Chapter Five: Fate

Chapter Five: Fate

Ron slowly made his way back toward consciousness, desperate to find Harry and Hermione and continue the fight. He felt a sharp stinging pain across his face and heard the wracking sobs of Hermione next to him. When he opened his dry eyes, he saw the concerned face of his brother Bill, set against a darkening night sky obscured by smoke and clouds.

He sat up abruptly, gasping as pain flashed through his nerves. Bill fell backwards while Hermione threw her arms around him.

"What happened?" demanded Ron, looking around wildly through a tangle of bushy brown hair and finally focusing on Bill. "Where's Harry?"

"It's over, Ron," said Bill, sounding tired and kneeling next to Ron. "It's finally over. You–Know-Who is gone." He didn't say anything about Harry, and Ron noticed immediately.

"Then where is Harry?" he asked again, fear gripping his chest. Hermione was clutching him even harder. He peeled her off his neck, grabbing her shoulders as he gazed into her red-rimmed eyes. "Tell me!"

Hermione shook her head, wide-eyed. "I don't know, Ron! I didn't see anything...I lost consciousness."

Ron immediately regretted acting so rough with her and tilted her chin up toward him. "I'm sorry," he said softly, wiping a streak of dirt from her face and kissing her forehead. "I'm just worried about him. Are you okay?" She nodded wordlessly, and Ron let out a sigh of relief. He put his arms around her and let her lay her head on his shoulder again. He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. When he opened them, Bill was watching him anxiously.

"Are you alright?" his brother asked. "You took some nasty curses there."

"I'm okay," Ron nodded, somewhat amazed that he had survived after all that had happened. He touched the gruesome cut across his face and neck, wincing in pain as he remembered the brutal curse that Bellatrix had cast. The bleeding had stopped, but he was tired, sore, and still deathly worried about Harry. "What about you? Did you get him?" He knew Bill had come to the battle with the sole purpose of defeating Fenrir Greyback.

Bill grinned somewhat wolfishly in spite of his obvious exhaustion. "Yeah, we did...me and Remus fought him together. Greyback won't be biting any more children, ever again."

Ron took his brother's arm, his throat tight with emotion. "Good for you. What about the others? Who's hurt?" He didn't want to ask who had died; he didn't want to know because he didn't think he could bear it.

Bill took a deep breath, his face darkening. "We did surprisingly well, considering the odds. Fred has some nasty cuts, George is limping, and Ginny broke her arm. Mom and Dad are okay, but Charlie was hurt pretty seriously."

Ron stood up slowly, his body stiff. Hermione rose with him, her hand entangled tightly with his own. "What about Harry?" he asked again. "What happened to Harry?"

"I'm sorry," Bill replied quietly. "I don't know either. No one knows. He just ran toward the forest without stopping."

Ron turned to Hermione, whose eyes were very wide. "We have to find him," he told her, determined to locate Harry. "He might still need our help. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, as long as you are," Hermione replied, reaching up to touch his face. Ron took her hand and kissed it gently. He was glad for her concern, but more worried for Harry. Why had he run? Was he being pursued? Was he injured?

"I'll be fine," said Ron, ignoring the dark thoughts that floated into his mind. "Red sparks for help, green for safety?" he asked, referring to the system they had used during their hunt for the Horcruxes. Hermione nodded, but her face betrayed the deep fear Ron felt as well.

"Be careful," she whispered in his ear as she kissed his uninjured cheek. She moved off to the right, while Ron walked to the left. He strode through a scorched landscape that was littered with bodies. He saw several Order members being treated for their injuries; he saw more Death Eaters, silent and unmoving. Bellatrix Black was lying nearby, dead eyes staring into the sky, and Ron couldn't help but smile with grim satisfaction. Not far from her lay Severus Snape. Ron wondered how the spy and former professor had been killed, and which side he finally chose to die for.

