If Ron died

Chapter 6

The bang was like a cannon-blast and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air towards the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of a Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backwards, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upwards. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snake-like face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air.

Harry fell to his knees. He was numb; numb to feeling, numb to the noise around him, because how could people celebrate, how could people laugh and run and smile, when Ron was gone, when Ron was dead . . .

Harry stood up very quickly, shoving his way through the mass of bodies surrounding him. of course, why hadn't he thought of it before? It was so simple, so brilliant . . .

Ginny caught his eye and frowned, narrowing her eyes. Harry gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head; he couldn't let himself be seen, or else someone would surely try and stop him.

As soon as he was out of sight, Harry hurtled towards the forbidden forest. Perhaps it wasn't too late...

It's kinda short, sorry about that, but I'm sad today so . . . yeah ;-;

Also, if you happen to be reading this and actually like my writing, please please comment what other fandoms/ships you want me to do. see ya ;w;