Hey, this is actually my first Harry Potter fanfic so I feel weird after writing so much Percy Jackson. Btw I found this on my computer from months ago and I thought y'all Potterheads might appreciate a quick little fic ;)
(disclaimer) SORRY IF IT SUCKS, IM NOT JK ROWLING
-hello, I'm a line break-
The battle was over. Voldemort was gone. Harry had nothing to worry about anymore. Right?
After a long sleep, and a lot of shaking and persuasion from Hermione, Harry left the Gryffindor dormitories, and headed down to the great hall to face all those people. The faces of those who had lost loved ones, seen things that a regular person would hope never to see, and the faces who looked at Harry like he was some hero.
He hated that. It was his fault all of those people were dead. They had risked their lives for his sake, yet they still treated him as if he had really done something. As if it weren't his fault.
He didn't want to face them but, he knew Hermione would just go off into one of her long scoldings again. At least one thing was the same. At least his friends hadn't changed.
Harry brought up his hand to the huge wooden door to the great hall. The door that for six years he had walked through. He pushed on the cold metal handle and opened the door. Immediately all eyes were on him. He had expected this, and you would think that after all those years of being the "Boy-who-lived" the "Chosen one" he would have gotten used to the spotlight. But he wasn't.
For a minute, he awkwardly stood there, all eyes on him. Then, suddenly out of the corner of his eyes at the Gryffindor table, he spotted fiery red hair. He walked over to the Weasleys and immediately felt a tug of guilt in his heart as he realized there was one missing. Fred.
He spotted Ron and Hermione and noticed that like the other Weasleys, their food the Hogwarts house elves had made was barely touched.
Mr. Weasley was the first one to notice him as he looked up. "Oh, Harry, sit down my boy," he said, as he managed a weak smile. Harry took a seat but just stayed silent. Molly, though still mourning the death of her child, looked up. Harry could tell she had been crying just by looking at her puffy red eyes. "Harry! Are you okay?" Even if he didn't mean it Harry managed an, "I'm fine, thank you."
Not wanting to look at any of the Weasleys faces, knowing he would just feel another rush of guilt, Harry kept his eyes on the bowl of porridge he knew he wouldn't be eating.
Flashes of all the dead body's went through his mind. Many people like Collin Creevey, Lavender Brow, Dobby, and Tonks and Remus. The poor couple who had only had their son a such a short time ago. This made Harry think about how he was raised. A mistreated orphan, always thinking of what his parents were like. Not to mention only having those few, short years with his godfather. No, Harry wasn't going to let Teddy bare the burden of a life like his, he was going to give his godson a proper life. He was going to move on from the grief, pain, and suffering from the past. He, Harry James Potter, was going to raise his godson as his own.