"Deprimo!"
The cry rang out moments before Harry felt the impact; the shattered wood and stone crashing into him, the floorboards beneath him giving way, and the weightlessness he felt in the few seconds before he fell from the second story down to the first in a pile of debris. His first thought was that his leg must be broken. His second thought was that he had lost his wand in the fall. At both he cursed. Pinned beneath the rubble with only his torso exposed, he reached out as far as his arms could reach, groping around blindly in the dark house for the familiar wood of his wand.
"I can't believe Lord Voldemort fell to a child like you," the thick hiss of a voice crept around the walls towards him.
Harry bit back a retort that it had been ten long years since then and that twenty seven years of age was hardly that of a child, when it registered that he was injured, trapped, wandless and facing the worst remnant of Death Eaters that they'd encountered since Voldemort's defeat.
"So weak..." The voice remarked, a masked figure coming into view in the doorway to Harry's left. A light bulb hung bare on a wire, a modulated swinging back and forth behind the cloaked figure. It made him seem all the more intimidating.
Behind him Harry heard a soft noise, but he chalked it up to the debris settling after its fall from the second floor along with him. The Death Eater wasn't fazed by the noise and drew closer, pointing his wand at Harry.
"I suppose I could wait and kill you off in front of all your fellow Aurors, but I did go to a good deal of trouble to lure them away from here so you'd be alone."
Harry swore inwardly at this, echoes of Moody's "Constant Vigilance!" ringing in his ears. He'd sent Ron and the others after the main group of Death Eaters that had fled the building when they arrived and told them he'd check around for anything, then follow. After all these years of being an Auror, he couldn't believe he'd made such a reckless, fatal mistake.
"Harry Potter, dying all alone. It's... beautiful," the Death Eater's voice brought him back to the present, a rush of thoughts and memories going through his head as he heard the familiar curse.
"Avada Ke-"
"Don't touch him!"
The Death Eater froze, curse dying on his lips, as a figure stepped between him and his prey. Harry, on the other hand, felt a wave of relief wash over him; the familiar voice and blur of red hair was all he needed to feel safe. Ron was there.
"Alone? Harry Potter? You must've not read many books if you think that," Ron quipped.
It was then that Harry noticed something strange. Ron wasn't standing over him with his wand drawn, but rather he stood facing the Death Eater with his arms both outstretched in a protective gesture. A gesture that reminded Harry all too well of his Mother's sacrifice for him.
"Where's his fucking wand?" Harry's mind raced in panic, "What the hell is he thinking facing this guy without a wand? Did he lose it fighting the others?"
Now more afraid for Ron's life than he was his own, Harry tried anew to dislodge himself from the debris.
"And you plan to protect him how?" the Death Eater drawled.
"He's my best mate and he trusts me, that's all that matters."
Harry caught Ron's intonation and looked up at him, knowing immediately that things would work out fine. Ron was there and he'd make things right.
The Death Eater laughed, cold and cruel, as he pointed his wand at Ron.
"Avada Ke-"
"Expelliarmus!" Ron shouted, having slipped his hidden wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the cloaked man.
The Death Eater fell backwards as his wand flew out of his hands and landed on the floor next to Ron. Before he could react, Ron yelled out "Incarcerous!" binding their foe with rope from head to toe.
Harry could hear the footsteps of the other Aurors approaching as Ron knelt down and picked up the Death Eater's wand, stowing it safely inside his cloak before beginning to remove the rubble from around Harry.
By the time Harry was freed from the debris, backup had arrived in full force; even Kingsley had put aside his Ministering duties to come ensure that the leader of this group of Death Eaters was taken care of.
The room was a bustle of movement now as Aurors came and went, but Harry stayed focused on Ron.
"Ferula," Ron muttered, charming a bandage and splint onto Harry's leg. "There now, you can stand if you don't put too much weight on it."
Harry nodded and got to his feet as Ron steadied him. Feeling silly for the impulse, Harry wrapped his arms around Ron in a hug. "Thanks mate, you saved me," he whispered in his ear.
Ron smiled, patting Harry on the back. "Just doing my job as best mate to 'The Boy Who Lived.' Title doesn't quite work out if you're dead, you know."
"I suppose you're right about that," Harry said with a laugh. He bent over awkwardly to pick up his wand from the cleared rubble and put it away in his cloak.
"Ready Harry?"
"We've got paperwork on the incident to fill out."
Ron shook his head and pulled Harry's arm around his shoulders, "Trust me, it can wait. Let's get you home, you have bones to regrow."
And finding that he really couldn't argue that point, Harry leaned his weight against his friend and limped along as they headed home.