We All Fall Down

A/N: This is written about the Final Battle and completely disregards HBP. It's an idea I've had for awhile about what would possibly happen if the battle ends up breaking Harry.

Soulless eyes gazed into an unending abyss; a broken tribute to the world's greatest achievement, and the world's greatest failure. Everyone was stunned it had survived the war. It was broken beyond repair, shattered. That it had once been great was an axiom everyone reiterated repeatedly.

They left him alone to deal with the dark corners of his mind; that of which has seen such horror that the only option was madness. It was quite possibly the foolish thing they could have done. Perhaps with more care and loving he would have come back kind and carefree. But he now resembled one that had come back from the afterlife; his eyes empty and unforgiving, impartial and indifferent to all that was happening around him. Insanity without a vendetta, as there was no real reason for it to exist.

Everyone whispered, their eyes wide in fear of the unknown. They were all in distress at what had happened to their savior. The way he had deposed of the Dark Lord was inhumane. "Dark…evil…" It was always said, although not in the presence of said savior's old friends.

Even they were afraid of the Boy-Who-Lived; his mockery of a smile, his chilling laughter, his apathetic eyes.

We all fall down

And they did. They all fell down off the unending precipice of reality. They paid the price of abandoning their light to the darkness. His cruelty knew no bounds. His trademark grin which spoke of insanity haunted those that were witnesses to his psychosis. The blood on his coat was forever imbedded in the minds of all that saw it. All that could be thought in tumultuous horror, was,

'Dear God, what have we done?'