A New Darkness
(Harry's POV)
The war is over. I finally defeated Voldemort. The darkness that used to live in me has gone with him. It's a strange feeling. I died and yet here I am walking through the castle, stepping over ruble and bodies of wounded or worse.
We've won but there is no celebration. There are still tears, sweat, and blood. Was it worth all of this? Fred, Lupin, Tonks…everyone. They're gone because I was "strong", "brave", "heroic" enough to bring on this war. No, they died trying. That's better than laying down to die…isn't it? Then again, isn't that what I did? I walked into the Forbidden Forest and let him kill me. Lucky thing though. He never would have died if I hadn't.
Harry walked through the halls not taking in anything he was seeing. Just walking, breathing. Trying to comprehend everything that had happened since Neville had brought him and his closest friends through the secret passage to the room of requirement. His feet lead him aimlessly up to the Gryffindor common room. How long had it been since he'd seen the lush crimson room?
He sat in one of the many empty chairs in front of the fire. He stared at the burning embers till tears stung his eyes. He removed his glasses and stared across the blurred room. He was so tired but he needed to move. He needed to run, to scream, to break something. He had not come down from the heat of battle. He didn't know where to go, what to do, or how to deal with himself.
Suddenly a fiery red blob emerged from the haze. It shrank as Ginny began to take shape before his eyes. He couldn't make out her face… or anything really, but he knew that shade of red had to belong to a Weasley and last time he checked none of the brothers had a somewhat hourglass-shaped figure.
He pushed his glasses back on his face and took in the sight in front of him. Ginny was just sitting down in the chair across from him. Her scarlet curls were messy and her chocolate eyes were red and teary. Her cheeks were tear-stained and the left was bruising. Her bare arms bore scratches that would possibly scar. Her shirt was dirty and torn. It hung loosely over her small frame. Harry's eyes continued down her long legs; her jeans were ripped in various places.
They sat in silence staring at each other. Harry watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed heavily trying to hold back tears. He couldn't stand seeing her like this. She was broken mentally, physically, and emotionally. She'd lost her brother and his mind kept wandering beneath her shirt and other articles of clothing.
Disgusted with himself he stood and wandered aimlessly around the cozy room. It seemed to mock him. It was so warm and inviting, full of happy memories. Harry jumped a little when her hand touched his shoulder. He hadn't even heard her get out of her arm chair. She kissed the tender skin between his neck and shoulder. He couldn't help the shiver that ran through his body.
She walked around to face him and placed her dainty hands on his chest. His heart hammered underneath her palm as she raised herself to kiss his lips. It was a long, sweet kiss. He could feel her pouring her heart into it. He watched her slowly shrink back to her heels with confusion in her eyes. He knew what she would see on his face, just the blank emptiness that was consuming him slowly. He watched as tears leaked out of her warm eyes and turned on her heel and retreated up the stairs. He watched her bum as it swayed when she practically ran from him. Something deep within him stirred.