A silence filled the vast expanse. There were no crying children. No screaming women. No men, completely broken down by what they had seen. What they had done.
Wind blew over the brown, barren desert of bodies and burnt buildings. Mist covered the expanse so the true extent of the horror could not be seen. Thousands of miles simply covered in the dead. Dead humans, dead animals, dead plants and dead spirits.
Flames did not burn for they too had lost the will of what nature ordered them to do. It is true; the wind did blow but with no life and it brought no fresh smell of existence. Just a rotten, decayed aroma of loss.
A three people stood in the middle of the battlefield. They saw the fallen. They heard the silence. They smelt the scent of death.
One, a black haired man, sighed. His emerald green eyes roamed the battleground. The staging area of the last battle. The 'perfect' plan. He shook his messy hair in hopelessness.
"He is dead. But at what cost?" His companions looked up. A ginger haired man put his arm around the first and whispered,
"Many have died. But some still live! Surely that, more than anything,, is a good enough price?"
The woman remained silent. She knelt down to cup the chin of a certain blonde. Despite all that had happened the woman chuckled softly. She still wore those radish earrings. Sighing she looked to the left where a slightly chubby brown-haired man lay, his arms still around the blonde. Although they had never gone out they had remained close friends, brought together by a childish club. The only ones who had answered the call when needed on that fateful night on which Dumbledore had died. The most loyal and devoted of all the D.A. members.
The black-haired man knelt down beside her to gaze at a beautiful redhead. She remained gorgeous, even in death. He remembered worrying about her, worrying that she would be caught because of him. He had taken measures to make sure that she wouldn't get caught. She didn't get caught but she had died all the same. Irony, really. He pushes her away to protect her, but in fact him pushing her away leads to her death.
The ginger-haired man looked away from the corpses of his friends and sister. He sees pale blonde hair, almost white shining through the mist. Walking away from the other two he sees one who he had once considered an enemy. Now, however, deep inside himself he knew that fighting here, the blonde man had redeemed himself.
So many had died. Glancing around they saw familiar faces everywhere. Their enemies, their allies, their friends. All of the Order. Their families lying entwined with their adversaries.
"Come, let us go." The brown haired woman stood up her deep, brown eyes betraying the calmness of her voice.
"Like he said, 'some still live'. To dwell in the past will not help anyone. We did our task. At a great cost, yes, but it is done. Now let us enjoy life while we still live." With that she took them gently by the elbows and turned disappearing with a small popping sound.
This is my first fic, hope you enjoyed! Sorry about all the depressing stuff its just that i've been sick for 2 weeks so stuck at home for 2 weeks which is a tad depressing. Please Review!