Ron marveled at how well the Order had fared in what had seemed a very overwhelming battle. In spite of being outnumbered by both Death Eaters and Dementors, the Order had somehow managed to hold their own in the terrible fight. He saw Fred helping Ginny, her broken arm set in a wooden splint. George stood nearby with Nymphadora Tonks, who appeared relatively unscathed. Hagrid was speaking with Professor McGonagall, gesturing wildly toward the forest. Ron did not see Harry, nor did he see Charlie, and his anxiety increased as he continued walking through the aftermath of the battle.

Ron finally found his father sitting on a large rock; his head was in his hands, and his shoulders were slumped in exhaustion. He was covered in dirt and blood and looked ten years older.

"Dad?" Ron whispered, suddenly fearing that his father was hurt, or that someone else was hurt, even dead. He hurried up to his father and knelt down in front of him. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Where's Charlie?" Bill had said Charlie was injured badly, and Ron suddenly imagined the worst as his mind started racing with visions of his brother, dead.

Arthur Weasley looked up, his face pale and tired. He stood and without a word grasped Ron close, holding him tightly. Ron felt his panic increase as they stood there holding each other, not speaking.

"Dad," he rasped out, finally pulling back. "What happened? Where's Charlie? Bill said he was hurt seriously – is he okay?"

His father stepped back, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes as he nodded. "Yes, he'll be all right. He's with your mother. They went to St. Mungo's."

Ron released the breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Then what's wrong? Dad, it's over, and we're all okay. What's wrong?"

Arthur Weasley looked at his son with tears in his eyes. "I can't believe we all made it. I'm just so relieved no one was..." he broke off and clasped Ron tightly again.

Ron felt a ridiculous grin on his face. "All right, Dad. Don't squeeze too hard or I won't make it after all." His father stepped back, smiling in return. Together they gazed across the bleak battlefield, and Ron felt his worry return.

"Dad, what happened at the end?" he asked quietly. "What happened to Harry? Did you see him?"

"I don't know what happened, Ron," his father replied sadly. "I only know that he did it, that Harry finally vanquished You-Know-Who. He ran that way...I think Remus went after him." He pointed toward the forest. With a nod of understanding, Ron took off, hope replacing the worry that had enveloped him as he realized Harry had left the battlefield alive.

As he entered the forest, Ron slowed down. "Lumos," he muttered, casting a light to lead him through the dark trees. He spotted a clearing ahead and saw a shadowy form on the ground. He made his way through the underbrush, not caring that it ripped at his robes and scratched at his arms. He felt his chest clench in panic as a sudden dread about what he might find destroyed the small hope he had experienced just moments earlier.

Ron burst into the clearing upon a scene he would never forget for its heartbreaking stillness: Remus Lupin, kneeling sadly next to the body of a young man. His back shook with silent sobs, and Ron felt the terrible truth, deep down in his soul, ripping his heart in two: Harry had not survived the final battle. The Boy Who Lived had finally died.

Lupin glanced up with bright eyes as Ron stumbled into the clearing and fell to the ground next to Harry. He felt his face screw up with the terrific effort of holding in the desperate sobs in his chest. All he could do was shake his head, refusing to believe the awful reality. He took Harry's hand and found that it was cold. The shock of it broke his silence; like a dam bursting, he cried out in pain for the loss of his best friend.

How long he wept, he did not know. He did not think that he would ever be free of the dull ache in his chest or the hole in his heart. Lupin finally placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with dead grey eyes, and together they rose. For a long moment they stood in silence, not knowing what to say or what to do.

"What happened?" Ron asked wearily, for what felt like the tenth time that night. No one had answered him yet, and he needed to know how Harry had died.

"I don't know," replied Lupin softly. "He ran after the battle. When I arrived here, I thought I saw . . . well, I thought I saw something I didn't. Harry was lying here, unconscious, and he never woke up." Lupin frowned as he looked down at Harry, and Ron glanced at him questioningly.

