Derelict
Many thanks to J.K. Rowling for her work of genius.
A full moon overhead, red, brown, and orange-yellow leaves underfoot, Harry Potter walked through the Forbidden Forest, trees shading him from the trenchant rays of moonlight and unforgiving gray-blue clouds.
Behind him lay destruction and death, pools of blood running through the meadows, staining each emerald blade of grass and seeping deep beneath the topsoil. All was tainted, impure, for the blood that trickled down the mountainsides in steady rivulets was the blood of innocents, of young and old alike, wicked and kind-hearted; for death did not distinguish.
Harry himself was smeared with such blood; for even the living could not escape death's last pleas, last scratches on the tomb of eternal rest. But after the crimson flaws that stippled his chafed flesh had been washed away, after all physical indications of wrongdoing had been hidden from sight, still would rest on the guilt-ridden heart of Harry Potter the knowledge of his sins.
And before Harry, as the full moon revealed to him, the devastation that once was Hogwarts loomed, not a speck in the distance as Harry had hoped, but the impressive grounds now reeking of despair. Reduced to rubble, the castle certainly did not bear results of centuries of sweat and sheer determination, which had ended in a crumbling friendship among four greats and a constant barrage of those with the will to bring to life their legacy.
Each footstep sent the pain the earth harbored into Harry's body, shaking him deeply and ending with a high pitched cry of agony that could only be one thing: silence. He trod onwards, the castle that was once his pride and joy drawing ever close, reminding him, ever silently, of its new role as the bane of his torturous existence.
To perhaps seek peace from friends, although many more had become enemies since his carefree days at Hogwarts had ceased to be, Harry trudged on, eyeing, surveying the immense stones littering the lawn, reminding no one, but himself, of the vast expanse of land Hogwarts once perched upon.
His eyes roved over patches of dead, yellowed grass beside dirt, stone, and other remains, until a glittering amidst the decay caught his keen eyes. The light in a field of darkness beneath a cloudy sky drew him closer...