Me: I wrote this story for abnormalities's "I'm a Writer... Get Me Out of Here" Competition! It is called Aftershocks. It takes place right after the Final Battle in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
Despair laced around Harry as he looked out at the devastation.
The devastation of the only place he could ever call home.
The proud velvet drapes that usually hung in the windows had been diminished to shreds; the few still intact, tattered and filled with gaping holes. Some were covered with layers of grime and dust.
The walls had been destroyed almost completely; leaving piles of rubble and ash strewn about. Some walls had buried bodies. The bodies of people who didn't deserve to die.
Harry's breath caught in his throat, and tears welled in his eyes, as his gaze fell across the unmoving body of Colin Creevy, under a mountain of rubble. He'd been much too young to die. And it was all because of Harry.
Harry forced himself to avert his eyes and continue walking.
"Harry?" came the small voice. "Is it really you?"
Harry whirled around. Relief flooded inside of him and tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Yes, Colin," he whispered. "It's me."
Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope.