sides. Harry could see Hermione blinking even as Ron kissed her.

After several tortured seconds, Ron abruptly leaned back, straightening up like a shot. Harry exchanged a quick glance with Ginny; her expression was one of mingled amusement and exasperation.

'Um,' said Hermione, who was a much deeper shade of pink than she had been in the Great Hall, 'thank you, Ron.'

Ginny was clearly restraining herself with great difficultly. 'Well, Hermione,' she said in a brittle tone, 'now that that's…over with, d'you want to head up to bed?'

'All right,' said Hermione, her eyes flicking to Ron. 'Goodnight, Ron.'

He made a non-committal grunt, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

'Goodnight, Harry.'

''Night, Hermione.'

When the two girls had headed up the stone staircase, Harry glanced at Ron, struggling to hide his amusement. 'That was, er…smooth.'

'Shut up,' muttered Ron, now staring at the closed door to the girls' dormitories. 'I just need more practice…'

'Didn't you have plenty of practice with Lavender?'

Ron grimaced. 'I s'pose. But Hermione…she's different.'

'Yeah, I know,' said Harry, without thinking; he was distracted by the painful memory of Lavender Brown being attacked by Fenrir Greyback.

Ron's head whipped around towards him. 'What do you mean, "you know"?' he echoed, his voice sharp with suspicion.

Harry looked at him for several seconds, blinking, trying to clear the fuzziness from his brain. 'I…what? What are you talking about? I didn't mean it like that!'

'Right, right.' Ron dragged his heels and was silent for a moment or two as the two of them began to make their way up to the dormitory. Then he burst out, 'But, Harry!'

There was such anguish in his voice that Harry stopped dead in his tracks, alarmed. He turned to face Ron; the two of them were standing in the middle of the stone staircase. 'What is it?'

Ron's face was pale, and he seemed unable to go on. Harry was uncomfortably reminded of the time Ron had accidentally taken a love potion and expressed his undying love for Romilda Vane.

He glanced over the banister at the sleeping shapes of the people sprawled on sofas. 'This is about Hermione, isn't it?'

'Yeah,' croaked Ron. 'I just – I mean – I don't – Harry…she does like me, doesn't she?'

Harry had to fight down a rising urge to laugh as he looked at Ron's anxious expression. 'Like you? Ron, mate, she snogged you. Right in front of me. What else could it mean?'

'Yeah, but I thought…maybe she only did that because, you know. We didn't know how much time we had left.'

'Ron,' said Harry, 'you're my best mate and everything, but really, you can be an idiot sometimes.' At Ron's indignant expression, he went on, 'Look, just take it from me. Hermione likes you. She has for ages. Okay?'

'Okay.' Ron looked a lot happier, and then said, 'Anyway, while we're on the subject of not knowing how much time we had left…Harry.' He crossed his arms, frowning suddenly. 'I didn't get a chance to ask you before, but…why? Why'd you go off to the Forest like that, knowing you were going to die, and…well, not tell Hermione and me?'

His look was challenging, but Harry could see something like hurt in Ron's eyes. He sighed, and looked once again down at the silhouettes of the sleeping Gryffindors in the flickering firelight. 'Do we have to talk about this now?'

'Everyone's asleep,' said Ron. 'I just want to know, OK? Why'd you go off by yourself without telling Hermione and me?'

'Well, for starters,' replied Harry, 'you would've wanted to come with me.'

'So what?'

'What do you think?' Harry forgot to keep his voice low. 'Did you really believe that I'd let you come along just to have Voldemort kill you?'

'But he killed you.' Ron was still pale. 'Sort of.'

'Yeah, and that had to happen, didn't it?' said Harry impatiently. 'Did you want him to kill you or something?'

Ron sighed. 'Of course not.'

He didn't seem to have anything else to say on the subject; but looking at his friend's shadowed face, Harry suddenly felt a desire to explain.

'It…it wasn't easy,' he began haltingly. 'You know, going to face him, and – and knowing that I was going to die, it was all going to…end…and that I wasn't going to see you or Hermione again…or Ginny…' He'd thought that he'd used up all his tears as he lay beside the bodies of Fred and Lupin and Tonks, but he found that his eyes were wet. For some reason, he didn't care anymore. 'I couldn't face any of you and know that I was saying goodbye for good. If I had, I dunno if I could have gone through with it.'

Ron swallowed very hard.

'Well,' he said hoarsely, ducking his head and making a quick movement of brushing his sleeve across his face, 'I…OK. I didn't realise…didn't think about what it must've been like. But you got to admit,' he added, looking at Harry again, 'us thinking you were dead was no picnic, either.'

'I'll grant you that,' said Harry, grinning at him, and the two of them made their way up to their dormitory.

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Criticism welcomed!