-Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns the Story, the song is Les Miserables Empty Chairs At Empty Tables-
"Where is everybody?" Hermione asked, looking around the empty courtyard, glancing at the piles of rubble, as though expecting people to jump out from behind them. Fires blazed here and there, amongst the mounds of rocks and between the arches.
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
They slowly headed into the entrance hall, which was, again, empty. When they reached the doors of the great hall, Ron pushed them open, and as the doors swung wide, the trio stopped in mutual horror. Harry looked at the rows of bodies lining the centre of the floor, and felt his blood run cold.
There's a pain goes on and on.
He slowly made his way through the doorway, avoiding the bloody track staining the ground. He tried to avert his gaze from the people lying on the ground; thankfully they were covered with cloths, so he couldn't see their faces, though the desire to know whether any of his friends lay beneath them was great. Hermione moved closer to Ron, her hand holding his so tight her knuckles were white.
Empty chairs at empty tables
The four tables were piled on the sides, along with the benches, where several of the injured were being treated. Harry tore his gaze away, not daring to look. Ron and Hermione moved ahead, going towards the back of the hall, but Harry found himself unable to move further.
Now my friends are dead and gone.
The eerie silence that filled the air was stifling, surrounding him with Death's cruel bite. As he looked at the bodies on the ground, he remembered a time, not too long before, when they had met up in an act of defiance.
Here they talked of revolution.
An image of the Room of Requirement floated before his eyes.
Here it was they lit the flame.
He remembered them practising spells, doing everything they could to prepare themselves.
Here they sang about `tomorrow'
Hermione's coins telling them when to meet, Ginny mastering Bombarda, Ron performing his first patronus, Neville managing Expelliarmus, they had all been doing so well.
And tomorrow never came.
His gaze found the rows of bodies once more, recognising the small form of Colin Creevey, who must have sneaked back when they had been evacuating students. So small, so young to die.
From the table in the corner
He passed Slughorn, who was treating Filch's arm, and gave them a small nod, however he was looking for someone else.
They could see a world reborn
He passed students and teachers alike, sitting on the benches, their faces masked with sorrow. He recognised two siblings from Ravenclaw crouched next to a small figure covered with a cloth, the elder brother comforting the younger sister. He vaguely remembered them having a little brother joining the year before, and with a sigh he guessed who lay beneath the gauze.
And they rose with voices ringing
Someone brushed past him, and he recognised Madam Pomfrey, who gave him a nod as she carried on, preparing to treat yet another student, her hands and apron stained with blood.
I can hear them now!
He passed a little girl sobbing on the floor, her arm wrapped in a bandage, which was already tainted red.
The very words that they had sung
Trelawney and Padma Patil sat next to a girl, Trelawney feeling the girl's pulse, before shaking her head, announcing her dead.
Became their last communion
He carried on, dragging his feet, his eyes searching the room for his friends.
On the lonely barricade at dawn.
A group of people up ahead caught his eye; the Weasleys were crowded around, surrounding a figure on the ground. Harry's froze. No, not one of them, please don't let any of them be dead. His gaze found the figure, and with horror he recognised Fred. Ever-joking, forever-laughing Fred, lying cold on the stone floor, unable to laugh again.
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
Ron rushed to George, hugging him tightly, before falling down beside the body of his deceased sibling. Harry watched with grief as his best friend choked out his sobs over his brother's frame. Hermione stood close by, tears leaving tracks in the dirt on her face. No family should have to bear this, Harry thought, barely stopping the tears as he found Mrs Weasley, who watched the body of her son with unconcealed anguish. No parent should see their child die before them.
That I live and you are gone.
Harry turned his head away, only to be greeted with another painful sight. Tonks and Lupin lay side by side amongst the dead, their hands almost touching. His heart broke a little more, what would happen to Teddy? What would happen to his Godson now that his parents were dead? A jolt of horror ran through Harry, as he realised his Godson was an orphan just like him. He would never know his parents either; both of their parents had been killed in war.
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
Guilt flowed through him as he looked at his dead friends, he had said at the burrow, no one would die for him. Yet here, cold as ice, they lay.
There's a pain goes on and on.
McGonagall moved towards him, limping slightly, but Harry couldn't take it. It was his fault! It was entirely his fault, he should have given himself up already, and then they would still be alive. He turned, heading back towards the Entrance hall.
Phantom faces at the window.
The faces of the dead flew before his eyes, accusing him of their deaths.
Phantom shadows on the floor.
Tonks had just had a baby. Remus had been so happy; he had a child, something he had never even dreamt of having a child, due to his being a werewolf. And now, they would never be able to be a family.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Fred. How could Fred Weasley be dead? Was it possible for the family to recover, Fred had been like an older brother to him, so how must George be feeling? They did everything together, they weren't just brothers, not just twins, they were best friends. And now George would have to spend the rest of his life without his other half. And Harry knew that would break him.
Where my friends will meet no more.
He needed to escape, he couldn't take it, he needed to get away from it all, clear his thoughts, make his final decision.
Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me
There was only one place he could go, somewhere he hoped he wouldn't be followed.
What your sacrifice was for
As he left the Great hall, he looked behind him, one last time.
Empty chairs at empty tables
His friends, fellow students, teachers, members of the Order of the Phoenix, all of them, had risked their lives to help him, some had died helping him and Harry knew he had just one choice. Yes, he would think it over, say goodbye, but he still knew what his decision would be.
Where my friends will sing no more.
As he walked towards Dumbledore's office he resigned himself to the inevitable, realising he wasn't scared. He would be with his parents, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Fred and Dumbledore. After all, death is but the next adventure, he thought, remembering some of the wise words of his favourite Headmaster.
Some things you don't have a choice in, some things you have to do.
For the greater good.
A/N Thanks for reading! I got the idea when listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack. Please let me know if you liked it! Littlelots :D