Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: I just finished rereading DH, and the idea for this oneshot hit me out of nowhere. SPOILERS AHEAD FOR DH.

"'Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away...'"The high, cold voice said more, but my ears heard none of it. My body felt as though it were frozen. It couldn't be true… not any of it. Harry could not be dead, and he certainly didn't run away. Ron, Ginny and I looked at each other over Fred's body. Their eyes were already swollen, but the look in them was disbelieving, mirroring my own, I knew.

There was whispering around us as Voldemort's words sunk in, and then, almost as one, everyone around us rose, and with one last, lingering look at those they had to leave behind, began to make their way out of the castle. Ron grabbed my hand again, and I squeezed his tightly. I grabbed Ginny with my other hand, and the three of us forced our way through the crowd so we could see what was coming. I had to know why Voldemort had said this even though every fiber of my being knew it couldn't be true.

"Why do you think he said that?" Ron voice was directly in my ear, and I could hear the fear he was trying to hide. I turned to look him full in the face, ready to chastise him for doubting our very best friend, when the sight of his red, swollen eyes deflated me. I shrugged, squeezed his hand again, and then turned and pulled him after me until we reached the front line. Everyone was standing in front of the ruined castle, waiting… for what, though, we had no idea.

And then they emerged from the forest, and my heart plummeted as the Death Eaters pushed Hagrid forward, and I saw that he carried something in his arms… something that looked terrifyingly familiar… I was trying with all my might not to recognize what was clearly right before my eyes when Professor McGonagall made it impossible.

"NO," she wailed, and that's when I broke. I never thought I'd hear that indomitable woman defeated; even when Dumbledore died, she'd cried, but she never sounded as helpless, as grief-stricken as she did now. My eyes filled with tears, but even through them, I could see the lightning shaped scar, the black glasses… everything that proved, beyond a doubt, that my best friend was before me… dead.

"No!" it was Ginny. Her voice was shocked, but the scream erupted from her in such anguish that I was afraid it would tear her in two, and I couldn't help but echo her cry.

"No!" I felt as though the word were ripped from my own throat, and I felt the tears gush down my face, feeling pain like nothing I'd ever felt before. We couldn't have come so far… for this. And then…

"Harry! HARRY!" Ron screamed, and if I thought Ginny's cry would break my heart, now it shattered into a million pieces. I'd never wanted to hear Ron in this kind of pain, but now I looked at him, and as the tears ran down his own face, he looked back at me, and I could see it in his eyes. He'd lost everything. Two brothers in one night. How would he ever survive this?

Before I could even think, I was stunned as the people behind us began screaming as well, deafening cries and insults that only made Voldemort's taunts grow louder. I barely heard a word he said until I suddenly realized that Ron was moving forward… because he was still holding my hand, and he was pulling me with him.

"He beat you!" Ron yelled it, and my heart thought it would burst with pride and love. He hadn't given up on Harry, and he knew, just as strongly as I did, that Voldemort lied and that Harry had not given up on us. There was nothing left but to fight in his name. And even though both of our eyes still streamed with tears, we saw each other clearly and knew that this was what we had to do. For Harry.