This is supposed to be from Harry's POV. It is at the end of a drawn out war, the last battle ends in victory but at the cost of a huge percentage of the Wizard World.

Phyrric- a victory with devastating cost to the victor.

The armies separated; and, it is said, Pyrrhus replied to one that gave him joy of his victory that one more such victory would utterly undo him. For he had lost a great part of the forces he brought with him, and almost all his particular friends and principal commanders

It was over...

We had won, but looking across the plain, all I see is Death. A pyrrhic victory if ever there was one.

Bodies lying where they had fallen, life's essences pooled around them as they lay. Even worse were those that looked as if they just slept. Victims to that feared flash of green light.

Haggard faces of survivors, drawn and pale, wander aimlessly. Like walking dead themselves. Some, periodically recognizing one of the many fallen. Crying out at the fate of Brother, Father, Mother, Sister, Lover, Friend. Less frequently, two survivors would cross paths, tears of relief running in stark damp tracks down dirty faces, relief that someone (anyone) they knew had survived the wholesale slaughter.

Mediwitches in mostly white (white stained red) bustling about in hopes of keeping the living alive.

Even the animals were lost. Not a bird in sight. The Forbidden Forest silent.

Ron, relatively unscathed (read here not dying or bleeding profusely) made his way to my position. Moving slowly so as not to reopen fresh bandaged hurts.

He stood with me for a moment, looking out at the devastation surrounding us. Silent, contemplating the view or his own personal demons. I could see him tracking his wife, the final member of our trio, with his eyes as she assisted in healing, finding survivors. And then he spoke to me, just two words.

"What now?"

What now. Where do we go from here. How do we move from this?

We won; Voldemort was dead at last, but at such a high cost. Too high.

And for a brief moment I could not reply.

And then, from the corner of my eye, there was a flash of color. Unexpected and out of place.

Here, in all of this Black and Grey and Red (so much red). Here a spark of green.

The color of Life in all of this Death.

Without answering I walked toward it, Ron silently following. I walked and I knelt and carefully, so carefully, I uncovered a tiny, untouched patch of clover. Just a small spot that had miraculously survived all the violence of ignorant feet and falling bodies.

I knelt there and I looked up at him, my best friend, my first friend.

And as I spoke, a breeze blew up; it blew and brought the sweet scent of fresh air and green, growing, Living things.

And I spoke to him and I said,

"We mourn, we heal, and then, then we Live. But we never forget. What else do you think we all fought so hard for?"

I looked up at the blue skies as the new wind pushed the clouds away and, for the first time in a very long time, I allowed myself to hope.

"We Live."

Thanks for reading XD

Critiques are welcomed always

Much Love 3

Yoru out