Smoke filled up the once ever glorious castle of Hogwarts. Now it has turned from the Ritz to the rubble. The damage was already made, so much magic was used and exerted.

Death is in the air. You can just feel it in your skin, staying and sinking to your bones. Silence can be (almost) heard. People can be seen mourning for their dead loved ones, yet it is such a big relief that it has finally come to an end; the war has finally come to an end. The end for this chapter, and definitely an opening to a new. And to think, just hours ago, hope was the only thing that people were holding on to. It was the only thing that kept them going. The darkness was too much; enveloping the castle and the people heartily.

The wind blew eerily to a raven-haired boy. What is his name, you say? The boy-who-lived. The Chosen One. The One Who Defeated the infamous Lord Voldemort. And the one who accepted and conquered death two times.

The great Harry Potter looked at the Great Hall, where people were trying hard to help each other, with his weary eyes and sighed. His mind is still sound but it does not just seem to process anything at all. It only enables him to stare in to random things and people and not really registering anything – not knowing what to do and how to help.

Silence.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could feel the cold wind caressing his hair and filling his lungs. The silence yet the noise tempting to bring him to a deep slumber…

"Harry!"

The silence was broken, Harry reflexively drew out his wand from his back pocket and pointed to the person who screamed his name – but quickly lowered and kept it when he saw the fuzzed red-haired woman, Mrs. Weasley.

"Come here, Harry." Mrs. Weasley sniffed, opening her arms for him. Harry just obliged and followed his instinct and went to hug Mrs. Weasley. The hug was warm and motherly and Harry was not about to complain. Mrs. Weasley is the closest thing Harry has for a mother and he is dearly thankful for it.

"Harry, dear." She let go of the tight hug and held Harry's face in her hands tenderly, "You've done such a great thing. Now, go clean yourself up and you deserve a night's rest."

Harry was staring into Mrs. Weasley's beady brown eyes, not knowing where the nostalgia came from but he noticed the look he knows too well. This was the look Ron got a Prefect's Badge in their fifth year; the look that he saw Mrs. Weasley had when entering the Fred and George's joke shop for the first time; this was the look given to her children when they give her pride to be their mother.

Mrs. Weasley was proud of him.

Harry could not help but embrace her again, tightly and whisper a sincere 'thank you' before stalking out of the Great Hall. He did not know where he was going until he ended up on the fifth floor, but still he kept on walking and did not plan to go anywhere at all. Then, he ended up facing the portrait of the Fat Lady. Ironic it may seem; the Fat Lady was nowhere to be seen near her portrait. He was about to push through the portrait and ready to be greeted by the thought of the nostalgic feeling of the common room; but then last minute - thought otherwise. Harry just let his feet take him elsewhere and again, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. Until, he noticed that he was already placed heartily by the lake.

Harry sat by the lake, looking through its calm yet mysterious dark water which sparkled amazingly because of the moonlight; as if there was no war that happened. Stars dotted the whole black sky just there twinkling majestically; as if no lives were taken and sacrificed courageously. As if the lake and the stars too were celebrating. Harry smiled, mere days, hours or even minutes ago he did not dare think that he would ever see these things ever again; he thought that he would never see simplicity at its finest ever again. But now, he sat there – taking the beauty one breath at a time. Now, he has the courage to dream again. Now, Harry has a future.

No.

I can't smile and think happily. He thought as his face grimaced. We lost so much. Everyone lost someone at least. They are still mourning Harry looked down not knowing what to think. He suddenly felt empty, numb, and cold. The war has ended but it definitely cost them a lot. Many died fighting.

Just as Harry was staring off into space and letting the thoughts of sadness and despair take him through. A warm presence sat beside him and took his hand and intertwined it with a small warm hand, while the thumb caresses his cold hand. He was taken aback by the presence but did not let go of the hand that was emanating so much comfort and care. Deciding that he has had enough of the water and the stars, he turned to look at the presence that came. There, at that moment, Harry Potter's heart stopped.