Memories and Dreams

Chapter One- Fateful Night

"Hermione! No- no... come on, get up.- Mione!" Ron whimpered picking up an unconscious Hermione. Blood trickled down the side of her face from a deep gash under her hairline. Ron's shoulder had been dislocated from being sent flying backwards into the stone wall, yet he found the strength to carry her. "Dad!" he yelled out into the night. "Dad! Where are you?"

"Ron," came a feeble voice from several feet away.

"Dad, you okay?"

"I'll live- Arg!!" Ron could hear his father fall back down into the cold, wet grass. Even from feet away he could hear him taking in sharp breaths. "Are you all right, son?"

"Fine. But Hermione's unconscious. We have to find Harry and get out of

here."

He heard a groan come from his father, but knew that he agreed. As they made their way towards each other, they heard hurried footsteps in the nearby woods headed towards them. Even though it was pitch black, except for a sliver of moonlight, they could see a gleaming rim of a pair of glasses. It was Harry.

"Get yourselves out of here," he gasped, winded from running.

"Where is he?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Gone before I could get to him." Harry could sense their shivers as he said that. "Where's Hermione?"

"I've got her- Harry, we can't leave without you. We can't until he's-"

"I'm giving you a chance to escape. Take Hermione- This is between me and Voldemort. Hurry up, both of you, before he-"

Harry was interrupted by a black hooded figure that had appeared before him. The fiery blood-red eyes burning a hole through his own. Harry shot back a look of pure venomous hatred that he had never felt before. But before anyone could do anything, powerful invisible binds made Harry lose his balance and fall to the ground.

"Your time has come to an end here," hissed the high, cold voice from underneath the hood. It was enough to send shivers down a giant's spine. "No more tricks, no one here to protect you," he said in a sort of mockery. "Your precious Dumbledore is dead along with the rest of your Phoenix Order. Now to finish off the remaining hope of all Mudbloods and muggle lovers... Pity," he said quietly.

Harry lay there, rage boiling in his eyes at those words. 'Dumbledore couldn't be dead. He just couldn't,' he thought.

"Murdering bastard!" screamed Ron, Hermione still in his arms. Voldemort turned and began to raise his wand.

"Avad-"

"Ron! Go!!" gasped Mr. Weasley. And with that, Ron Disapparated.

"That was very noble of you to protect your son like that," Voldemort said coolly.

He really didn't care that Ron had escaped. He had Harry and was satisfied with that. But the more victims the better. Suddenly Mr. Weasley pulled out his wand.

"Crucio!"

"Reflectia Incantem," he drawled almost lazily. A harsh scream pierced the night. "That was incredibly foolish of you, Arthur." Mr. Weasley couldn't stop his painful screams of bloody murder.

"Stop it!" Harry growled, shaking with rage.

Voldemort's bloody eyes flickered with what Harry could only assume as a vindictive smile. He heard the swish of a wand and almost immediately Mr. Weasley stopped screaming. His breath was now coming in sharp gasps. Harry squirmed and struggled against his invisible binds to no avail.

"I'm not a cruel man," he said in an amused tone.

"You're no man. You're a monster," Harry retorted through gritted teeth. This made him give a cruel and chilling chuckle.

"Very well, I'm a monster." He flicked his wand and Mr. Weasley started to shriek in agony again.

Voldemort turned back to watch Mr. Weasley suffer. In that instance, Harry noticed something silver in Voldemort's robes glisten in the faint moonlight. A dagger. He could barely touch his own wand with his finger under his body. Voldemort must have assumed that he'd lost it in their battle earlier that night.

"The consequences of being a Mudblood lover, Harry," he said, amusing himself again, never taking his eyes off Mr. Weasley. This gave Harry time to try and reach for his wand.*continued*"I think I should just end your misery now- Give Harry here a little demonstration of what I have in store for him."

In those very seconds, Harry strained to reach his wand. Two fingers- Now finally having a full grasp. He undid his binds quickly as Voldemort raised his wand and pointed at Mr. Weasley. "Accio!" Harry yelled. Stunned, Voldemort turned to face him. The dagger shot out of his robes and into Harry's awaiting hand.

Harry forgot he was a powerful wizard himself, forgot that he could easily kill him with two simple words. All he knew at that moment was that Voldemort must die. He must die for all the pain he's caused. He must die for all the pain he caused him- For killing his parents and hurting the woman he loves.

