Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
The word seemed to echo around in Harry's head. So many people gone. His parents. Remus. Sirius. Tonks. Mad-eye. Fred. Colin. God, even Hedwig.
His head whirled with thoughts and possibilities and oh God, he didn't even know. He gagged and leaned his head against the cool stone of Hogwarts. His eyes burned, and he swallowed convulsively. Wondering why he wasn't throwing up.
Belatedly, he realized it was because he hadn't eaten anything in two days. For fuck's sake he hadn't eaten a hot meal since they left Bill and Fleur's. And even then, cooking was nothing to brag about.
And he had done it. How the bloody hell had he done it? Dying and ultimatums and red eyes sprang up behind his closed lids.
He opened his eyes. Where was he? Who was he? Oh my god, who was he? Without Voldemort, without…this time he did throw up. What it was, he couldn't begin to imagine. Blood, maybe. He just wanted to sleep. To sleep and to never dream. God only knows what would be in his nightmares now. His knees began to shake.
He sank slowly down to the floor, the coolness of the wall behind him slightly calming him. But not enough.
So many people dead. So many sacrifices. Remus' son, orphaned. But not family-less, Harry would make sure of that. Through his half-closed lids, he could make out two familiar heads now. He knew they wouldn't sit up in Dumbledore's office forever, but he really wished they would leave him alone.
His head spun, and his breath came out in shallow pants. He thought he heard his name being called frantically, but darkness was swallowing his vision. Before he fell, a streak of red flashed in front of his eyes.
His head was suddenly clear and he could hear the conversation now.
"I've got him, you two," she whispered.
The red and brown shifted and hesitated.
"Seriously, go," she said, more firm this time. Harry felt something change, something lock into place. But, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that it was only her now.
She crouched down and stroked his face, his hair.
"Oh Harry," she gasped. He couldn't remember if he had ever seen her cry, maybe once. But that was many years ago.
Harry's eyes slowly opened once more, and all he could see was red. She was crying, her face in his shirt. He slowly rubbed her back, finding the motion calming.
"I love you," he told her. She paused, even her sobs ceased.
"You don't know how long, I have been waiting to hear that," she said quietly. "I love you too, Harry. More than anything."
Harry slowly came back down, the blackness in his vision receded, his breathing evened out, and his heartbeat was in time with the motion of his hand on her back. He could do it, with her help. He could find himself, through her.
Ginny.
