A light shone on his face. There were a few bird chirps and quiet snoring from beside him. Opening his eyes slowly, he realized it was a new day. And he was warm and whole and safe. He felt a part of him was done now. The part of him that was prophesised about was complete. He let out a great breath which almost resembled a sigh.
Now though, what was left of him?
His initial intention was to consider what he should do now – now that he survived, and could live. But instead losses washed over him, crashing in waves drowning him. Struggling to breathe now, he rolled in broken movements from his back – the position he had found himself after throwing himself on the bed, and falling instantly asleep – onto his side, curling his legs up slightly. He had turned towards where the snores were coming from.
Not wanting to think right now, so as not to feel, he made a decision. Though he felt lying in bed was easier, his body so wore out, he could not bare thinking. That was too much. So he opened his eyes again and realized he could see. His glasses were still on his face, albeit very dirty.
With effort he convinced himself to get up. Putting one leg after another on the ground he had to use both arms to lift his torso off the bed. Everything hurt. Almost everything at least.
Testing weight on one leg and then the other, he stood. With an awkward gait from his stiff legs –and trying in vain not to jostle his aching chest and head – he made it to the washroom. Not wanting to see how he looked he passed the mirrors, discarded his battered clothes, and stepped into a warm shower.
A while later, feeling more relaxed, clean, alert, and ready to face the days trials, he stepped out to realize he had no clothes. Not caring if seen by Ron and Hermione, he made his way back into the dorm where they lay in what should have been Ron's bed had they returned to Hogwarts this past year. Harry opened the first trunk he saw and sorted through until he found the clothing he needed.
Pulling on too big dark grey khakis and a worn dark black casual rugby long-sleeve, a split second of humour passed him thinking of his days before magic wearing Dudley's old clothes. They never did fit his malnourished stature. Was he really this much gaunter right now than this other 17 year old Gryffindor wizard? He supposed his stomach did pain from hunger.
Not wanting to leave his friends for a second time without notice, but also desperately wanting to assess the state of affairs throughout the castle - and to start tying up his own lose ends - he lowered himself beside Ron and Hermione.
Just loud enough to wake them, he got out, "I'm going to the Great Hall."
Both his friends opened their eyes momentarily and Ron made an "mm" sound. Both seemed to relax again into sleep.
Harry, having no idea what time it was, hoped that there would be food still served in the Great Hall. Would the house elves make food today?
Making his way down the stairs from the boys' dorm was the hardest task yet. His body protested but he appreciated it all. I might have been just a day ago he had thought this body was coming to an end as he walked to the forest. Now, he registered his heart beat happily - over the soreness of his joints as he moved.
Silence greeted him as he neared the common room. It was not empty though. Maybe a dozen people littered the area, sleeping. Ginny he saw curled with her mom on the couch in front of the fire place. Mr. Weasley was resting in an arm chair nearby.
Not wanting to think about the losses for the Weasley family; the only complete family he was practically a part of at times, those that had taken him in and now had lost Fred because of their fighting for him. He let his legs continue to carry him through to the portrait hole. He did, keep his glance on his favourite people though, those who he cared for most of all, as he walked. He was thankful they were okay.
The castle was already being repaired. House elves were busy at work in every corridor it seemed, though all stopped when they spied him and waved, or bowed, or clapped, or approached him to wish him well and thank him and give their service. He half-heartedly smiled and thanked them in return, feeling distracted by the destruction, overwhelmed by their support during the battle, and feeling his low energy from hunger. He really did appreciate them more than he could say. He needed to speak with Kreacher.