A/N: Well, here I am with more! This is the fic in answer to that poll I posted. But don't worry, the is so much more where this came from. Underage Gryffindors in the editing process, A Walk In The Chamber is as well, so as soon as I am next able to get on a computer. So be on the look out for those, as well as anything eles, I might happen to jot out. So, R, R, and enjoy! As always!

Disclaimer for entire fic: I OWN NOTHING.

The Final Battle: Ron's POV

"Okay, let's let him down nice and easy now."

As Ron Weasley spoke, he and Dean Thomas began to lower the still, lifeless body of Dennis Creevy down next to that of his older brother.

As Dean walked away to find another body, Ron heaved a sigh and ran a weary hand through his hair. He looked down the line to see George still kneeling beside Fred's body, not even crying any more, just hollow. Hollow and empty. He was like a human abyss, a void to all emotion without his twin. Ron still couldn't believe it. He found it hard to truly believe that Fred was dead. Although he had known that people would have to die, he really had never considered Fred's death as a possibility. He even now half expected Fred to jump up and laugh at them all for moping. If he hadn't seen it happen, well, he probably wouldn't have believed it at all.

As he absentmindedly wandered off to look for more bodies, Ron saw Ginny in the distance trying to comfort a younger girl. At least he knew that the rest of his family was safe. His mother, Ginny, and Fleur were all helping with the wounded, while Bill, Charlie, and Percy were helping to round up the stray Death Eaters for Azkaban. His father was helping Kingsley come up with a plan, and Hermione was helping McGonagall with some of the urgent magical repairs. So, all of the people whom Ron loved were present and accounted for.

All except one. Ron hadn't seen Harry since he and Hermione had left him standing at the entrance to the great hall. He had been to overcome with grief at that point to notice, but as the shock had ebbed away a bit, he had noticed Harry absence. Upon noticing this, he had simply assumed he was by Remus's body. Remus has been like a father to him, and it was sad really that Harry had lost yet another father figure. And Remus had been Harry last real connection to his parents, the last of the marauders. And now he was gone too, leaving his son fatherless.

It had only been when they had all split up to complete their respective tasks that Ron had realized that Harry was no were to be found. Ron sincerely hoped that Harry had not gone to meet Voldemort. Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that that was probably the truth. He had known Harry for seven years now, and Harry had never been content to let other's put themselves in danger for him. He had always felt that he had to do things for themselves. He had never understood that Ron and Hermione had and always would be them for him. No matter what. Deep down, Ron knew that Harry had gone to meet Voldemort, he just had to hope that he would come out of it alive.

Well he had to didn't he? Wasn't that the way the stories went? Good conquered evil, and the hero went on to live happily ever after. Merlin knows that Harry would deserve it, as Voldemort had given him precious little time to be happy for the past sixteen years. He and Ginny would finally have a chance to become a proper couple, which would make Ginny very happy.

They would then grow up, and they would get married. Then he and Harry would truly become brothers, and his mother would finally be able to claim Harry as her own son. He and Harry would become aurors, and they would make a great team, rounding up more dark wizards than ever before. They would each have families, married to the loves of their lives, and would be best mates forever. That would be how a proper fairy tale would end.

But life wasn't a fairy tale. Harry's entire life, from that fateful night almost seventeen years ago now, had proved this. He had survived so much over the years, he had done things that most people would have been scared to death even thinking of. He had fought Voldemort at the end of their first year, slain a basilisk at the end of their second, fought off over a hundred dementors at the end of their third, made it through the tri-wizard tournament, watched Cedric die, and dueled Voldemort at the end of their fourth.

That year man him strong, as he became a harder man then Ron could have ever fathomed being at that point. Then all throughout their fifth year he had faced ridicule and slander for telling the truth. That year he had also led them in battle at the ministry, and watched Sirius die. That had torn him to pieces, and he had become more distant than ever. Little did we know that he had just learned of the prophecy. The one that stated, "Neither can live while the other survives."

When Harry had told Ron and Hermione about it, Ron was terrified. Terrified, because he was powerless. All I could do was sit and listen to his best mate's fate, and there was nothing he could do about it. In the end, it would have to be either him or Voldemort, and Ron was powerless in the choosing.

Harry just has to be alright, he just has to survive this. Ron thought to himself. His reverie was halted abruptly by a familiar voice.

"Ron." Ron looked up to see the round, now scarred face of Neville Longbottom.

"Neville."

Neville gazed down at the floor awkwardly for a moment before asking the question he had clearly come to ask, "Just out of curiosity, what is the plan?"

"The plan?" Ron repeated, dumbstruck.