The Close?
You may have noticed how I don't tend to do chaptered fiction that is because this is more fun and less pressured.
This is set after the final chapter of Deathly Hallows.
Oh, and these are not mine, much as I would love them to be.
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"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."
Harry led his friends back down the spiral staircase, over the remains of the broken gargoyle and started on the long trek back to their common room. He felt an odd sense of longing towards the place he called home for six years, but knew that it was time to move on. Harry knew that when asked, he would not be coming back to Hogwarts. Fighting the greatest dark wizard of the century tended to force a boy to grow up a lot quicker than normal. He threw a glance over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione, walking along behind him, in step, together. In spite of the chaos and hurt of the last few hours, he smiled.
Hope.
And the knowledge that something pure had sprung from the shattered ruins of the night.
Love.
Tom Riddle would never have understood, and that was his ultimate downfall.
Dust and dirt still gave the air an acrid smell. It was the smell of death that sullied the corridors and the classrooms. Broken pieces of armour littered the floor sporadically; glass shattered into a hundred pieces glinted with the first streams of sunlight for the day. Doors hung clumsily off their frames and the portraits and paintings were slowly becoming reacquainted with their subjects.
The Fat Lady of Gryffindor Tower was talking animatedly with her friend Violet when Harry, Ron and Hermione reached her portrait. "Ooh, where have you been?" she shrilled "Caused quite a panic you did Mr Potter when you disappeared." Her portrait swung open as a rather stern faced Mrs Weasley flew out of the entrance.
"Harry, thank the heavens your all right" she swept him up into hug "What on earth were you thinking disappearing like that? We were all so worried, there are still Death Eaters at large and you will do well to remember that"
"Yes, Mrs Weasley, I'm sorry but..." He couldn't quite find the words to say to her. She had lost her son, one of her twins and she was still taking care of him like he was one of her own. He stuttered into awkward silence.
"Well, not to worry now. Come on let's get you all in and settled" she bustled them into the Common Room, taking the seats around the burning fire place. "Now, I can give you all a Dreamless Sleep Draught" She fussed protectively around them, fluffing the cushions around them. "Harry, Ron you'll be in your old room and Hermione you'll be in yours."
Hermione nodded not glancing up, but Ron spoke. "Mum" he said softly.
Mrs Weasley continued trying not to hear her sons concern. "We can get some food sent up from the kitchens as well if you like..."
"Mum," he said again, standing and moving in front of his mother. His tall gangly frame towered over her short stout figure and it took just a few moments for her to lose her composure, her face crumpled in grief. He opened his arms and she fell willingly into his embrace, sobbing into his shoulder.
"Why," she repeated over and over again "Why Fred, why now?"
"Where are you sleeping Mum?" Ron asked thickly, barely containing his own pain.
"Minerva," she sniffed "will be sorting out some t, tents for the lawn. The students will sleep in their dorms the rest of us will be outside." She broke down again, unable to do more than pour ever ounce of emotion out into the arms of her youngest son.
Harry felt a surge of guilt as he sat there, feeling unable to do anything. This was his fault; if he had of given himself up early maybe things would have been different. Maybe Fred would not have had to die so needlessly. His feet moved before he realised, carrying him upstairs in a haze, his friends' calls ringing numbly behind him.
He slammed the door behind him, taking several deep breaths to try and steady him. Glancing around the room, the five beds were perfectly made, like they had just been made that morning, yet they still felt cold. There were no posters on the walls, no Chudley Cannons banners strewn across the hangings, no dirty laundry littering the floor. He missed this place dearly over the last year. A fiery red sky illuminated the room as footsteps filled the Common Room below. Students were returning to their beds, some returning quicker than others. Harry heard footsteps and laughter, he heard crying too. The sound wrenched at his heart strings. Unable to listen to more he pulled the dirty clothes off his aching limbs and climbed under the soft clean linens of his bed, scrambling the curtains shut behind him.
The door clattered open as Seamus and Dean barged in laughing and joking as they got ready for bed. Harry listened to them whisper about the closed drapes around his bed, listened to them greet Neville like the conquering hero and listened as, after many long minutes they all fell into deep, rhythmic, blissful sleep.
Harry tossed under the covers for an hour or more but he could not find sleep. His body yearned for rest but his mind raced. Images of Lupin, Tonks, Fred and Colins dead bodies swam around him when he closed his eyes. Pulling his t-shirt and jeans back on, he padded back down to the Common Room, hoping it to be empty but was surprised to see the mop of red hair gazing absently into the dying embers of the fire. The sky was now a crisp early morning blue, with soft strands of light creeping through the long windows. Harry flopped down on the floor next to his best friend and they simply sat there in companionable silence.
"It's over mate," Ron said "It's finally over."
"Yeah, it is" Harry replied "But look at what we lost because of it" he finished bitterly
Ron turned and looked at his friend, a crease of annoyance and concern stretched across his brow "Don't be thick," he said "If you hadn't have done that tonight than he would have wiped us all out"
"But Freds dead" Harry spoke quickly, not wanting the words to be true
Ron faced the fire again, "He would have fought anyway," he muttered "We all chose to fight Harry, he," He paused gathering himself together "Fred chose to fight."
"That still doesn't make it right" Harry spat
"No, not really" Ron conceded
They fell into silence once more, the last ounce of warmth from the fire a hollow gesture now. Soft footsteps moved behind them and Hermione took a seat on the floor next to Ron, slipping her arm underneath his.
And still they remained silent.
The early morning sun was bright now as the birds sang their dawn chorus, ready for the start of a new day. And still Harry could not feel happy; in fact he found it difficult to feel anything at all. He could see Hermione looking at him, trying to read his expression. He gave her a weak smile that she gladly returned before talking "Look at us, we've just fought in the most important wizarding war of our time, have been awake for over a day and we still can't sleep"
"I'm so tired" Harry admitted "But there is still a hell of a lot to do"
"So where do we start?"
Harry looked at her properly now. Her eyes were red rimmed and her face stained with blood and dirt. Her hair was a mess, sticking out of the pony tail it was pulled into; but there a fierce determination behind the fatigue, a desire to do more. And this told him that nothing more could be done today.
"We need to get some rest" he admitted. "Everything else can wait, for now," He felt he was unable to fight anymore. His eyes were finally getting heavier and the lure of a few moments rest after what seemed like years of constant fighting was intoxicating. He pushed up off the floor and offered a hand to Ron, who hesitated slightly before taking it. Harry pulled Ron into a brotherly hug, offering him some comfort. Harry extended his arms for Hermione, who gladly took her place in her friends' shelter.
They broke apart and started heading towards their respective rooms. At the top of the stairs Hermione turned to Ron and asked "Do you want me to stay with you?"
"I'll be fine" Ron mumbled. Unconvinced by this statement but not wanting to push him, Hermione nodded and climbed the stairs to the girls dormitory. Harry once again climbed onto his own bed once back in his room but this time he felt himself relax into the covers. Placing his glasses carefully on the nightstand, he took a quick glance at Ron, who had finally succumbed to the pleasure of sleep. There was still a lot to do, but for now Harry was just Harry, and the world could wait just a little while longer for anything else.
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Tauri888