Harry threw himself at Voldemort, both of them losing their wands as they hit the ground. Mr. Weasley had stopped screaming when Voldemort lost his concentration while Harry took the dagger. He lay there on his side, panting, watching the two black figures wrestle and holler in pain on the ground.

"Harry!" was all he could manage to say. His throat was raw from all his screaming and his voice was worn out. He found his wand and took aim- But then realized that even if he was strong enough, he might hit and kill Harry instead. He had no choice but to remain there, watching as fate decided on who will be the victor in the end.

As feeble, weakened, thin and bony as Voldemort was, he had a cold iron grip and gorilla-like strength that practically overwhelmed Harry. Fury coursed through his veins, increasing his adrenaline to match the Dark Lord's. The dagger remained virtually still between them as they shook with anger, forcing the blade to touch the other. When one hollered in pain, the other ceased the opportunity and attempted to penetrate their skin. Both came close, but not close enough. Magic was useless to them at that point. All they wanted was to see their enemy die. This as revenge in all its glory.

And it happened in a flash.

A sudden thunderstorm appeared. With every lightning flash, their eyes connected in stare of pure hatred. Their bodies were inches away from each other, still battling strong to win control of the dagger. Suddenly they both jumped in shock. It was in his stomach- The other's weight forcing it deeper inside. Their eyes remained wide, still in the same state of shock as to what had just happened.

He won. After all these years... revenge was his. As a final blow, he twisted the dagger in his stomach- sending eerie screams into the stormy night- and turned it up, slashing away at more of his insides. And they fell back to the ground.

One died. One collapsed of exhaustion.

It's over.

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Chapter 2- Reasons and Fears

With a small 'pop!', Ron was in the emergency wing of St. Mungo's. As if they were awaiting his arrival, two mediwizards whisked Hermione out of his arms and into an emergency room. A third mediwizard escorted him to small, private examining room. Nothing was said, no questions asked (common knowledge led him to believe it was the Dark Lord's work). He simply gave Ron a quick check- up, healed his shoulder and left, softly clicking the door behind him.

Ron sat in unemotional silence; Rage, anger, hatred, shock, stress, sorrow, weariness and worry all fighting for control of his body and mind. The clash of them all led him to only show a blank stare to the world. Bill, Charlie and George were dead. Hermione, Fred and Ginny were severely wounded. His mother was safely at home- thank Merlin. But what about the rest of the Phoenix Order? Dumbledore. He's dead. 'He's dead,' was all Ron could say in his mind. 'Dumbledore is dead. Voldemort murdered Albus Dumbledore in cold blood.' At this point rage was winning the battle in his body.

A wave of thoughts came over him. 'Percy. Remus. Dean. Lee. Justin. Cho.- All his friends and colleagues. What became of them?' His brow furrowed at the answers his mind gave him. These were more like memories that would forever be in his nightmares.

'The Phoenix Order drove the battle from High Street in Hogsmeade to the mountains above it,' said his mind. 'Thank Merlin, too. That saved countless innocent lives, it did.' Ron nodded to himself. 'It was a heated war; Death Eaters outnumbered five to one. Yet somehow they managed to strike down half the Order.'

A small click came from the door behind him but Ron gave no notice. He sat there submerged in his thoughts of earlier in the day. 'All I remember is cursing a large amount of Death Eaters. How many? There were too many to tell... Amazing how many had turned to follow Voldemort.' Years ago he feared to speak that retched name, fearing his body would be poisoned because of it. Now it was only a name that left a disgusting taste in his mouth, the fear was gone. 'Charlie was struck down in front of me,' the voice in his head said, almost quivering. 'He was hit with a curse meant for me... Dove in front of me, screaming, "Ron! No!"... I looked into his eyes- Lifeless and blank... He fell to the ground. Dead.' A tear silently rolled down, leaving the trail on his cheek cold. 'That sent me over the edge... Killed every Death Eater within my range. Even the one that killed Charlie- Pettigrew. The bastard deserved to die.' His hands were now shaking with unspeakable anger. 'He's caused my family and friends so much pain. Deceived me for years and framed Sirius-'

"Ron?" asked a quiet, tired voice beside him. He remained still. All he could think of was Pettigrew's screams as he finished him off. "Ron," echoed the voice again in his head. It was oddly familiar. Coming out of his reverie, he turned to face the man beside him.

