Disclaimer: Nope.

Author's Note: Thank you so, so much for all the wonderful reviews. I appreciate them all.

Thank you for your kind words. It's enough that you called our ... erm ... next so-called leader by his proper title, lol. I'm glad that you're on my side. All I can really do is carry on as best I can, and maintain the things I love. Plus, I have "Sturgis". The human being he's based on is now more important and vital than ever before, and more amazing than I ever could have imagined.

I'm really glad you're enjoying how I'm writing Harry and Susan's slow build. Like I said, I'm going to immensely enjoy writing when they actually get together, and what happens between them.

I'm glad you liked Jeff's apology as well. And yes, forgiveness isn't that easy, especially after everything he's said and done. I'm glad you liked that I didn't have everyone forgive him right away. I definitely wanted to write Jeff as more than a one-note character that's angry all the time.

Yes, the detail in the chapter about the dogs is inspired by my blindness, but I do like to think that others might have those quirks too. Plus, when the dogs are barking, Susan cannot see them because they're somewhere else in the neighborhood. That definitely does come from my own experience, though. There're several dogs in my neighborhood that bark all the time. My husband Ryan and I have this funny thing we do where we name all the dogs. We don't actually know their names, but we know which dog it is by their bark. Therefore, we just call them by the name we've given them whenever they do. It's hilarious.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. This is a pretty intense one - after all, there's something absolutely huge that Harry hasn't told his friends yet.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was Sunday, the very last day of the parent-teacher conferences. There had been so much anticipation in the air about them, and they were all anyone had talked about ever since the news came that the governors and the Ministry had accepted the proposal.

Ron hadn't wanted this last day to come, because it meant that after this, Harry would be gone again. He and Hermione wouldn't see him until the Christmas break, which was over a month away.

The last few days with Harry had filled him with nostalgia. While he was beating his best mate to a pulp at chess, when he saw the smile on Harry's face as he and the twins bantered, and as he saw him eat the Hogwarts food heartily - he could pretend, for one shining moment, that there was no war. Voldemort hadn't returned, there had been no petition to kick Harry out of Hogwarts, and the boy who was as good as his brother hadn't gone through absolute hell that summer.

But pretending wasn't reality. Even while Harry was talking and laughing with him, there was still an empty spot at the Hufflepuff table where Cedric Diggory had once sat. There were still glares being sent Harry's way, as he was blamed for something that hadn't been his fault at all. On Thursday night, Ron had been jolted back to reality for several minutes as Harry tried to help Jeff. He had felt completely helpless as Harry insisted he needed to hear him out, and he'd been livid with the absolutely abominable things the older boy had said.

But Harry had been utterly amazing. He had been so strong. He'd displayed that same heartbreaking bravery he'd displayed in that Godforsaken graveyard when he'd looked Voldemort in the eye, knowing he was moments away from the end of his life. It was another of those moments when Ron had been stunned by the lengths Harry was willing to go for others.

Then, there was the naked fear that Hermione, his other best friend and the girl he'd fallen in love with, might have to leave Hogwarts. What if her parents thought that the best thing to do was to pull her out? If doing so would make Hermione safer, then Ron might feel differently about it, and he could better battle his selfish urges to keep her close to him. Didn't her safety matter far more? Yes, absolutely, without a doubt.

But leaving the wizarding world wouldn't make her safer. It would achieve the opposite - she would be in far more danger. Voldemort and the Death Eaters would make it a priority to find her. It was just a fact.

He couldn't quite describe what it did to his heart when she walked back into the common room, tears streaming down her face, but she was smiling through them. "I don't have to leave." Her eyes were blazing with emotion. "My parents ... they want to fight in the war too."

The following discussion had been one that was full of hugs and tears. When they kissed each other good night, there was an enormous amount of relief that was poured into it.

And so, on Friday, Ron felt he could pretend again. But still, he knew it was wrong and he wasn't living in the real world. But Ron had to admit that it was very easy to be selfish, to forget that any terrible things had happened when Harry was smiling at him. He had also lost himself in Hermione's kisses as his best friend had done something extremely considerate and let him and Hermione spend some time together yesterday afternoon. When his bushy-haired girlfriend had explained exactly why Harry had gone off on his own, he couldn't help but feel his heart bursting with love for his brother. Of course it was something he would do - of course he had to be a noble git like that. It was so, so very ... Harry.

It was plain to see, though, that Hermione was also taking advantage of the situation. He realized that she liked to pretend as much as he did, and Ron realized that if she was doing it too, maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Everyone needed ways to cope with the madness that was currently inhabiting their world.

