Harry Potter was digging, his hands grabbing large rocks, chucking them aside like they were pebbles; the mud and dirt not bothering him. As he dug his heart was falling apart, the emotion he felt making him continue digging with vigour. He didn't care for his own well-being at the moment, the large gash ignored on his left side, his blood stained Hogwarts shirt sticking to his skin, none of that mattered at the moment. His goal was far more important.
Harry was evidently getting tired, but he couldn't stop, she just had to be under all the dirt and rubble. Ginny Weasley soon to be Potter was under there, his fiancé, his love. She was surely to be injured; he knew that, but the extent of it he didn't know. He had tried to erect a shield around her just before he destroyed Voldemort, but his mind was yelling at him telling him it wasn't enough.
He kept digging, because that was all that mattered at the moment, Ron and Hermione were already dead, there bodies lying on top of one another; Ron's last effort to protect Hermione. Hagrid lay on the other side of the lake of Hogwarts, broken and battered.
Hogwarts' ground was a battle site. Quite fitting seeming as one had just occurred. Death Eaters were littered everywhere, dark creatures pierced with arrows from the centaurs, all dead now.
Harry dug like his life depended on it, someone must have survived the final encounter; they just must of. Harry chucked aside a rather large piece of Hogwarts castle. His fingers tingled from the magic that the stone contained.
There, a vision of hope for Harry, pale skin. Ginny's pale skin, blood splattered over it. He didn't care; she just had to be alive. Harry removed the remaining boulders aside with strength he didn't know he had.
Ginny lay there, her leg obviously broken, her eyes closed, a look of pain etched over her face. Harry couldn't help himself; a lone tear leaked from his eye, the dim lifeless eyes, the eyes that just registered that his fiancé was dead. So much pain and anguish displayed through them. Had there been anyone to look into those eyes, they would have wept as well, his feelings flowing off of his body like a river.
But there wasn't anyone, there was no-one, they had all died. But for a good cause. Voldemort was finished, the Death Eater's destroyed, and no person or being bearing the dark mark had survived after Harry finished off Voldemort.
But he was the only one left, Harry had nothing now, there was absolutely nothing. The prophecy had been wrong, how was he supposed to live like this, he couldn't, he didn't have a life anymore, not one that was worth living anyway.
Harry finally looked around, the battle field passing before his eyes. He wept a tear for every single person who had died for the light side. He could see Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, there wands broken beside them. But he could also see three giants in front of them, obviously been killed by them.
Harry felt a slight admiration for the small and stern professors. They had helped protect Hogwarts.
Harry slithered his hands underneath Ginny, his Ginny. The Ginny he had proposed to the day before, the day after the exams had finished. But that was all worthless now. He picked her up, not before tucking a lone strand of red hair behind her ear. She had never liked her hair in her face.
Harry stood, Ginny in his arms, helplessly laying limp, her arms dangling over the sides. He started walking to what was left of Hogwarts, the Gryffindor tower had been demolished, the remnants scattered on the ground.
He kept walking, soon realising the pain in his side, the gash felt deeper than he first thought when Voldemort slashed him with his own blade. The basilisk venom on it taking no effect.
Harry stopped; he had spotted Neville, the sword of Gryffindor lying at his side. Nagini cut in half, the blood evident on the blade.
Harry put Ginny down gently. He picked up the sword up; a feeling of warmth enveloped him like only a warm blanket could. He attached it to his right side through the holster.
He continued, Ginny once again in his arms.
The entrance hall was a tip, paintings slashed; pieces of armour littered the floor, the beautiful white stone blood splattered. Spell burns on the walls, chunks missing. It was a deathly sight to see.
Harry could see first years slaughtered in the great hall. He didn't want to venture into that place, so many people dead because of his battle. Without thinking, Harry's legs walked, he didn't really know where he was going; only that he was going there.
It wasn't the fact that he didn't know where he was going; it was more the fact that he didn't have the energy or the attention span at the moment to really care; guilt overwhelming him.
Harry continued walking, his face clean of blood from all the tears he had spilt. He stopped. He should have known he would take himself to this place. The stone gargoyle, still protecting the head teacher's chambers.
"Voldemort" Harry said. The gargoyle moved aside, Professor McGonagall had thought that if people had to say the name of their feared enemy then they wouldn't be as scared when it came to the final battle. It had worked as well; students and teachers alike had gone onto the battlefield, Harry leading, with the courage that Godric Gryffindor himself would envy.
Harry reached the top of the stairs. The large oak doors were already open for him, no headmaster or headmistress available to invite him in.
And there, on the wall, behind the desk was the painting of the one person that Harry knew he could find answers from. The painting of Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts most celebrated Headmaster. Harry lowered Ginny into the heads chair, the leather moulding to her dead form.
"Harry, did you succeed, is he truly dead?" Dumbledore's voice penetrated the silence.
Harry murmured something incoherently.
"What was that my boy?"
"I said yes, he's finally gone. But.. b..b but everything else is gone, the entire staff, the students, even the people of the village are dead. AND IT WAS ALL BECAUSE OF ME!" Harry couldn't help but shout the last part, his temper, from his mother, rising and it didn't look to be going anywhere.
"Harry, there is no need to feel guilt, they all died valiantly, with great reason and for a superb purpose."
Harry didn't say anything, there was nothing else to say.
"Albus," Harry had taken to using his first name after the long hours he had talked to his portrait, preparing him for the final battle. "I just wish, that everything was as it used to be, no Voldemort to worry about, the Dursleys out of my life; that summer was the happiest memories of my life Albus, why did Voldemort have to take that all away from me. Attempts at my life all year, poison, knives, spells, you name it I've had it this past year. And now they've taken the one thing that would have made me carry on" He turned to look at Ginny lithe form, her lifeless form, truly dead.
"My boy, I do not want to diminish your memories, you should cherish them forever; but there maybe a way, albeit a very risky process, one that could easily take your life."
"What is it?" Harry's interest peaked. If there was a way to try again, a way to start over he would take any risk thrown his way.
"That shelf over there, above the pensieve Harry, that's it, second shelf down, one..two..three books across from the left. That's the one"
Harry looked at the book, 'Advanced magik of olde'
Harry opened the book, its pages yellow with age. "Turn to the back Harry, page 278" Harry did so, the title made his mind ring like an alarm; this could be it, a chance to start over.
The spell read 'firmus a vita' and if his latin served him right, that translated to 'relive a life'
The spell looked complicated; it meant draining your body of its magic, using it to propel you back into the past. There was blood involved as well. Harry hadn't particularly taken to blood magic, ever since some of his was taken from him by force the night Voldemort returned.
"May I suggest my boy that you do a few things first? Perhaps emptying your Gringotts account, take measures to ensure your safety." Harry had to agree, this time he would be ready, this time he wouldn't make all of the mistakes he had made previous. This time he would be careful.
Harry squinted as a sudden ray of light, red from all the blood spilt, filtered through the window. Morning had come, how Harry cherished the rising sun, signifying a new beginning, a new day.
"I best be off then Albus, but I shall return, to say goodbye." Harry said; determination evident in his voice. "You better Harry, I know I'm only a portrait, but I would like to see my most favoured student one more time."
Harry picked Ginny up; he would first take her to lay with her family, her brothers and parents, all whom had perished at the dark lord's hand.