Scuffed midnight hair fell into the youth's eyes as he ran on towards the lurking forest, one hand coming up to quickly brush away the stray strands. He stumbled onwards, emerald optics gazing around frantically beind those thick, black-rimmed glasses, for any signs of a friend, somebody he knew. But in the rush and the fleeing congregation, he could barely see nothing besides floods of screaming people.
Unable to make out anybody's face, he ran onwards, unsure of what else to do in order to prevent the unearthly massacre that had just pounced upon Hogwarts, a looming feeling of despair echoing in his stomach. There had been a Death Eater attack. Lucius Malfoy and his sickening comrades had destroyed the castle with their evil ways. Leaving only burning embers to reside in it's place.
The boy shook his head, those haunting images of dearest Dumbledore stood at the head of the Great Hall with a look of utter despair and panic on his soft, ancient features, clouding his mind. For the first time since he had come to Hogwarts, he had actually seen Dumbledore worried. That strong, soft spoken man that had taken him under his wing and protected him for all those years against both the evil forces of Lord Voldemort and the cackling lies of the Ministry of Magic - with Cornelius Fudge, had been scared.
Now one pale hand clasped firmly around the beloved wand in his pocket, the boy raced on towards the Forbidden Forest, stumbling and tripping over his tattered Gryffindor robes. But he didn't want to run anymore, he didn't want to leave the only place that he'd actually been able to call "home" to crumble and die at the hands of The Dark Lord's servants, he didn't want to run away whilst behind him his friends and fellow students innocently died at the hands of the Death Eaters. He wanted to turn around right now and fight. He wanted to point his wand at the enemy and mutter those two words which would put them out of the wizarding world for good...But he was only a boy. He was only a sixteen year old wizard. And for the first time, since his arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry Potter was helpless.
Harry ran into the depths of the Forbidden Forest, turning one last time to glance at the burning remains of the castle before slipping into the darkness. Scratched and bleeding, he slumped between the dark roots of a knarled oak, his mind spinning with terrible thoughts. Where were Ron and Hermione? Were the rest of the Gryffindors alright? How about Hagrid? What had happened to Dumbledore?
He brought his knees up to his chest, viridian eyes swimming with tears of loss. Everything he had known had been destroyed. Everything he had loved was gone. Only one thing remained...and that was the wand he now held in a shaking palm. Crystal tears gently trickling down his blood stained cheeks, Harry listened as the desperate screams of the innocent faded away into the evening, leaving nothing but a gaping silence behind...
A silence that was only disturbed by a rather thin, sixteen year old boy, as he sobbed into the darkness, one hand trembling across the oddly shaped scar that cursed his forehead...