But today, as soon as Ron saw Harry walking towards him as everyone got ready to enter the Great Hall for breakfast, he knew that something was up. When Harry greeted him, he sounded cheerful enough, and he smiled at his friends as his emerald eyes shone out at them.

But Ron couldn't help but notice that Harry's smile didn't quite reach those eyes, and there was a slightly different look in them. The changes were subtle, and Ron knew that many others who weren't as close to him as he and Hermione wouldn't notice it. But Ron had known Harry long enough that he knew something was bothering him.

However, he knew better than to ask him what was wrong in front of everyone, because Harry was doing his best to act like nothing was at all. As hard as it was, Ron put his own feelings aside and entered the Great Hall, helping himself to a healthy amount of breakfast. He and Hermione chatted amiably with Harry, along with many others at their table.

However, after breakfast was over, Ron and Hermione cast Harry worried looks as they left the Great Hall. Once they weren't around so many people, Ron asked quietly, "Is everything okay, mate?"

He was expecting an "I'm fine, don't worry" from Harry. The other boy was exceedingly stubborn, and was well-known for saying he was fine even when he wasn't. Ron had once joked that even if a house was falling down on him, Harry would still say he was fine. That was just how it was.

However, this time, Harry looked at both of his friends meaningfully, and if Ron wasn't mistaken, Harry's eyes had darkened slightly. "I need to talk to you both alone this evening," he said quietly. "It's important."

"We could always talk now," said Hermione, instantly sounding scared. Ron felt his gut clench at Harry's words.

But Harry only smiled bravely at them. "Tonight," he said firmly. "It's ... it's about the war, and I want ..."

In that moment, Ron knew that he and Hermione weren't the only ones who wanted to pretend. Harry had been through so much, and Ron knew it was far from over for him. There was obviously something very important that he wanted to tell his friends, and Ron didn't think he'd change his mind about it if the determined look on his face was any indication. It was clear that all Harry wanted to do was spend another day in comfort before having to break whatever this news was.

Hermione opened her mouth, and Ron knew that she was going to push Harry to tell them now. It was one thing he'd gotten to know about her over the years - she wasn't satisfied until she knew every scrap of information. And, she had always been the one to do the research, to put all the puzzle pieces together. Ron would never be able to forget how much she had fretted about everything during their third year, when she'd been using the time-turner to go to all her classes - not that he'd known at the time that that had been what she was doing, but once he'd learned the truth, it hadn't been a surprise at all.

And Ron knew that she was desperately worried for Harry. Last year, she'd driven herself insane trying to prepare him for each task of the Triwizard Tournament. Ron could recall a time or two when she and Harry had snapped at each other simply because of the anxiety that was plaguing them both. Hermione was determined for Harry to be ready for anything, and even though she never said it, Ron could tell that because of the horrific things Harry had been through this summer, Hermione felt like she had failed him. But this was far, far from the truth.

And now, Hermione was instantly going into that mode again, her mind and imagination running away with her as she tried to guess what this information might be. Ron, however, knew that Harry needed this final day to relax, and the results wouldn't be good if Hermione pushed him. Ron desperately wanted to know, too, but he had to do the right thing in this situation.

So, he gently touched Hermione's shoulder, causing her to look at him. In the next second, she closed her mouth, instantly backing off.

Needless to say, Ron was shocked. In past years, Hermione wouldn't have paid any heed and would have continued to push Harry. It seemed as though their new relationship, plus the fact that both she and Ron had been forced to grow up way too soon, had factored into Hermione's sudden change of heart. No matter why it had happened, Ron was exceedingly grateful. He caught Harry's eye, and the two of them shared a smile.

"Okay, Harry." Hermione's voice suggested that she wasn't happy about leaving things alone for now, but her brown eyes showed her resolve. "We'll talk about it later."

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely as that brave smile came onto his face again. "That means a lot."

xxx

Therefore, Ron spent the day with the two people he knew he couldn't live without. They walked the grounds, visited Hagrid's hut, hung out in the common room, and enjoyed both lunch and dinner. Ron enjoyed the day immensely, but in the back of his mind was the anticipation, the fear of what tonight would bring.

It was one of those days when Ron did and didn't want the evening to come. There was a huge part of him that wanted to live in ignorance, and he understood the expression "ignorance is bliss" more than ever now. If he didn't know what was going on, then maybe it wasn't as bad as what his imagination was creating.

