Harry glared around the field that was littered with bodies. Some of the bodies belonged to his friend; other bodies belonged to his enemies. Some of the bodies looked as if they were scared to death, but otherwise perfectly fine. Those deaths were caused by the Avada Kedavra curse. But some of the other bodies were bent in grotesque ways, or covered with blood which was clearly their cause of death. Some bodies even seemed to be moving slightly, but Harry couldn't tell if it was the wind blowing their robes to cause movement or the fact the injured was alive.
One body, a particularly ugly one, was laid closest to Harry. The much hated face still looked as snakelike and venomous as it had when it was alive. The look on its face was just a cold anger, even though right before it died it had been facing death in its face. But it was lifeless and that's what Harry tied to focus on.
Lord Voldemort was dead and that's all that matter.
As Harry surveyed the grounds he knew his victory would be short lived. There was barely six feet between the bodies of the dead. And the stench in the air was already too heady and disgusting to stomach. The hot June sun seemed to be cooking the bodies as they lay lifeless on the dry ground. Harry spotted the castle in the distance and felt a wave of undeluded nausea. His beloved Hogwarts was crumbling. But it wasn't crumbling of old age; it was crumbling because of spells missing their targets and hitting it. In his weakened, unprotected state, it was as good as gone. The castle was just another casualty.
"We won, Harry. You won," said a voice from his left.
Harry turned and saw Hermione Grange standing next to him. She was covered with a layer of sweat and dirt. She looked like she'd just fought in a war, which, he realized, she had."Ron?" Harry prompted. All Hermione did was shake her head as tears welled up in her eyes, but that's all the answer Harry needed. Ron would be seen as just another casualty, too.
Lupin, Bill, and Shacklebolt walked up beside the two friends. They all three looked like Hermione: covered with dirt and sweat. But Lupin and Bill were covered with blood, too. Harry sincerely hoped it wasn't their blood, but decided not to ask.
"You won, mate," Bill said in a dead voice.
"We won," Harry mused out loud, "but at what cost? And even if we really won the battle, who really won the war?"
"No one," Lupin said in his even voice, "No one wins at war."
"You know, this wasn't even suppose to be the final battle," Hermione pointed out. "Voldemort wasn't suppose to be here." She gestured to the body. "How many would have died if we had brought everyone?"
"I don't even want to know," Bill said, his voice heavy with worry and regret. Harry supposed he had been one of the ones who lost the most. Out of a family of eleven, he had lost all but his mom, sister, and baby son. His wife, whom he was married to for only a few months, died today. She was the first casualty of the day. She had set the tone for all the followed.
"I can't remember what I was fighting for anyway," Harry said, shaking his head.
Harry was glad when he was answered with silence.
With one last look at the angry lifeless body, Harry Disapparated, but he knew he'd never forget the scene that had been before him on that hot day at Hogwarts.