I don't own Harry Potter, all rights to J.K. Rowling. She is the awesome creator and I am an obsessed fan. Tell me if you would like a longer version that carries out for few days to even years after the battle. I will write another if you all would enjoy that. Thanks. (Sorry for spelling/grammar mistakes)
A faint gasp ran through Hogwarts, followed by a loud echo of silence. Complete silence engulfed the school like a rainstorm. Professor McGonagall stood in the archway to one of the many doors leading into the cataclysmic courtyard. A new light shone through ever crack, hole and open door in the castle. For a moment, everyone was lost in the overwhelming feeling of joy that washed over them. The war was won. But, it was won at a terrible price. Many died, many more injured, and all were scarred. If not scarred physically, then it was emotionally. The one who faced the most torment was Harry. He kneeled to the hard stone and gazed at the spot in which Voldemort had vanished.
"He's gone. He's really gone." Harry said out loud to himself. He looked up at the sky and began sobbing. Sobbing of happiness, that life could finally be peaceful; sobbing because he didn't want fame; but mainly for the pain that those around him went through. He felt responsible for all the death. He cried for Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Colin, their families and friends and everyone. Knowing he must face what is next. He wiped his tears and stood up. He glanced at the devestation, but didn't take it all in. He walked to the Great hall where the majority of the warriors were. He sat down on a bench as close to the door as possible. He looked over to his family, the Weasley's. He felt that Fred's death was his fault. Many months before, he felt guilty for the death of Moody, and almost death of George on the journey from Private Drive, to The Burrow. He knew that they had every right to disown him. Not being able to take the stares, he got up and walked back outside. He couldn't bear to see the devastation. He couldn't bear to look at this amazing place that was his home reduced to piles of stone and debris. He heard footsteps from behind him.
"Hey mate." Ron said. He was sad. It was obvious. He lost his brother. He lost a lot. He lost his teenage years because of Harry. Or at least that's what Harry thought. Hermione gave Harry a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and they walked towards the stone bridge in front of the courtyard. The walls had crumbled and fallen down over the deep valley beneath. Harry then pulled something out from his pant pocket. It was the Elder Wand.
"It's mine." He said.
"This makes you the most powerful wizard in the world." Ron added.
"I know." Harry said as he looked over the valley. He looked down at the wand and snapped it in two. No one should have that power, he thought to himself. He chucked the pieces as far as he could.
"What happens now?" Harry asked.
"I don't know. I really don't know." Hermione added. Though all three knew the answer, none of them wanted to say it. They all knew that they would have to face the demons they dueled eventually. They might as well start now. But not wanting to see the destruction, or bodies that lay on the ground, the trio stood facing the valley. It was midday, a little after noon. Ron and Hermione walked up to where Harry stood. They grabbed each other's hands, looking out into the distance. None of them said a thing. They didn't have to. The silence was all they needed. No one screaming in pain, no one begging for mercy. No sounds of dueling or apparrating. For a moment, it was like nothing had happened. For a moment, they were normal. Hermione leaned into Ron's chest, held Harry's hand, scared to let go. None of them wanted to let go. They stood, the three friends, pondering the future, wishing they could change the past. By the castle, McGonagall stood. She watched them, proud, but her heart ached for what they felt. For a moment, they could breath again, because even though it didn't seem like it on the surface, deep down, each of them knew that in the end, everything would be alright. The memories wouldn't leave, but they could become stronger from them. For now, they could breath and hold each other.