But as dinner drew to a close and Harry led him and Hermione to the same empty classroom they had been in before, Ron knew that he couldn't be a coward. Cowardice had previously been a part of his character, in his opinion - he had been too afraid to own up to the things he needed to change about himself. What had happened to his best mate this summer had truly been a wake-up call for him, and as he'd taken the stand at Sirius's trial, he knew he needed to be brave like Harry. As he'd spoken from his heart about how Harry and Sirius had found a family and they needed to stay together, Ron realized the person he could be. He didn't want to be the jealous, insecure friend with an inferiority complex. He wanted to be someone who Harry could be proud of, who Hermione could be proud of.

Therefore, as they entered the classroom, Ron had a feeling that it would be another one of those moments when he needed to prove to Harry that he could be there for him, that he wouldn't fall apart no matter what the other boy said. Hermione also had a look of determination on her face, but the worry and fear was visible, too. Hermione had always had a hard time hiding her true feelings.

Harry sat down at one of the desks, with Ron on his left and Hermione on his right. It was comforting, and so normal. Harry looked back and forth between them, obviously struggling to find a place to start.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and began. "There's ... stuff that I need to tell you," he said quietly, and Ron hated how nervous he sounded. "I want to tell you everything, but I've thought about it in the last few days and realized that there's some stuff I can't say because of ... er ... security reasons." He looked at his friends apologetically. "There are even some members of the Order who don't know about it," he said softly.

Ron felt his heart jolt within his chest. "Not even the whole Order knows?" Hermione asked in a frightened whisper. "It must be really serious. How ... how do you know about it, then?" she asked hesitantly.

"Because it has everything to do with me." Harry looked at them meaningfully, and Ron could see Harry's fear and vulnerability, even though he was trying so hard to be strong for him and Hermione. Ron's heart ached.

"It's my scar," Harry continued quietly. "Do you remember when I had that ... dream about the false memory of me murdering Cedric?"

"Of course." Ron nodded. He'd never be able to forget the disconcerted feeling upon waking in the middle of the night, and seeing Harry looking horrified. "Voldemort sent me that dream, Ron." He vividly recalled how Harry had spoken those words, and then told him that he literally felt every emotion Voldemort was currently feeling. Ron could barely imagine what that had been like - could there be anything sicker than feeling the monster's satisfaction as he taunted his foe?

"Well ... er ..." Harry's emerald eyes were haunted as he gazed at his friends, and Ron felt his stomach plummet. "The night before term started, I ..."

Ron saw the dawning comprehension come across Hermione's face, and a thrill of unimaginable horror shot through Ron, because he knew exactly what Harry was going to say next.

He and Hermione had discussed it. They'd actually been sure of it, because of what had happened several weeks later when Voldemort and the Death Eaters had somehow been intercepted when attacking random Muggles. They'd guessed who had stopped those attacks and who had saved those lives.

Yet, hearing the confirmation of it from Harry's lips was another matter entirely. It was one thing to suspect what had happened - it was quite another to hear it from the horse's mouth himself.

"I ... I saw the attacks on those Ministry personnel and that old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from the 1980's. I ..." The haunted look in those eyes grew more pronounced, and Ron could hear the horror in his best friend's voice as he said the words that shattered his heart to pieces. "I felt like I committed those murders myself, because I ... I was Voldemort."

"No." In the next moment, Ron grabbed his best mate's shoulders and pulled him into a rough hug. "You're not him," he said fiercely. "I never want to hear you say that again because you're. Not. Him." He could feel himself shaking with anger and grief.

Hermione was in tears. "Oh Merlin," she kept muttering over and over again, and she looked sick. "Oh, Merlin. Harry ..."

Harry accepted the hug from Ron, and seemed to burrow into his best friend. "I know," he murmured quietly. "I know. Sirius ... he's been amazing. I know I didn't kill those people."

Ron could tell that Harry knew those words to be true, but he also knew that no matter how much time passed, the memories of casting those curses, of feeling Voldemort's deranged pleasure would never leave Harry's mind. He would always feel responsible, as he would always feel that way about Cedric's murder as well. Harry was the kind of person who bore everything on his shoulders, and at that moment, Ron wanted nothing more than to take Harry's pain away. How much more could his best friend go through without breaking?

"Don't, Hermione." Harry got out of his seat and hugged the shaking girl. It was so very Harry to comfort Hermione after he'd broken such horrible news. Ron was still feeling wretched himself, but he, too, walked over and gently stroked Hermione's hair. It was one of those moments when the three best friends were so grateful for their incredibly strong bond.

Hermione took some deep, shuddering breaths and stopped crying. Still, her brown eyes were wide with horror as she slowly said, "Ron and I ... we saw the article in the Daily Prophet that talked about the attacks on random Muggles that took place a few weeks after Voldemort's first attacks. Someone stopped them that night."

