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document.write(''); Death or Something Like It

Author: Elizabeth lissag7@juno.com

Rating: Probably more around PG, but I'll PG-13 just to be safe. Some violence and allusions to more adulty things.

Summary: The final battle has taken place, and Harry and co. mourn their losses. Kind of angsty, but will become more hopeful in time.

Ships: H/Hr, D/Hr, H/G..... To be honest, I'm not really sure exactly where this is going to go, ship-wise. Give me your opinion, and I might decide to listen to it. :)

Disclaimer: Sadly, none of these characters are mine. On a side-note, I started a similar fic with Buffy, Angel, and Spike a while back that I never finished. So if you happen to be one of the three people that read that and think that I'm stealing that idea, don't worry. It's mine.

Author's note: I wanted to post these first four sections right away because they all sort of cover the same area, plot-wise. The next installments will be more about moving forward than dwelling on the past. Hope everyone enjoys, and please review.

~Ron~

Among those who had witnessed the final battle, there was a sort of unspoken agreement that the truth of that day would be kept a secret. The wizarding world knew, of course, that Hermione had given her life for the cause. But no one quite knew the whole story.

This was done more out of protection for Harry than respect for Hermione. There was no reason that anyone would think less of her for what she had done; on the contrary, it would prove that much more what an extraordinary person she was. Rather, it was the realization that it would kill Harry to have it be common knowledge that kept them quiet.

More than anyone else, Ron felt a sense of loss from that day. He loved Harry and Hermione, almost as though they were extensions of himself. And in that battle, he'd lost both of them: Hermione to the grave, and Harry to wherever he was right now.

It wasn't that he blamed Harry for his melancholy. Rather, it was that this whole thing was so unexpected. Going into battle, he'd been worried about Ginny and Neville and his parents, but mostly Harry. It seemed like there was this sort of prophetic quality to Harry's existence, and when Voldemort died, Ron feared that he would take the Boy Who Lived right along with him. And though he valued Hermione's friendship just as much as Harry's, he was wise enough to realize that without Harry, there wouldn't be much of a friendship. He was the common link that held them together.

Ron had never really feared that anything would happen to him, and especially not to Hermione. But somehow, he had always imagined that if something did happen to him, Harry and Hermione would go on being friends, and that if anything happened to Hermione, he and Harry would be just as close as they were before.

Nothing had happened according to plan. Harry emerged with no physical wounds that Madame Pomfrey couldn't handle, and Hermione died. But instead of turning to each other in their grief, as Ron had always expected that best friends would do, he and Harry were practically strangers now. Oh, they put up the pretense of being friends, and he knew that he would still die for Harry if the need arose, and vice-versa, but there was an immeasurable distance between them that both seemed unable to cross.

Sighing, he retreated into the pantry momentarily, trying to overcome the sudden burst of melancholy that overcame him. This wasn't the way life was supposed to be. It was the eve of his graduation from Hogwarts, the day he had been anticipating for years. He and Harry and Hermione should all be wearing their best dress robes, laughing and drinking butterbeer and fondly recalling the good old days.

No one could have predicted the way that it all happened. No one.

***Flashback***

Ron reached up his arms to brace himself, but it was too late. The force of the spell hit him full blast, causing him to literally soar head over-heels in the air, crashing into the tree behind him. He hit the trunk with a groan and slid down onto his back, staring up in a daze. Something had snapped on impact; he hoped it wasn't a bone that he used too much.

Wincing from the pain, he rose to his feet, turning to face the Death Eater, who was grinning madly. With all of the strength that he could muster, Ron lifted his wand and shakily pointed it at the other wizard. " Expeli--" he stopped, noticing for the first time that his wand had broken cleanly in half. Hence, the snap.

Irritated, he dropped the wand and advanced on the Death Eater, who merely grinned. " What're you gonna do, boy?" the nameless man sneered. " Looks like you've lost your power."

Wordlessly, Ron reared back and decked the Death Eater straight in the jaw. The man fell in a heap to the ground, letting out a whimper. Ron stood over him triumphantly. "How's that for power?" he inquired, rubbing at his fist as he glanced about the Muggle park they were in and shrugged. " When in Rome..."

" HARRY!"

Recognizing his sister's voice, Ron whirled about, preparing to rush to Ginny's rescue. Instead, his gaze fell upon the forefront of the battle, where Harry and the newly embodied Voldemort were facing off. Voldemort was using some sort of magical hold on Harry and had levitated him into the air. Harry was fighting like mad to free himself, but the hold was cutting off his breath, and it was readily apparent that he was suffocating to death.

Many people were moving at once, trying to make it there in time. Ron, himself, started forward, but his legs felt like lead. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dumbledore forcing his way through the crowd, and Mad Eye Moody from the other side.

Instead, it was Hermione who reached them first. With a scream, she threw herself at Voldemort, interrupting his concentration. Harry dropped to the ground, gasping for breath.

His eyes blazing with rage, Voldemort placed a steely hand on Hermione's arm. "Foolish girl!" he seethed. " You've saved your friend's life momentarily, but at what price?"

Harry was struggling to rise to his feet, his face frantic. " Hermione!"

As Ron watched in wonder, Hermione looked up and met Voldemort's gaze, her eyes glinting. Determinedly, she closed her eyes and began to chant low under her breath.

Voldemort staggered away from her, noticeably fazed. " What magic is this?" he hissed as his hands began to tremble violently.

Hermione ignored him and continued to chant. " Stop it!" the Dark Lord commanded. " Stop it this instant!"

Ron felt a burst of hope inside of him. It was working. Whatever Hermione was doing, it was working.

Hermione's eyes shot open, and it seemed suddenly that she was glowing. "With my love," she murmured, " he will rise. Through my love, he will defeat you-- "

But before he could finish, Voldemort reached forward and grabbed her with both hands, just above the neck. There was a sudden sharp crack, and then Hermione slumped to the ground.

It all happened so quickly that Ron scarcely had time to process what had just taken place. The entire battle seemed to quiet for a moment; blood pounded in his ears, making it impossible to hear.

It wasn't until Harry screamed that Ron regained control of his senses. It was a blood-curdling scream, savage and horrible and terrifying. He shot to his feet and rushed at the Dark Lord, brandishing his wand. He began to shout incantations in languages that were foreign to Ron's ears, languages that perhaps had never been uttered by a human tongue before. Later, Harry would admit that he hadn't realized exactly what it was he was saying.

Voldemort held out his hands in front of his face, as though trying to block himself. Harry continued to shout until his face was red from it. Wildly, Voldemort began to tremble. There was an odd glow that seemed to start from his very core and spread throughout his entire body.

And then, there was a flash of light, and Voldemort was gone. Only, unlike those times before, Ron felt a sudden weight lift from his shoulders, and he knew instinctively that Voldemort was really and truly dead.

There was a moment of silence, and then a unanimous cheer arose from the forces of good. Ron felt himself smiling, too, until he remembered what had happened. Slowly, his gaze turned back to the clearing where Voldemort had stood only moments before.

Harry was dragging himself across the ground, his body scarcely able to support him. He collapsed beside Hermione and then drew himself up alongside her. "Hermione," he said tentatively, nudging her gently, " Hermione, please..."

A hush fell over the crowd. Even the Death Eaters were watching in solemn silence, now. With a moan unlike anything Ron had ever heard, Harry gathered Hermione into his arms and began to sob-or, at least, that was the closest thing to which Ron could equate it. It was the sound of a heart breaking, the sound of a soul dying.

Ignoring everyone else around him, Harry continued to rock Hermione in his arms and wail.