Scar
By Seabreeze
A/N: At the HP site I hang out at, harrypotterrealm.com, there was a contest on the main message board that I entered this with. The contest was to write how you thought the seventh book would end (of course using 'scar' as the last word). This is what I put in. It's pretty short, a one-shot.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and if I'm correct, neither do you.
Harry dropped to his knees, lifting his face to the sky and letting the cool rain soak his clothes. The wind whipped his hair savagely into and from his vision, and it tugged gently but persistently at his robes. There was too much rain for him to see well, so he slowly pulled off his glasses. The black clouds above rumbled threateningly, but Harry didn't move. Lightning flashed not twenty feet away from the very spot he kneeled, but he didn't flinch.
So he had won. He had defeated Voldemort. The casualties had been insane- the loss of too many friends and loved ones. A tear rolled down Harry's cheek, mingling with the cold rain as he thought of them all- Ginny, Dumbledore, Hagrid. Presently, Ron and Hermione approached him from behind.
"Harry," Ron said quietly. He laid his wide palm on Harry's shoulder, shaking from exertion and pain and sadness.
"Yes." Harry turned to watch the sadness in his friend's face, but when he found it too much he turned back to the sky. Hermione kneeled next to him in the mud, taking both his and Ron's hands in her own.
"It'll all be alright," she said softly, gazing into the sky as Harry and Ron were. "It's over,"
And so it was. Just as it had always been- the three of them. He could always count on three things: himself, Ron, and Hermione; the sky; and his scar.
By Seabreeze
A/N: At the HP site I hang out at, harrypotterrealm.com, there was a contest on the main message board that I entered this with. The contest was to write how you thought the seventh book would end (of course using 'scar' as the last word). This is what I put in. It's pretty short, a one-shot.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and if I'm correct, neither do you.
Harry dropped to his knees, lifting his face to the sky and letting the cool rain soak his clothes. The wind whipped his hair savagely into and from his vision, and it tugged gently but persistently at his robes. There was too much rain for him to see well, so he slowly pulled off his glasses. The black clouds above rumbled threateningly, but Harry didn't move. Lightning flashed not twenty feet away from the very spot he kneeled, but he didn't flinch.
So he had won. He had defeated Voldemort. The casualties had been insane- the loss of too many friends and loved ones. A tear rolled down Harry's cheek, mingling with the cold rain as he thought of them all- Ginny, Dumbledore, Hagrid. Presently, Ron and Hermione approached him from behind.
"Harry," Ron said quietly. He laid his wide palm on Harry's shoulder, shaking from exertion and pain and sadness.
"Yes." Harry turned to watch the sadness in his friend's face, but when he found it too much he turned back to the sky. Hermione kneeled next to him in the mud, taking both his and Ron's hands in her own.
"It'll all be alright," she said softly, gazing into the sky as Harry and Ron were. "It's over,"
And so it was. Just as it had always been- the three of them. He could always count on three things: himself, Ron, and Hermione; the sky; and his scar.