"It was you," Ron whispered. It was a statement, not a question. "You did that, didn't you? We ... we guessed all along."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I felt like Voldemort then, too, but I reckon that because of my Occlumency training, I was able to break free from Voldemort's clutches and wake up."

It was then that Harry went into detail about what Occlumency was, and why he was learning it. Ron listened, morbidly fascinated and sickened at the same time, while Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers. The look on her face suggested she already knew what Occlumency was, which didn't surprise Ron at all. She looked with compassion, sadness, and horror at Harry during his explanation.

"And ... a few days later, there was another attack and I was able to do the same thing," Harry continued. "That was right before owls had to stop being sent out."

He went on to explain exactly what had started the entire owl dilemma in the first place, with Sturgis's owl being so delayed in arriving at Grimmauld Place.

By the time his explanation was complete, Ron felt completely and utterly broken as he stared at his best friend, his brother. Somehow, Harry was still there with them, still coherent and sane, still able to be quick enough on his feet to think about saving lives after the horrors he had seen. If Ron had been in Harry's position ... Merlin, what would he have done? He was so scared that he'd have been a coward. He was terrified that he'd have been too lost in the horror of feeling Voldemort's emotions, the bloodlust and the joy of torturing and killing, to think about what he could do to stop him. He would have frozen, because no matter how hard he tried, he knew he wasn't brave like Harry. And though his best mate had haunted eyes and looked like he wanted nothing more than to collapse at any moment, Ron knew that Harry was the bravest person he had ever met.

Therefore, he pulled the boy into a hug again, and Hermione joined them. Harry clung to his friends like they were his lifeline, and none of them spoke for several minutes. It was a profound moment between all three of them, full of such intense feelings of love and friendship. Ron normally wasn't so demonstrative with Harry - he remembered that, at first, his best friend had shied away from physical contact. Now, however, it seemed appropriate to hug him.

"This is how you're nothing like Voldemort," Ron whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he embraced his best friend, who seemed to be relishing the contact, allowing himself to get lost in the sensations of having others' bodies close to his.

"Voldemort doesn't know how this feels, and he will never understand. He will never understand love and friendship." There was raw emotion in Hermione's voice as she held onto Ron and Harry, and the latter was now trembling slightly. "This is how you're different from him. Voldemort has sycophants, servants who will do whatever he says. What we have ... it's so much stronger than that."

Those words seemed to open the floodgates, and Ron tightened his arms around his brother as Harry began to weep softly. Ron's heart broke as he listened to Harry's sobs, and all he could do was hold on and pray that this gave Harry any kind of comfort.

Honestly, Harry had never clung to Ron and Hermione like this. Ron's words about how he was different from Voldemort seemed to have brought it on, and Ron fleetingly wondered if Harry was holding on so tightly because he was truly absorbing those words. Ron had no doubt that he and Sirius had had similar moments. How would it feel, to be lost inside all that hatred and anger, the pure malice that undoubtedly made up Voldemort's twisted mind? Ron couldn't imagine even feeling human after swimming through that darkness. He once again marveled at how anyone could come out of that still as sane and pure as Harry was. It spoke of his true strength of character.

Harry eventually pulled away, wiping his eyes and looking supremely embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Ron and Hermione both smiled at him. "Don't be ridiculous," Ron said instantly.

"It's the least we can do, Harry." Hermione's heart was in her eyes as she looked at her best friend with an infinite sadness. "This is so unfair," she whispered.

Harry nodded, those eyes still so haunted. "When I was in his mind ..." he started, and Ron and Hermione each grabbed a hold of one of his hands, as though anchoring him to reality, to his own body. "I ... I felt like I couldn't tell the difference between me and him ... especially the first time. All that hate and anger ..." His entire body shuddered. "I had no idea that anyone could have so much hate inside them. There's literally no positive feeling in him at all. All there is is rage and malice, and all he wants to do is hurt people."

"He's a monster, Harry," Ron said quietly. "An absolute monster."

"And you're his opposite, Harry. And he knows it." Hermione said softly. "He knows you're the light to his darkness, and I reckon that's why he won't stop coming after you."

Harry's face paled at that, and he seemed to grasp Ron's and Hermione's hands more tightly. "He keeps coming after me because there was ... was a prophecy," he said in a whisper. "Professor Trelawney made it before I was born."

Ron heard Hermione snort derisively, and he couldn't help but scoff. "Trelawney? You've got to be joking, mate. You know what a crackpot she is. You can't buy anything she says!"

