Pigeons, a harry potter fanfic

He sits on his bench, feeding the pigeons. People walk past at him, whispering about him. They always talk about him because he's different. He looks as if he is in his eighties but at the same time, could not be much older than 40. No one knows why he comes. He arrives early in the morning and leaves late at night. Many people have tried to talk to him, ask him if he's ok but he ignores them. It is as if he is in his own world, he doesn't even appear to notice the tears that stream down both cheeks.

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Hermione had been the first to go. But that hadn't been surprising. Everyone knew she was the brains behind every operation; every attack led against the death eaters had been planned by her and every attack had been successful because of it. If Voldemort was going to get anywhere, then she would have to go first. Hermione had been ambushed, which had been the only surprise in her death as she was always so careful. Everyone had been on edge that day, something wasn't right but it wasn't until they had raced to her home to warn her that they realised what it was that was so unusual. Unfortunately, by the time they had got into her living room, it was too late. Propped up in her chair, she stared at them with empty eye sockets, blood covering her face. She was almost undistinguishable. They had only realised who she was when, and here Harry had broken into hysterics at the sight, they noticed her brown, frizzy hair. No one else had hair like hers. There were many different reactions to her death. Ron was heartbroken; Ginny sobbed constantly for days afterwards, several had been sick, Molly refused to eat for weeks and both Hermione's parents had to be stunned once they were informed but none reacted like Harry. Harry had burst into uncontrollable laughter, not because the situation was so humorous but because he couldn't cope with the loss of one of his closest friends. With tears streaming down his face, he wept and laughed at Hermione's hair and how it was still frizzy after death, how it was the only recognisable thing left.

Ron left them not too soon afterwards. After Hermione's death, he had become reckless. Many believed that he only accepted the most dangerous jobs because he had already given up and was hoping that he would get killed on one of the missions. Ron got his wish, and soon joined his beloved after being hacked to pieces when caught spying in a death eater meeting. Harry hadn't laughed then. In fact, he had been violently sick when he opened his morning post to find parts of Ron scattered in all his letters. Ginny had cried again, but that was expected, Ron had been her closest brother and they had always been the best of friends after Hogwarts as well. Molly had gone to bed, but never awoke. Fred and George stopped laughing. The pranksters, who created many items to also help with the war effort, grew up over night. Not only was their youngest brother dead, but their mother was as well. The day Ron and Molly died was the day the laughter stopped altogether. Gone were the good times.

Ginny had survived years after Ron's death. Instead of losing the will to live, she had been made stronger by the loss of part of her family and more determined to win the battle. However, her determination wasn't enough and she was brought down eventually during a death eater raid. She would have been proud though. Ginny had managed to kill 12 death eaters on her own before succumbing to unconsciousness after receiving the cruico more times than thought to be possible.
There were many attempts to revive her when they found her but it was all to no avail. She had been tortured by the cruciatus curse so much that in order to stop the pain the body was receiving; the mind had shut down itself. A mercy killing. Harry had been thankful for the end. He feared what would have been left had her brain not decided to stop all functions. It was a quick end although it had not been painless. Neville was discovered weeks later, dumped in a ditch. He had been with Ginny at the attack but portkeyed away by a masked death eater. It became apparent that Voldemort had tried to change the subject of the prophecy by marking him with his hideous mark but it had not worked. Very little of Neville was not black. It was apparent that it had failed many times and yet they had not given up. Instead, the dark lord had covered Neville's body before disposing of him, counting him as useless. Neville's grandmother had been surprisingly upset. Years of distance between her and Neville had not stopped her from breaking down. Despite how she used to think of him as useless, Mrs. Longbottom had truly loved the boy and was so distressed about her loss that she had thrown herself from the top floor of St. Mungos. They had not been able to save her.

Arthur, Charlie and Fred were next to go. One week after Neville's body turned up, they were trapped on a mission for the order and quickly killed. Harry was glad that there had been no torture for once and that their deaths had been quick and painless. For George, the loss was torture. Without his twin he was lost and would spend days at a time wondering around the house aimlessly. One night, he had crept into Harry's room and gently shaken Harry awake. George explained to Harry what it was like missing George, how it was like missing half of himself. Harry had been kind and comforted a shaking George before giving him what he had come to ask Harry for. When, Harry saw the glow of green light from under George's door, he knew he had done the right thing. Giving George the permission to let go, to go and join his family was one of the toughest decisions Harry had had to make but it was the correct one. Bill, the last surviving member of the Weasley family had been strong. He knew what the war entailed, and that many people he knew would die. Bill became tougher but more distant. He even started to ignore his wife, Fleur, to put in more effort to win the fight against Voldemort. It wasn't until Fleur was killed at her own home when Bill was out, preventing enemy raids, did he notice that he had neglected her and, cradling his baby, finally broke down. Harry knew he had another hard choice to make, but when Bill crept into his room at night asking for permission, he once again made the right one. Allowing Bill to leave the wizarding world, to raise his little girl in safety, was hard. Bill was the only person left that Harry knew and cared for. He had been family to him once but now he had to pretend that he had been murdered as well. Harry cried at the loss of the Weasleys. The first family he had ever had, had been cruelly taken from him by the same man who had taken away Harry's parents all those years ago.

Voldemort had been the last to die. After fighting for many years, on his 26th birthday, Harry James Potter brought down Lord Voldemort with a simple flash of green which had started it all 25 years ago. Harry had not cried for his death. He had not been sick, nor had he laughed or been thankful. Instead he was numb. Everyone that he had cared for was now buried in the muddy earth. At least Harry had Luna. Or, he thought he had Luna. After snapping Voldemort's wand, he had searched the battlefield for her. He had found her but not in the condition he would have liked to find her. Underneath a pile of bodies, Harry had spotted a lock of blonde hair, and slowly uncovered his last friend. Harry had silently, wept dry tears for her on his own. He had no more tears left to give and there was no one left to grieve for Luna Lovegood, loyal friend till the end. There was no one left at all.

Harry sits on his bench and feeds his pigeons. He does not know why he feeds them; perhaps they give him company, something that he has not experienced for years. He weeps for his friends and for his family but now that the tears have come, Harry finds that he can not stop them. He spends days at a time remembering each person that he knew who died in the war, has done so for many years. Standing up, he tries to think of who made it. But Harry cannot think of anyone still alive and so he wipes his cheeks before hurrying home. Later, as he is drifting off in his bed, his eyes snap open and he sits up. Bill. Bill and his little girl made it through. Snuggling back under his blanket, Harry promises that he will try and find them one day, he will see if Fleur's mini mirror image still looks like her mother and what Bill called her in the end. He smiles, glad that someone managed to escape in the end.