Living Martyr, Quidditch Star
The celebration had lasted long into the early morning hours, yet eventually most of the revelers had succumbed to exhaustion and turned in for the night to sleep it off. A certain messy-haired, emerald-eyed, 17-year-old man wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon. Alone, he was on the beach, lying on the sand and staring up at the incredible blanket of stars, listening to the small waves brush the shore, and silently crying.
"Lumos... lumos... lumos," whispered Harry, the wand movements were perfect, the incantation pronounced flawlessly, yet no light came.
"Harry," startled, he quickly sat up, wiping his eyes with the back of his bandaged arm.
"Hello Hermione," he said with a weak smile.
"May I sit?" she said softly.
"Of course," said Harry, indicating the sand next to him, "Pull up some sand."
"I'm not going to even bother asking if you're ok, because I know you aren't," she said simply.
"Well of course I'm not!" his voice was angry now, "I'm !#$ing useless now, I'm like a squib now or something, I don't even know. I've been a weapon for years now, and now that I've finished the job, I end up like I'm a muggle or something!"
"I thought you got over your self-pity stage years ago Harry," he looked at her with an expression of shock and anger at the verbal affront, "You're acting like this is the end of the world or something. Yes... it's a most terrible fate, you can't do magic anymore, but you're alive, and you've canceled out the power of the most evil dark wizard in centuries. Are you saying you'd rather be dead? Because I wouldn't," choked Hermione.
"How noble of you! You'd rather I be a living martyr than a dead one huh? Well I wouldn't, I can't do what I'm best at, what I live for, I fought with everything I had so I could kill that bastard and live my life in peace, maybe learn what it's like to have a normal life in the wizarding world, and now what? I can't do anything? What am I going to do? Can't be an Auror, can't do magic, can't teach magic either, can't play... wait a sec..." He choked on his words. His facial expression changed from one of utter hopelessness to maniacal glee, he began to laugh uncontrollably.
Leaping to his feet, Harry pulled a confused Hermione to her feet and began to spin her around in a crazed dance, laughing the whole while.
"What the heck is into you?" she shrieked, wondering if she should be laughing in joy or putting Harry into St. Mungos post haste.
"You're a genius as always! I'm such a !#$ idiot!" he screamed at the stars, "I can't believe I didn't think of it earlier, but you made me think of it and you didn't even realize it!"
Grabbing Harry's shoulders in a tight grip she forced him to look at her, she spoke slowly, "What... are... you... talking... about?"
"QUIDDITCH! I don't need magic to play it! I can be the first squib to play professionally or something!" he laughed, then kissed her firmly on the mouth and skipped down the beach laughing all the way.
Smirking, Hermione chased after him.