This is actually the last chapter I've written. The rest is in progress.
Looking around, Cecil was filled with sadness from everything in the last four hours. Suddenly, his legs gave out, and he grabbed the nearest table to support himself. The overwhelming fatigue that had engulfed him was showing, he had to sit down with his head in his hands to feel better. Suddenly he felt a slight weight come to rest on his shoulder. "You alright?" Cecil turned, and found his friend, Joy. "I just got back. About a couple of hours ago, really."
"Where have you been?" Cecil asked, curious. "I mean, I know you weren't at school, so I was really worried they got to you."
"I've been running, mostly." Joy swished her hair out of her eyes, the scarf she wore was pulled loosely around her neck, the red and gold color bright against the grey of rubble. "You?"
"I've been fine, getting beaten around by the Carrows, and most of these bruises, cuts, and gashes aren't really from the battle at all. You should see Seamus Finnigan, hes got the worst of it. There's one on hi-"
But Joy never found out where the injury inflicted from the torture caused by the Carrows. For Lord Voldemort's voice had just rung throughout the hall.
Harry Potter was dead.