But Harry continued to look at his friends sadly. "The one she made about Pettigrew came true," he whispered. "And ... it was different, you know? It wasn't her usual rubbish. Don't you remember ..."

Ron felt his heart plummet, down, down, down, down, down. He saw his girlfriend's face at that moment, and it had gone white. "What?" she whispered.

"The prophecy mentioned ... two people," Harry went on. "Two boys who were born at the end of July, and one of them had the power to vanquish Voldemort."

"Two boys?" Ron asked in surprise. "But then ... then, that means ... it doesn't have to be you, right?" He felt a sudden bubble of hope.

But that bubble popped as soon as Harry spoke again. "No. It means me." He sounded sure of it as he pointed at his scar. "As soon as Voldemort gave me that scar, I became the one it was referring to."

"What ... what does this prophecy say?" Ron asked slowly, dread consuming him. In the next second, however, he thought he knew. Wasn't it obvious?

"I ... I don't know all of it," Harry said softly. "I asked Sirius only to tell me the parts that I knew would be important to fight him. Because I'm going to fight him," he said, his emerald eyes, though still haunted, full of an endless resolve which was just so ... Harry. This was the same boy who had looked at them with a determination that Ron had never seen in anyone's face before as he'd told them outright that he was going to save the Philosopher's Stone. He was so willing to put his life in danger for others.

"Why don't you know all of it?" Hermione asked, her brown eyes clouded. "And ... who else knows it?"

"Dumbledore. Dumbledore's known all along. And ... Sirius knew. He hid it from me this summer, but I wasn't angry with him when I found out. Right after Cedric died and Voldemort came back ... when I had to go into hiding ... I was in no shape to handle it. I know that. Sirius was giving me the chance to heal. But ... that first night I was able to wake up during Voldemort's attacks and save lives ... I asked him to tell me. I knew he was hiding something, and I knew it had something to do with Voldemort."

Ron was once again astounded by the bravery Harry possessed. To suffer an ordeal like that, and then, instead of collapsing ... he had asked Sirius to tell him what he'd been hiding. It was truly amazing.

"I asked Dumbledore at the end of first year why Voldemort wanted to kill me as a baby," Harry explained. "He said that he didn't want to tell me then, because I was too young. But I never forgot about it, and the prophecy ... it explains everything."

"Does ... does Voldemort know it, then?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"He knows part of it," Harry said as he explained the events that had defined his entire life.

"If I find out which Death Eater was listening at the door ..." Ron started angrily, the hand that wasn't holding Harry's clenching into a fist as his mind went into overdrive. Rage pulsed through him as he imagined exactly what he would do to that ... that ...

Hermione's eyes flashed with fire. It was the same look she wore whenever Rita Skeeter's name came up. Ron knew that whoever was on the receiving end of that look would not like the results. In all honesty, Hermione was bloody scary when she looked like that. Ron couldn't help the burst of admiration he felt for her. If that particular Death Eater ended up on the wrong end of her wand, the world would be all the better for it. This sick person had sentenced Harry and his parents to death, and once Harry had survived, he'd suffered years of mistreatment at the hands of his relatives before being unceremoniously dropped into a world where people expected so much of him, something that Ron, as his best friend, had been guilty of as well. He felt sick.

Harry smiled at them sadly as he took a deep breath. "I could tell you the part that Voldemort already knows," he said softly. "I ... I asked not to learn the second part because ..."

"You're afraid of what would happen if Voldemort ... if you were captured," Hermione said in realization, her voice shaking. Ron felt nauseous - he literally couldn't think about what would befall his best friend if that happened.

Harry nodded. "I didn't want there to be any chance that I could reveal that information to him," he murmured.

Ron felt his heart racing within his chest. "We understand," he said in a thick voice, and Merlin, he wished he didn't. He wished he could be four years old again, blissfully ignorant of the world around him. The only thing he'd really known at that time was that his mummy got really sad sometimes because she missed her brothers, Ron's uncles, who were in Heaven because a bad man and his supporters had killed them. But the war was over now and there was no need to worry anymore, because people like Ron's uncles had helped to make the world a better place.

"We would like to know the first part," Hermione said in a voice just as thick with emotion.

Harry nodded slowly, and proceeded to recite the first part of the prophecy. Ron felt a shiver run down his spine as the words were spoken. These words had truly changed Harry's life forever.

At that moment, Ron wanted nothing more than for Harry to run away from the prophecy and never look back. Why should Harry have this weight placed on his shoulders? It was cruel. It was horrible. It was so sickeningly unfair.