"Percy," he breathed, wrapping his arms around his brother.

They clung to each other, as if their lives depended on that hug, not wanting to lose the other again. Ron shut his eyes, losing the battle to stop any tears from emerging. "Thank goodness," Percy repeated over and over again, muffled by Ron's shoulder. Reluctantly they pulled away. Still grasping each other by the arms they looked into their faces. Percy's reflected his own: Damp with tears, eyes red and full of worry, yet relief at the same time. No words were exchanged for several moments. As hard as Ron tried to form any, his throat contracted and his mouth dried up. There was nothing he could say that Percy didn't already know. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him- But Percy knew that as well. "Ron..." he spoke, barely above a whisper. His throat was acting in the same way. "Are you alright?" He nodded, not wanting to risk breaking down in his arms. "Dad?" Ron's eyes flickered at the thought of where his father currently was.

"With Harry-" he choked. Percy held his breath. "Still in..." Nothing more needed to be said. They both already knew. He suddenly had to know. "Ginny?"

"Sleeping. She'll be fine in a couple of months... Mom's there," Percy sighed. Before Ron could ask, he continued. "Fred's still critical, but his chances improved slightly..." Little by little the weight slowly lifted off Ron. "Seamus came minutes before you. Brought Lee Jordan and Susan Bones with him- They're doing fine." Percy looked into his eyes and knew what question of the many he wanted answered. "I don't know about Hermione. Last I heard from Severus, she was waking up." It was enough to allow Ron a breath of hope again.

This time around Percy tried to seek answers. "Bill and Charlie?" Ron didn't want to answer that. He remained quiet and bowed his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fanged earring. Bill's earring. Immediately Percy tried to fight back sobs.

"Ch- Charlie- saved me," Ron stammered, tears re- emerging. "Dove in front of me-" He looked into his brothers eyes, tears freely flowing. "George- by Lucius Malfoy. Couldn't reach him in time..." His voice drifted off somewhere as he felt the lump in his throat painfully grow to the size of a melon. 'I can't keep doing this,' he growled to himself in his mind. 'Enough is enough, Ronald!'

Ron faced Percy again. During all this time, he'd failed to notice how worn and fatigued he'd become over the last years. Even though he wasn't Minister of Magic yet, he hadn't failed to show the signs of age. Barely twenty five and he had enough experience to last him three life times. Several bags under his eyes emerged with shades from lack of sleep. His once rosy cheeks had lost most of their color. He'd gotten thinner, the skin on his hands slightly stretched and wrinkled. Yet those eyes of him were full of strength and determination. But at the moment they were clouded over with unmistakable sorrow. Percy realized Ron's eyes were glazed over in thought. "Let's go see Ginny," he said putting an arm around his shoulder. Startled at the sudden touch, he let his head drop and nodded. With some help, Ron got to his feet and allowed Percy to steer him out.

"Ron! Oh my Ron!" Molly Weasley nearly shrieked bowling over her son in alleviation. "Ron, Ron, Ron... my beautiful boy," she cried holding him. Ron held her tight, forcing himself not to have a break down in front of his mother. She helped him sit in a chair beside Ginny while she sat on the bed. Still holding his mother's hand in one of his own, he took Ginny's and sadly watched her sleep. Mrs. Weasley squeezed his hand in support. He returned the affection. "Percy, dear, have you heard from your father or Harry?" He glanced at his brother in the chair, then looked back to his mother, shaking his head. She bowed her head and sighed with a shudder.

"They'll be okay," Ron finally said, more to himself than to his family. "They'll be okay... Give them more time."

Hours slowly trickled by and the storm outside never let up. Percy and Ron told their mother all they knew, who died and who was still missing. Reluctantly, after having herself a good long cry on both her sons' shoulders, she drifted into an uneasy sleep. Percy never left Ginny's side. Meanwhile, Ron sat by the large window, overlooking the ocean far below the hill they were on. It was gray and murky, rain and lightning only visible in the dark. As a fresh roll of thunder came about, he couldn't help but notice how the weather was reflecting his every emotion at that moment. 'Dad... Harry... Where are you two?' he asked the sky. 'Where are you?' He turned to look at the remainder of his family. Percy asleep next to Ginny- His mother on the cot... clutching Bill's earring to her heart. A new wave of tears overtook him at her sight.

