It was over... and he had won.
Harry had defeated Voldemort.
He had won. He had lived. He was, even now, alive.
It was a heady feeling, but not in the way that Harry had expected. He didn't really feel triumphant. All Harry really felt was this enormous sense of peace. He supposed that later on he might feel something else, maybe a drive to do something about the remnants of those who followed the man that Harry had just destroyed. Maybe it would be grief for the fallen.
But right now, Harry couldn't imagine his life past the greying sense of relief, and nor did he much want to.
It was over... and he had won.
Harry had defeated Voldemort.
He had won. He had lived. And so had the rest of them.
It was an odd feeling, this misplaced sense of victory. She hadn't really been allowed to do much of use to anyone, so it didn't make sense that she was feeling this triumph as if it was her own. But maybe it sort of was. She had survived. Ginny thought maybe that counted as a victory in this crazy battle.
In a minute, or maybe two, she knew that it would all really catch up with her, and she would begin to see the ghosts of those who had lost their lives when she hadn't.
But for right now, Ginny was riding high.
It was over, but it was really just beginning.
A lifetime without him, her baby boy, starting at this very moment.
It was a horrible feeling, this realization that she would never again see her son's face light up with a smile, or hear another of his jokes. Some might say that time would heal this wound, that she would find solace in the five children she had left, but Molly knew the truth. She would feel his lack every moment of the rest of her life, especially when surrounded by the family she had left to her.
Soon, she might be able to stay her tears, and stand tall again, to pull herself back together, at least a bit.
But for right now, Molly was lost to her grief.
The battle was over...and he could scarcely make himself care.
They'd done what they had to, fought the bad guys, and won, but all of that seemed sort of...secondary.
The battle, the death and destruction, it was all sort of out of focus for him. Ron knew that, years from now, when someone asked him what the most important moment of the day had been, his answer would have nothing to do with taking down Death Eaters or seeing his best friend come back from the dead. He'd tell whoever asked that the most important thing he had done that day was kiss Hermione Granger for the first time ever.
Soon, this exalted feeling would probably fade in the face of grief more potent than any he had ever felt before.
But for right now, Ron was unstoppable.
It was over, now...and they had won.
Their work of these last twelve months, Dumbledore's work of years, all bore fruit and brought victory to the cause of light.
But she wasn't thinking of that now. Her mind was already on the future, building pretty castles in the clouds and filling them with plans...and books. She was sick of the bickering and the scrimping and fear. It was time for her friends to come out into the light again, and be happy. It was time to put an end to the lies that were between her and the parents she had banished to Australia. It was a time for hope made into bright reality.
Soon, her plans might change, her dreams alter to appease reality, and her carefully polished illusions shatter once more.
But for right now, Hermione held the shinning future aloft in her eyes for all to see.
It was over...and he hadn't won.
The side he had chosen had been beaten back, his closest friends were gone.
And yet, he couldn't think of that way, really. Because, for the first time since he was very small, he felt his parents' arms around him, holding him tight. Assuredly, the old ways were gone forever, and that would be a hard adjustment to make. He would miss old friends and old privileges, but it could have been much, much worse. Perhaps they didn't deserve it, but somehow his family had gotten a reprieve.
Soon, he was have to decide what to do with that second chance.
But for right now, Draco just thanked god that he was alive.
It was over, and there were no winners.
There were those who had lost more, and those who had lost less, but there were none who had come through unscathed.
The encroaching forces of darkness were beaten back, but that didn't mean the light had gained much. Too many had died for there to be any clear victor. There was perhaps now equilibrium in the world, and perhaps that was the most that could ever be hoped for.
Soon, the frenzied feelings of battle would fade, and the world would need to prepare for approaching confrontation agan.
But for now, the war gods were sated, and the swords of good and evil dozed.