Chapter 1
Recovery
The smoke that had been emulating from wand tips from last night was beginning to drift into the boy's dormitory. An extremely tired Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan walked into the room. Each of them walked over to their four poster bed and collapsed on it like a troll that had gotten its legs cut off. Ron seemed to be so dazed, tired and confused that he missed his bed completely, landing on the hard wooden floor. If it had not been for his overturned suitcase with a small pile of clothes pouring out of it that he landed on, he probably would have knocked himself out cold…
Harry was lying down on his bed… merely pretending to sleep. He was staring through squinted eyes at the top of his four poster bed. He could not sleep. But he could not pin-point the reason. It could be excitement from the battle; or the relief that Voldemort was finally dead; and gone from the world; or even the guilt that it was because of him that 10-20 people now lay dead because he did not give in to Voldemort.
He sat there for a while, simply staring and thinking about what had just happened. He clutched the Elder Wand in his hand. He wished that he could squeezed it harder and harder until it smashed to hundreds of small pieces of wood splinters. Though, regrettably, he could not. He slowly made to sit up on his bed, but only made it halfway up before he was pinned back to his bed, a wand was pushed so far into the middle of his throat that he thought that he thought it would puncture it. A red light emulated from the owner's wand. Harry struggled, but a hand had been slapped over his mouth so that any cries for help were muffled. He had dropped the Elder Wand. It was inches away. He struggled for it, but the other wizard, or witch had kicked it away and it had rolled under Seamus's bed. The person hoisted Harry up, facing Harry toward the door, with them behind. He looked around the room and noticed that all of the boys had been knocked out cold by something or other.
He had noticed that his "capture" had a skull-like mask on and he was probably male. He leaned in next to Harry's ear, breathing his hot breathe on Harry's shoulder.
"Well, well… look at what we 'ave 'ere. Little Potty without his Hogwarts pals to back him up!" said a scratchy, deep voice from behind Harry.