'It's finally finished,' Harry thought, as he heard Voldemort's fall.
The final spell he used smoldered into nothingness, as the blinding light finally stopped, and smoke filled the landscape.
Finally, there was silence as the sounds of curses suddenly stopped. There was no sparks, no explosions and no green light. Nothing. It was as if the world slept, as Harry finally stood up to look at the aftermath.
The smoke seemed to clear as he finally walked, and witnessed the effects of the spell he used to defeat Voldemort. The air was still silent, as vultures could be seen flying overhead. Naturally, Harry was confused.
By now, he expected celebration. A cry of victory. A salutation to Voldemort's defeat, if nothing else. However, there was nothing. Then, there was a cry, as Harry quickly looked up. His eyes widened in amazement, as he saw a familiar phoenix gracefully land on a broken pillar, before it started to weep.
Its tears seemed to clear the mist, as Harry started to see his surrounding better. His legs started to buckle as he witnessed the surroundings. He could not even bring himself to shed a tear, as he looked around in the ruined Great Hall.
"Hermione? Ron? GUYS?!" Harry shouted, as he tried to settle his buckling legs.
There was certainly Voldemort's blackened, and mutilated body. However, there was nothing else, aside from a pile of dust, and the charred walls Great Hall itself. His friends weren't there, and neither were the Death Eaters. Just Harry, a pile of ashes creating a mist in the air, and the mutilated body of Voldemort.
Other than that, it was silent. Harry bent towards the floor, as he grabbed a fistful of ashes. A burning feeling settled in his heart as he did so, as he started to blame himself for this disaster.
'NO! They are not... Not dead. They are merely lost.. They are merely lost. LOST! Lost... And dead... no...'
The boy tried to accept that they were merely lost, but knew that it wasn't true. Somewhere deep in his heart, Harry knew this, but couldn't accept it. After all, it was him who cast the curse. He would tell them that he was sorry - that he never meant this, but he couldn't. After all, he couldn't reach them. They were in a different place anyway.
Taking his wand, Harry prepared to send himself away, where no one was. He was sick of the silence, and he wanted to leave to somewhere else. Somewhere he could at least meet his friends. After all, they were only lost. There were no screams, or death. The curse Harry used just sent them away somewhere. Perhaps it was a better place. Perhaps, it was only darkness. Either way, Harry was going to search for his friends, no matter what. He walked towards the door, as the silence seemed to deepen the pain in his chest.
Harry could only think somberly, 'What's the point of being the Boy Who Lived if I'm the only one living?'
He whispered the spell, as he struck with his wand. The silence seemed to deepen, as the sounds of the world started to fade. A feeling of sheer horror started to seed in his cold heart. Suddenly, white light seemed to fill his vision, as he saw his friends waving towards him from a distance. There was no silence anymore, just a slow haunting song that seemed to pervade the air, and the faint, oh so faint, calls of his friends towards him.
Though they were fading, Harry still walked towards it. After all, the haunting song was still continuing, and though the calls were getting fainter, it was still there. It was something to follow, something to hope on. Perhaps, it was something to mask his broken heart. Perhaps, it was to comfort his guilt. Perhaps.
What he certainly knew though, was the fact that it was better than the silence.
I hope you enjoyed, and do tell me what you think.