It was over. The war was over. Everything had finally turned out all right. Almost like Dumbledore had said it would… almost like that. Harry sighed in relief. He felt hot liquid dripping down the back of his leg. He knew it was blood from some sort of injury but he didn't bother using the willpower that was needed to care or feel pain. A black sand partially enveloped him as he lay on the ground. The sand burned hot as fire but Harry couldn't have been less responsive to it. The sand was all that remained of Voldemort. It would be taken to the ministry later for testing… If there still was a ministry. Harry wasn't sure.
He wouldn't have even minded dying at this point so being sure of anything was much beyond him. Voldemort was dead. Harry was alive. That was all that mattered. Harry barely cared that he hadn't owned the climactic moment. He didn't care that he would no longer be known in history books as he had previously anticipated but as a fluke who survived a famous curse. He didn't care that his glory had been stolen. At least he was still breathing.
Harry sat up on his elbows to survey the circum stances. Crumpled black robes lay scattered him. The remains of Death Eaters, he supposed. He could spot Hestia Jones, a member of the order who had once been part of an advanced guard transporting him to Grimmald Place, sprawled out on the floor, eyes still screaming with the last pains of a Cruciatus Curse. Next to her lay most of Deglus Diggle, Harry knew it was he by the violet top hat supported only by his neck.
Harry looked past these two tragedies. He had heard a soft sound of sobbing and he now realized who it was. Ginny was crying over what a dead body on the floor. She was kneeling over it and her tears were falling on its chest. Harry squinted and recognized Neville as the body. Harry was glad someone was crying over Neville. If Harry was dead, he would want someone to cry over him. Ginny turned her head slightly and her hair obscured Harry's view. Harry was grateful for that. He didn't want to see anymore dead friends.
Harry twisted to his right. He saw Fred Weasly carrying out Padma Patil by means of a good hover charm. Padma was moaning a bit and her head drooped to the right side, resting on her shoulder. Suddenly Harry was very nervous. He had not yet caught sight of Ron or Hermione. He needed to find Ron immediately and make sure he was all right.
Harry twisted once more and saw a shock of red hair. He was overjoyed at the sight of it. He groped blindly in the air, trying to find some support. Stand he did, and falling down he did moments later. He resolved to crawl using his uninjured arm and leg only, down low on the floor, army style.
It took awhile but eventually he managed to reach Ron. He lay down beside him and checked Ron's wrist for a pulse. He pressed hard and couldn't feel anything. Deciding that he was doing it wrong, he pressed Ron's wrist to his ear in order to listen intently. In due time, Harry heard a soft "Lub dup, lub dup." He exhaled in relief.
Black, Gray and Purple enveloped the world of Harry Potter.