Harry Potter: After the War

        It was dark in the halls as Harry walked up the vast staircases, his invisibility cloak fluttering over his shoulder. His heavy footsteps thudded against the empty corridors. Harry was exhausted and didn't know what to do. A feeling of relief came over him. He was thankful for his friends, Ron and Hermione, standing on either side of him. Ron looked completely shaken, and Hermione was flushed and tears lined her cheeks.

Rubble lined the hallways and the distant sound of mourning and celebration in the Great Hall lingered.

"Look," He started tiredly, trying to swallow a lump in his throat, "Ron, I am so sor-"

"No need, mate," Ron said roughly, a twisted smile on his face and tears in his eyes. Harry shook his head and started again, but Hermione took one look at Harry and cut in, "Harry, don't beat yourself up."

There was a silence and Harry started to argued, "I'm not-"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed. For a moment, it seemed like the Hermione she always was, but her eyes were filled with tears, and she looked so vulnerable.

Ron and Harry looked at each other helplessly. "Well," said Ron in a constricted voice, "What do we do now?" A single tear slid down Hermione's cheek, but she wiped it off quickly with the hem of her sweater.

"Ronald Weasley, I am-" she started in a huffy tone, but stopped suddenly. 

"Well, what do we do?" she asked herself in a small voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other for a moment. Harry felt detached from reality. He felt as if he had seen too much; witnessed too much.  The empty feeling in his chest felt larger, like a hole that could engulf everything. 

"We just-just keep going." Harry said. 

"Easier said than done," said Hermione, looking like she didn't know what to say. Nothing felt right at the moment, except that they had defeated Voldemort. 

"What do you do after defeating the darkest wizard in the world?" Ron said light-heartedly after a loud sniffle, only half-serious.

"Well- I dunno." Said Harry, his voice thick, "Didn't think about that."

Ron and Hermione watched Harry worriedly through their grief, for he had changed so much in the last hour. They didn't blame him, of course, but it shocked them so undecided and insecure.

Harry closed his eyes and touched his scar. He trembled and turned away. 

"Harry," Hermione said hesitantly, "Are you okay?"

He smiled at her feebly, but his eyes were troubled. 

"This doesn't feel real." Harry gulped and looked down, "I was so used to being so angry. It just," he shook his head, "Disappeared. And coming back," he took a deep breath and said, "It was so nice to be there, but Dumbledore, he said to- to- not pity the dead, pity the living."

"It's not right."  Harry whispered, "It's not right."  He put his head against the wall, and slid down it. His eyes burned with tears and he brushed them away vigorously.

"It just can't end this way." His voice broke and he looked down at his shoes. He felt something next to him; Ron had sat down next to him. His hair was covered in dirt and his face was streaked with tears.

"I didn't want it to end this way either, mate," he started in a low voice, "But it did."

Hermione lowered herself down in front of them and took Ron's hand. 

"But we just have to get through it." She said softly.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other again. Grief lined their faces and they looked older, older than they were before. But in each face, there was a glimmer of hope. Everything was alright.

TO BE CONTINUED :)        

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