He never saw the jet of green light until it hit him. He was deflecting another hex, before scooting out of the way of a Blasting Curse and was hit square in the chest by the Killing Curse. It was ironic, really, that Harry Potter could elude Lord Voldemort for seventeen years but couldn't avoid a stray curse. The curse, casted by Dolohov, was meant for Professor Flitwick. Instead, the Boy-Who-Lived laid, dead, on the grass. Chaos ensued.

The fighting stopped for a few moments, Dolohov looked stunned by his own luck. But, suddenly, there was a loud, enraged scream, and a body with fiery red hair was charging at Dolohov, until his wand was protruding at his neck. "You killed him!" Ron screamed, "You filthy man, my best friend! You killed him! I'll kill you!" Ron certainly looked ready to tear someone apart, his face was contorted with rage and the purple color that descended on his features rivaled Vernon Dursley's anyday. Time seemed to go by at a snails pace, people were crying, screaming--even the Death Eaters had no idea what to do. Their orders were simple, if the boy wasn't there by midnight, attack, and bring him here--willing or not. Finally there was a shouting of the Killing Curse, flash of green light, and Dolohov's body landed on the grass with a soft thump.

The fighting started again with a vengeance, Ron seemed to want to destroy every Death Eater in sight. And Mrs. Weasley was currently battling Bellatrix LeStrange, fighting for her makeshift son, Harry, and her real son, Fred, who lie dead on the grass. Lee Jordan and George were throwing curses at Yaxley, each one nastier then it's processor, until he fell dead. Oliver Wood was bringing some of the spirit he used to play Quidditch onto the battlefield. A few of Voldemort's lesser skilled fighters were piled into a large mound of mismatched limbs next to him.

After there were only a few Death Eater's left, Voldemort's followers retreated, running straight to the woods to their Master. Bellatrix tried to bring Harry's body with her, but Ron tiredly shot another Killing Curse at her. And she too joined the fallen. After that, the Death Eaters seemed to move all the more quickly. Until all that was left was a bloodshed on the school grounds. Hermione rushed over to Harry, dropping to her knees, checked his pulse, and started sobbing. Ron came up behind her, put a reassuring hand on her back, and he to started to sob for their lost best friend. Then, almost mechanically, Ron walked over to where his dead bother was. George was desperately trying to revive him, but it was no use. "You lied!" he screamed. "You said were supposed to do everything together!"

Hermione passes by where Fred lay, and continued over to where she could see a spot of pink hair and sandy blonde, streaked with gray. She stopped just before Professor Lupin, and turned her head the other way. They looked peaceful, even in death, too peaceful, like they'd just decided to take a nap. She would think that, if she didn't see blood splattered on Lupin's shabby cloak.

One by one, the survivors looked at the fallen, prayed for them, and moved onto the next bodies, scattered on the grass. The only sounds were George's grief stricken screaming, begging for his brother to come back.

. . .

What he didn't know was that Fred was fighting, fighting with all of his might to get back to his brother. He was screaming at him too, as he was peeled away from his own body, and started floating, high above the castle, until all he could see was little specks of white and mourner's trailing through. He went higher still, until he couldn't see the castle anymore, for clouds were blocking his view. He floated higher, until he feared there would be no oxygen if he went any higher, before he had time to seriously consider this, he started disappearing. First his legs, then his arms, his torso, chest, neck, and head. He felt a familiar hooking sensation in his navel, and was pulled into a different place.

A room started materializing in front of him, and so did he, his limbs growing back in the same order they disappeared. He let out a sigh of relief. It was all a dream, he told himself, Look you probably just fell asleep during old McGonagall's class. And this theory could've been correct, the room did look like a Hogwarts classroom. But, when he saw a familiar jet black head of hair, he fell back to Earth, Harry had never been in any of his classes before. In fact, neither had Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Yaxley, or Dolohov. With a sinking feeling, Fred sat next to Harry, who had his head in his hands, and seemed to be mumbling something. Fred tapped him on the back, Harry looked up, his eye were red and puffy, he could see a open wound on his neck. Seeing Fred didn't make things any better. It seemed to make things worse. The mumbling got louder, "Oh, Lupin, Tonks, Colin, Fred. I'm so sorry!"

Lupin got up from his seat, and patted Harry from the back. "Nobody blames you Harry." Lupin said gently, it didn't help. It seemed to make things worse.

Harry slammed his fists on the table, and looked at all of them angrily. "Well, you should. It's my fault! All my fault! I'm Lord Voldemort's eight Horocrux! I'm the reason you're all dead!"

"Well, of course you are." Bellatrix spat. "You could've came and sacrificed your life to the Dark Lord, and all your little friends could've been spared. Lupin cast a quick silencing charm at the Death Eater lot, though Bellatrix still talked on as if nothing had happened.

This is when Fred started paying attention, he was used to Harry's masochistic tendencies to blame himself for everything. But...dead? His hand shot up in the air. "Um, excuse me. Dead?"

Lupin was immediately uncomfortable, Harry looked even guiltier, and Tonks, who was still pretending to not be paying attention, ears pricked. And Lupin, who seemed immediately interested in his shoes, mumbled "The woman should be back in a moment, she just went to get a projector."