But Harry said he wouldn't run, and Ron knew that no amount of arguments could convince him otherwise. Voldemort had started the path towards his own downfall by doing what he had done. There were so many people determined to resist, determined to give their all to rise up and fight him with every breath in their bodies. So many people, including him, Hermione, his own family ... they would NEVER be willing to lie down and give up, to surrender, to let him take over. No matter how powerful he claimed he was, no matter how many lives he took or families he destroyed ... Ron wasn't willing to stop fighting. Not for anything.

And, deep down, he had always known that from the moment he'd walked into the girls' bathroom to rescue Hermione from that mountain troll, he'd gotten involved in something he couldn't get out of, and that he didn't want to get out of. Ron knew that if the need arose, he would lay his life down for this cause. When he'd faced that lifelike chessboard, his decision to sacrifice himself went so much deeper. This wasn't just a game - it was real. Ron had known that, even at twelve years old.

"You ... you have to kill him." Ron had never been more sure of anything. "Right?"

And when Harry nodded in confirmation, Ron nodded back. "You'll win, Harry." Hermione spoke with certainty. "You're so much stronger than he is."

There were tears in her eyes as she spoke, and Ron could plainly see the fear in them. She and Ron were so afraid for their best friend.

But they also believed in him. They believed in Harry's purity, in his goodness, in his willingness to defy anything Voldemort threw at him. Ron had absolutely no doubt that Lord Voldemort would meet his own end at the hands of Harry Potter.

"Do you ..." Ron swallowed as he tried to speak. "Do you know who the other person is, who the prophecy could have referred to?"

Harry nodded. "I don't know if he knows, though," he said quietly. "I don't know if I should say anything. And ... it's a moot point now, anyway."

In past years, Ron knew he would have badgered Harry to tell him, but not anymore. He respected his decision not to say anything. This was too big, and when he saw Hermione nod, he knew that even she, the one person who wanted to know every tidbit of information she could get her hands on, would show Harry grace by not asking him any further questions.

Harry smiled at his friends' understanding. "Thanks," he said softly.

"You'll win, Harry," Ron said strongly. "You're going to beat him."

"And we'll help you every step of the way," Hermione said, and before Harry could protest, she went on. "And before you try and tell us that you don't need us to put ourselves in danger for you, that you don't want us to get hurt ..."

Ron could feel Harry's body trembling again, and instinctively, he pulled Harry into another strong embrace, with Hermione joining him. "We know what we're risking, mate," Ron said quietly, with assurance. "We're fighting this war because it's the right thing to do. We make our own choices, Harry."

"You're not forcing us to fight," Hermione added. "Harry, I am a Muggle-born. Even if I wasn't your best friend, Voldemort and his supporters want me and my kind dead. They want nothing more than to crush us under their heel. I would be fighting this war even if I barely knew you, because I belong to this world too and I'm not going to let those monsters tell me I don't. I won't allow them to take my rights from me."

Ron nodded, his own resolve to fight spurred on by Hermione's speech. "And you know very well how those bastards feel about my family, and believe me, it's not just because I'm your best friend. Harry, you can't stop me from fighting in this war. I'm bloody willing to do whatever it takes to see Voldemort defeated."

Harry looked back and forth between his best friends, at the unwavering expressions on their faces, the fierce resolve in their eyes. He looked scared and vulnerable, but he couldn't think of anything to say to dissuade them. He finally seemed to understand that they wanted to fight for their own reasons, that it wasn't just because of him.

But there was still something in Harry's eyes, something that told his friends that he hadn't finished telling them everything. Ron knew he was right when Harry whispered, "There's ... there's more."

His voice was shaking, and his eyes were unbearably old and sad. At that moment, it seemed to Ron that Harry had lived a thousand lifetimes, and he was weary. So weary. "What is it, Harry?" he asked quietly.

"It's ..." Harry opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, making Ron go cold all over, the anticipation making his heart race so fast that he was positive Harry could hear it.

"Look," Harry said finally, "I ... I need you to listen to everything I'm about to say, okay? Please."

"Mate, you're scaring us." Ron spoke in a whisper. "Please, just tell us."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he began.

Ron and Hermione held onto Harry tightly as, slowly, hesitantly, he said, "The ... the stuff I can't tell you ... it has to do with ... experiments Voldemort did with dark magic. They're ... really awful."

