For the first time in his memory, the Great hall is silent.
A shred of scarlet and gold fabric still clings high on the wall, flapping in the slight breeze.
His footsteps might echo, if he weren't little more than a shade, an essence, a remnant of a human being clinging to the earth for just a little longer. His body is far from here by now, maybe even encased in white satin and pine, gently covered by soil, ready to return to the earth from whence it came.
He strolls silently through the Hall, taking in one last time the place where he spent the best years of his life. Where he learned to hold his head up, and to speak above a whisper. Where he'd found the acceptance he'd yearned for all his life.
If he closes his eyes, he can almost hear strains of childish laughter, the pounding of footsteps. Drunk, they were, on freedom, innocent of all that went on beyond these walls. Of what the future would hold. Whether they fought on the side of good, or of evil, they were unknowing pawns in a game began long before their birth, a game that would carry on long after they were accepted back into the earth's tender embrace.
He opens his eyes again, casting a long look over his shoulder before crossing the threshold. The flagstones of the Entrance Hall are stained with blood and scorch marks. The roof is partially ripped away, and he can see patches of velvet sky, a few twinkling stars. Under his feet, the green emeralds of Slytherin and the red rubies of Gryffindor mix in a beautiful collage, the great hourglasses smashed in the heat of battle.
Hogwarts will continue on, he is sure. A new generation will scrub away the blood and burn marks, rebuild walls and roofs, repair portraits. But, more importantly, they will mend the broken bonds of friendship and brotherhood, bring together wizard kind with a new understanding, take the lessons their parents learned too late, and use them to ensure such a tragedy will not happen again.
He knows this is not something he will see. His chapter has ended, his time come and gone. Surprisingly, he feels no sadness, no regret. He has done his part, and now it's time to let others take over, carry on the work his generation started. What many gave their lives for.
Ahead, he can see glimmering silver shapes. They are waiting for him. In a way, they always have been. They welcome him with open arms. As if they are welcoming home. James, Sirius and Lily. And together, hands linked, they step beyond this world, into something infinitely better.