"But--" Fred started.

"It'll be better if you hear it from her." Lupin interjected with a note of finality in his voice, before shuffling over to where Tonks sat. Fred looked over at Harry, intent on asking him about his mortality, but saw that he had put his head in his hands again, and decided that he could wait a few minutes. He started twiddling his thumbs and then he hear a loud sound of machinery banging against each other and muttered cursing. Then, the door opened and in came a woman. The first thing Fred noticed about her was she had long raven colored hair, down to her waist. The second thing he noticed was that she had a large, bloody hole in the side of her head, that blasted strait through her skull, so that you could see the wall behind her. It looked like she had a wand pointed at her head, and a Reducto Curse preformed.

"Bloody hell," Fred muttered, bile rising in his throat.

She hooked up the projector and pulled down a screen, where a oddly cheerful message displayed the disheartening truth:

Welcome to the end of your life. Please pay attention.

"Welcome," the woman said, "to the afterlife. I'm going to tell you all about the rules and regulations that we have in this world." She looked rather bitter when she said this, she certainly didn't die of a botched spell. Nor, did she die at her own accord.

"So were really…dead?" Fred trailed uncertainly, his eyes wary.

"Well spotted." she joked dryly. "Dead as a doornail. You cannot go back to the 'real' world permanently, there is no incantation, ritual, spell, hex, or curse that can reincarnate you. You can, however, go back temporarily. Under the strict time limit of twenty four hours. No more, no less. But, we'll talk more about that later. Any questions?"

"B-but, I'm still breathing. See? In. Out. In. Out."

"I know your still breathing. Just becuase you dead back there." She pointed to the wall, though Fred was pretty sure she wasn't refering to a few planks of wood and plaster. "Dosen't mean you are here. Simple. Understand?"

Fred nooded.

"Good." she said cheerfully, "Now, there are rules here. Only one, really. You cannot kill people. Can not. There is no afterlife after this, none at all. This is it. If you kill someone in this world, you will be condemned to the same fate. There is no middle ground, there is no 'It was an accident!'. There is no Azkaban. There is life and death. And that's it." She looked at everybody sternly. "You may have made some mistakes in your past life; killed some people. I don't care. The people don't care. Think of this as your second chance."

Harry opened his mouth angrily, seemingly intent on pointing out every murder each of them had committed. Surely, she would make an exception for these people. She held up her hand. "I don't care."

"But--"

"I don't care."

"They--"

"I. Don't. Care." she enunciated each word, Harry glared at her. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Magical Abilites. Okay, You still have magical abilities in this world, though, your wands, along with anyother personal objects will be left behind. There is a wand maker here who would be happy to attend to you, after a small, resonable fee.

"Finally, about returning to the world you lived in before. There is a portal, in the middle of the city. It connects our world and theirs, you can return for twenty four hours. You only get one chance, you retain a ghost like form, translucent and cold to the touch. You can be blown away by wind and other elements. You can't eat food, you don't have the normal human needs. Though, in this world you are completely human, except for one difference: your immortal, you don't age, you don't ever change appearance, your stuck with any wound you've sustained before you death. And, that's it. I guess. You've been provided with automatic room and board and some money to get you started. The rest is up to you. Good luck." She smiled, before leaving the room.

. . .

Harry desperately tried to decipher the map clutched in his hand, he was in Mort Alley and was still trying to locate his room and board. He decided that if he hadn't been staring at the people walking down the street and instead been paying attention to where he was going, he wouldn't be stuck in this predicament. It wasn't all his fault, you couldn't do anything but stare. Only a few people were in pristine condition, perhaps killed by Avada Kedavra or died of natural causes. But, most of the people he saw had various wounds inflicted upon them before death, one man had a hole blasted straight through his stomach that made bile rise in Harry's throat. He never knew how violent witches and wizards could be, once they had a little bit of leverage and over other people. They harnassed it to the best of there abilities, and used it to do the ugliest of things.

Harry sighed, he still didn't think Voldemort's deceased followers would ever change. Sure some had been reformed, if they had the will. But, he was pretty sure that none of the people he saw today had the will to change. In fact, he knew Bellatrix didn't. The poor bloke who handed him the map of the town got lifted up by his kneck due to a enraged Bellatrix who screamed at him: "Take me back! Take me back to the Dark Lord!" She had to be dragged off by security, but since murder was the only punishable crime here he was pretty sure she was still lurking in the shadows.

This was why we had Azkaban back home, Harry thought moodily, kicking a stray stone. He was tired and hungry and just went for the ride of his life. First he died, then he was forced to navagate through a strange new world all on his own. He saw a man up ahead on a bench, wearing canary yellow robes, he face was hidden by a leatherbound book. He made a beeline for his direction, "Um, excuse me sir, do you know where...um...Greengrass Room and Board is?"

The man looked up, and Harry saw something that almost made his heart stop beating.

"Cedric?"

EDIT: 09-19-09. Changed a few minor details (see: 1st and 2nd paragraphs.) and pushed a few peroids back and fiddled with some commas. Nothing major except changing magic being concealed in magical objects to good ol' fashioned wands.