With baited breath, Ron and Hermione listened as Harry explained that several different factions, including some members of the Order of the Phoenix, Arnold Dixon, the Mind Healer who had not only taken care of Dumbledore but was helping to heal Sirius, and certain other people at the Ministry were working to find out what Voldemort had done. Both his friends realized that Harry knew way more than he was telling them, and he was choosing his words very carefully. Neither of them badgered him to tell them more, however - after all, he had explained how highly valuable this information was, and that not even the entire Order knew it all.

"Because of the experiments Voldemort was doing," Harry said slowly, "he was ... compromised the night he came to kill me. He ..." His body shuddered, and he closed his eyes. "Mum refused to step aside when Voldemort told her he'd let her live if she'd just move out of the way and let him kill me," he whispered.

Ron couldn't help but wonder why in Merlin's name Voldemort had said such a thing. The monster was not known for making such bargains - he normally just killed his victims outright, no matter who they were. He, after all, had ordered Pettigrew to just kill Diggory - he hadn't tried to negotiate with him to get out of the way. Ron had realized that his old dislike for the older boy had been based on incredibly petty things, and so he knew that even if Voldemort had done that, Diggory wouldn't have stepped aside in order to save his own life. But why had the monster given Lily that option? Ron supposed he would never know, and neither would Harry.

"As you know, when Voldemort killed Mum, her sacrifice gave me protection," Harry reminded them. "The night he came back, when he took some of my blood ... he took that protection into himself. He was able to touch me without it causing him pain."

Ron recalled all this as images of what his best mate had been through after the Third Task filtered through his mind. He would never be able to unhear Harry's screams as Voldemort's long, spidery fingers touched his scar. He remembered vividly how Voldemort's mouth had curled into a lipless smile, and the pure enjoyment that seemed to radiate from him as he listened to Harry scream. Ron shuddered - it had been truly revolting.

"I always ... always wondered why I'm able to feel Voldemort's emotions. Why I'm able to be pulled into his mind while I sleep." Harry's eyes were closed as he spoke.

"Why?" Hermione's voice was barely audible.

"Dumbledore ... he knew all along. When Dixon was healing him, he ... he saw it in his mind," Harry said softly. "Dixon ... I don't know what happened, but for some reason he changed his mind about whether he should tell me and Sirius about it. I reckon he wanted to try and get the situation resolved before he said anything, but ..."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, feeling something ominous in Harry's choice of words. "What do you mean, get the situation resolved?"

"Ron. Hermione." Harry finally opened his eyes, and the look in them broke their hearts. "I have part of Voldemort inside me," he said quietly. "All the experiments he did with dark magic ... when he failed to kill me as a baby and his body was destroyed ..."

"No." Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "No. No. No. You're not saying ..."

Ron's mouth opened in absolute horror. "Part of him went into you?" As he spoke the words, a sense of nonreality swept over him. This ... this couldn't possibly be ...

"Yes." Harry nodded. "Both Dixon and Dumbledore think he didn't mean for it to happen, and that he doesn't even know it's the case."

"So what are you saying?" Hermione and Harry's voices suddenly sounded very far away to Ron's ears.

"I'm saying that ... that ..." Harry opened and closed his mouth again, but he just couldn't say the words.

In a stricken, trembling voice, Hermione was the one to guess the horrible truth. "Are you saying that he can't be killed if that part of him isn't destroyed?" she whispered. "Are you saying that .."

"NO!" Ron's shout of terror drowned out Hermione's horrified voice. "You're not sacrificing yourself! You can't!"

Ron felt sick to his stomach, because everything Harry had been through ... the dreams, the scar pains, experiencing Voldemort's emotions ... he'd never been able to make sense of it before, but now it all came together in his mind, and as he looked into Harry's emerald eyes, his fear was realized. He thought of the amount of times that Harry had been in danger, of how ... of how ...

"Is that why Dumbledore never stopped you from going into danger until it was all over?" The words came from the depths of Ron's soul, words that shocked and horrified him because never, not ever, had he thought anything bad about Dumbledore. Ron had been the one who felt the most guilty at Dumbledore's horrible predicament with those Mind Healers. He had always believed that the old man was arrested because he'd blurted out that Harry had been taken into hiding.

The look of terror, sadness, and revulsion in Hermione's eyes was apparent as she whispered, "Ron's right. If Dumbledore thought that you ... you ..." Tears began to stream down her face, and she began sobbing in earnest.

"There has to be another way!" Ron spoke with desperation because he knew Harry. He knew him. If there was no other way for Voldemort to be defeated, his best mate would sacrifice himself with no regret. No regret at all.

