He won… He won… He won…
Harry still can't believe it, but the words are repeating in his head, over and over and over. Improbable, impossible, but wonderfully true.
It feels as if he's underwater, all muted sounds and a mass of moving, undistinguishable people.
He is searching the crowd. Fighting the fog in his head. Searching for something, anything, but what? A face, one he should recognise. Hermione! Hermione is rushing to him, hair flying wild, face flushed.
"I won?" he mutters, wide eyes staring up at his bushy haired friend. It's not really a question, but she answers him anyway with a bewildered "Yes".
Three letters, one word, so much meaning.
Harry frowns, biting his lip "No," he corrects her, "we did it, we won."
He is gone. He is gone. Gone, gone, gone! Again and again the words echo in his mind, this time happily, energising, a mantra. Heart still pounding. Adrenaline still running through his veins, giving him some strength, much needed strength, for he can hardly keep himself on his feet.
And suddenly it feels like someone removed the plugs from his ears, because there is so much noise.
People are shouting.
Some are yelling euphorically, mainly Ordermembers, aurors and some Hogwarts students. Students, who are way too young to be here. But they fought anyway, to protect Hogwarts.
The Deatheaters are screaming in despair. Once feared men and women are crying their hearts out on the dirty, bloody floor.
Some people look almost comically confused. They don't know what to think, to feel, for it is finally over, but at too high a cost.
Prove of the necessity of hyphening and capitalisation, because we all remember who won that last battle.