The door clicked open and a man quietly stepped in. His sweeping black robes wrapped themselves around him as he took in the view of the room. He turned to see Ron sitting by the window and made his way over, not wanting to disturb the others. "Ron," he whispered hoarsely.

"Severus," he nodded. They had been on first name terms for several months, forgetting their petty hatred in the battle.

"Are you well?" Ron nodded. Snape's eyes quickly dodged his as he said, "And Harry?"

"Out there," he replied turning his gaze back tot he window. "Along with my father." Snape kept his gaze diverted. "Hermione?"

"Asleep."

"I want to see her," Ron said, sounded more forceful than he meant to. Snape eyed him for a moment. With a swift nod and swish of his robes, he was making his way back to the door. Ron followed closely.

Snape led Ron down several corridors lowly lit. Every now and then a mediwizard or witch would scurry pass them and into another room. He then stopped abruptly before a door and slowly opened it for Ron. It was dark inside, except for a lamp lit on the bedside table. Hermione lay fast asleep. "I trust you will not wake her." Ron nodded. "If you need anything, ask for it. I will be in Fudge's room two doors away with Minerva." Fudge and McGonagall. He hadn't even given them a thought.

"How are they?" Snape gave a disapproving sigh.

"Fudge is fine. Old blundering fool..." He didn't bother to finish what he thought of him. "But Minerva is fine. Just worried and distressed. The news of Dumbledore-" He couldn't bare to finish that statement either. Ron knew Dumbledore's death was causing him as much pain as anyone else, especially McGonagall. With another swift nod Snape retreated to Fudge's room, pinching the bridge of his nose to fight back the tears.

Ron quietly closed the door behind him and made his way to a chair beside Hermione's bed. He drew it closer and sat down, immediately taking her hand in his. It was so cold... As if she were dead. 'But she's not,' he told himself. 'She's okay, right here, asleep. Safe. One of my best friends is still alive- No! No, no, no, no, no!' he scorned himself. 'No! Harry is still alive! He has to be alive. And so is my father- They're both alive.'

His scorning was interrupted by Hermione. She was stirring. He watched as she began to groan, shutting her eyes even tighter, grasping Ron's hand as if holding on to her life. Sweat began to appear on her forehead and slightly bruised face. All he could do was squeeze back while watching her squirm and continue moaning. Her eyes suddenly flew open, quickly looking around the room, her breath quick. "Hermione," he said cautiously, not wanting to startle her. She slowly turned to look at him and breathed an obvious sigh of relief.

"Ron," she whispered smiling. He couldn't help but return it. It was the first time in days he smiled. She slowly made the effort to sit up.

"Hey, hey. Don't do that. Lie back down," he said gently pushing back down.

"Ron, I'm fine. Just a bit dizzy is all." When it came to Hermione, stubbornness was a virtue. He watched as she made herself comfortable. He realized one of her wrists were bandaged up. She noticed his gaze. "It's nothing, really" she comforted. In seconds she realized why she was sitting in that bed in the first place. "Ron, where's Harry?" He stayed silent. He didn't want to bring her down, but he couldn't just sit there and worry her more.

"Hermione," he began taking her hand in both of his. Concern took over her. "Harry- He... He's still."

"No," she snapped. Her eyes wavered as she desperately looked around the room, wishing in vain that Harry was hiding in one of the dark corners. "H- he can't still be... He hasn't returned?" Ron looked away and shook his head. "He has to be alive. I know he's alive." She turned to Ron, her eyes glazed with tears. "He has to be alive, Ron..."

"Shh... Oh, 'Mione... Shh..." Ron sat on her bed and took her in his arms. Surprisingly, she completely broke down and cried in his arms. He rocked her gently in his arms, kissing the top of her head and whispering soothing words in her ear. Slowly her cries turned into soft sobs and sighs. "He'll be back, Hermione. I promise you he'll be back." Ron looked out the window across from him. 'You hear that, Harry? Come back. If not for my sake, then for Hermione's.' He looked back down at Hermione. She was asleep again. She was already weak and crying only made her even more tired. Ron gently laid her back down. With a kiss on the forehead he took his position back in his seat. He reluctantly drifted off into an uneasy sleep, still holding on to Hermione's hand.