It wouldn't matter to Harry that the wizarding world was utterly fickle, never deciding whether they loved him or hated him. For months, many had thought him a murderer, or blamed him for not saving Cedric, or blamed him for having a target painted on his back and that Cedric happened to be standing beside him at a pivotal moment.

They'd villified him for saving someone's life by talking to a snake. He'd even had his own housemates turn against him for losing bloody House points. They'd accused him of cheating, of lying, of stealing people's glory. Horrible articles had been written about him in the Daily Prophet. They'd called him insane. Crazy. Unhinged. A lunatic.

Yet, Harry would be willing to give his life for all of them so that they could have a future. Ron felt bitterness clog his throat as he thought about how the wizarding world had taken him for granted. And Ron certainly wasn't innocent of it either. Last year, he had been a truly terrible friend to Harry. Now, in these moments, seeing the look in Harry's eyes, knowing that Harry was willing to die for this world ... he felt tears come to his own eyes as he imagined life without his best mate.

Losing Harry had always been a fear that lived deep inside of him, with its origins being at the end of first year when he'd seen him lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. He'd looked so frail in those moments. His breathing had been ragged and Ron had been terrified. For three days Harry had lain in a coma, and it made Ron's injury after that lifelike chess game look like nothing at all. So what if he had a concussion? Harry ... Harry could die. Harry, who he'd thought of as invincible ... he was actually mortal after all. The thought was humbling.

But he had survived. Harry had survived that ordeal, but almost met death again a year later when trying to save Ginny. And then, the following year, he'd had more than one brush with Dementors, and to be Kissed by one would have been a fate even worse than death. And last year ... the image of Harry in the graveyard once again permeated Ron's mind as he faced Voldemort, fully expecting to lose his life in the next several seconds.

But now, the prospect of losing him seemed closer than ever, and he didn't think he'd ever been so scared in his entire life. He held onto Harry tightly, and he had the insane notion that the boy was going to slip through his fingers any minute.

Harry's eyes were full of unshed tears as he looked at his two best friends. "I'm sorry," he choked, his green eyes devastated. "I'm sorry I have to put you through this. But I couldn't ... couldn't hide this from you. It wasn't fair to you."

"You stupid, self-sacrificing, bloody noble git," Ron said as his tears finally made it past his eyes and began to fall. "Can't you just be selfish, for once?"

"What you're putting us through?" Hermione sobbed. "Does it even matter what this is doing to you?"

The truly heartbreaking thing about all of this, Ron knew, was that Harry honestly worried more about the toll this was taking on his friends and loved ones than it was taking on himself. Yet he was the one who had this on his shoulders, who had the horrible knowledge that part of Voldemort lived inside him.

"Guys." Harry looked into the tear-stricken eyes of both of his friends. "Dixon thinks there might be a way to ... to get him out of me, without ..."

And then, he explained everything about his trip to America and his visit with the Mind Healers. Ron and Hermione listened raptly, their cheeks still tearstained, still terrified for the brave boy they were holding, but hanging on to every word, clinging tightly onto every thread of hope there was.

"So they reckon they can do it?" Hermione spoke in a whisper.

"When?" Ron asked, his heart racing.

"Not until ... well ... not until all Voldemort's experiments with dark magic are found and destroyed," Harry said quietly.

"Why?" Hermione asked, and Ron saw the cogs in her brain turning. "Did he put ... a bit of himself into them too?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry didn't confirm or deny this, but the look in his emerald eyes spoke volumes. He had never, ever been able to hide anything from his friends. "Please," he entreated them. "No one ... I repeat, no one ... can know about this. If Voldemort finds out ..."

"We'll never tell. Never." Ron didn't think he'd ever meant anything more in his life.

"You have our support, Harry. Always." Hermione spoke fiercely.

And as they held each other, Ron knew that no matter what happened, nothing could take away the bond the three of them shared. In this moment, he realized that not even death could take this away from them.

He was terrified at the thought of having to say goodbye to Harry. No one deserved a future without Voldemort more than this boy, whose life had been irrevocably changed by him. All of this talk about destiny, about prophecies, about fate ... if there was one thing Ron knew for sure, it was his destiny to see Harry through this. There must have been a reason Ron stumbled upon him on the Hogwarts Express, and a reason he had decided to go with Harry on that day such a long time ago, when they'd rescued Hermione from that mountain troll.

And, no matter what the future brought for the three of them, no matter what plane of existence Harry was on, no matter who lived and who died in the upcoming battles ... fate had entwined the trio in a bond stronger than death.

And if Ron could take comfort from anything at all in this time of fear and uncertainty, it was that he had been lucky enough to find something that was truly eternal. And he would always be grateful for that.