Chapter 1

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"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the silencing charm was broken. Screams and cries and crashes from everyone in the once-silent crowd seemed to shake the ground, but it didn't last for long.

"SILENCE" Voldemort screamed, brandishing his wand at the crowd. "Silence."

"Now," Harry felt beads of sweat on his forehead as Voldemort's high, cold voice shook with fury and what sounded like excitement. "You."

Harry opened his eyes ever so slightly to reveal Voldemort, his wand pointed directly at Ron. "Come," he breathed, his voice echoing across the dark Hogwarts grounds.

Ron didn't move. Harry wasn't even sure he was breathing.

"I said COME."

A still-cloaked figure ran forwards from Voldemort's ranks and dragged Ron over, mere feet from where Harry lay in Hagrid's arms, feigning death.

"So," hissed Voldemort, his fingers toying idly with his wand. "The great Harry Potter's comrade-in-arms. We could use you, you know. Pure-bloods are of highest esteem here."

Voldemort leaned closer, his long, spider-like fingers at Ron's jaw.

"I'll join you once hell freezes over," said Ron boldly, hands curling into fists.

Voldemort's face twisted into something very ugly indeed. "So you think you're brave, boy? You know nothing. You see nothing. And although it pains me to spill all of this magical blood, you are more of use to me dead than alive." He flicked the elder wand, and Ron crumpled to the ground, right at Voldemort's feet, a dark liquid staining the ground around him.

"You see this," Voldemort's slitted nostrils flared. "This is what happens when you defy me, and this is what will happen to all of you, if you don't obey."

Harry's heart stopped, and his thoughts refused to process what Voldemort was implying. Because Ron wouldn't, couldn't be gone . . . 

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