"What is it? What aren't you saying?" he demanded, desperate to understand.

Lupin shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't think Harry was that gravely injured at first. Yet when I found him here, he was gone. I don't know what happened." His face crumpled as he looked at Ron with an expression of pain and grief. "I'm so sorry, Ron."

"I can't believe it," Ron murmured, closing his eyes as more tears fell. He was overwhelmed with shock, frustration, and confusion. "I just can't believe he's gone. What do we do now?"

Remus took a deep breath and passed his hand over his eyes before answering. "I think we should regroup at Hogwarts...everyone that doesn't need St. Mungo's. It will be safest. Let's take him there." He bent down to pick up Harry's body, but Ron put his hand on Lupin's shoulder and stopped him.

"No, I'll do it. I should be the one." Ron took a deep breath and, without another word, he picked up Harry's lifeless form. He couldn't bear to look into his friend's pale face and turned his head away with a choked sob. With a final nod to Lupin, he stepped around and Apparated out of the forest.

The castle grounds were dark and deathly quiet as a Ron strode purposefully toward the black lake. He carried a heavy bundle, stumbling in sorrowful haste, as he made his way toward the white marble tomb that stood on the banks.

He gently set down his sad burden: the body of his best friend. He stepped back, and the mask of grief he wore turned to sudden rage.

"He's dead!" Ron shouted at the tomb, his cries echoing out into the dark night. "He's dead and it's your fault! You left us here, to fight alone, and now he's gone. How could you leave us?"

He sank to his knees on the soft earth, inconsolable, and his head fell to his heaving chest. "We fought so hard," he whispered, desperately trying to hold back hot tears. "We followed the clues; we found the Horcruxes. We destroyed them all and went after..." He paused, chasing away the wetness in his eyes with the back of his hand as he prepared to finally say it. "...after Voldemort. He's gone now, vanquished forever. The world is safe."

Ron stood up and took a deep breath. He felt the anger return. "But the only one who really mattered is gone. He's dead! How could you leave him to die? What are we going to do now, without him?" He placed a shaking hand on the tomb as the loss finally overwhelmed him. He wasn't furious after all: he was devastated. "What am I going to do?" he whispered to the silent tomb, but no one answered.

How long he stood there, his heart breaking, he did not know. He was not aware of the pain from his injuries or the cold night air. He only felt the keen sorrow of unbearable loss, an empty hollow feeling deep in his soul. Soon a small hand found his, steady and warm. Ron looked into a face as grief-struck as his own, but also full of compassion and love.

"Come on," said Hermione quietly, her voice gentle and sad as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Let's bring him home."

Ron nodded as the tears began to run down his face again. He couldn't hold them back any longer. He wanted to stay and rage at the stoic marble tomb, but he knew that deep down he wasn't angry. The anguish he felt wasn't the pain of rage; it was grief for a life lost, a friend cruelly taken. He didn't know how he would go on without Harry.

Bending down, Ron smoothed his friend's dark hair one last time. He picked up the body, surprised at how light his burden now felt. Slowly he made his way back up to the castle with Hermione at his side, crying silently.

A dozen witches and wizards met them at the entrance to the castle, their wands lighting the way. Fred and George were there, eyes bright in the dim light, and Bill stood with his arm around Ginny, who looked pale and shocked. Remus Lupin waited silently next to Professor McGonagall as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Hagrid wailed, and Arthur Weasley patted him sadly on the arm. Others lined the way as well, survivors of the long hard battle, come to pay their final respects. They all showed signs of the harsh fight and watched with weary eyes as Ron and Hermione walked slowly between them bearing the body of the boy who had saved them all.

The battle was over, the war was won; but the victory was bittersweet.

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A/N:Many thanks to myownmuggle for her beta work on this sad chapter. Thanks also to ProfPosky for some last minute support as well. This story will conclude in Chapter Six: Farewell.