Prologue
All across the land, they celebrated.
The news had spread quickly. Before they had time to react to the events that had occurred they were informed that it was over. That everything was going to be fine. Voldemort was dead and the Wizarding World was rejoicing in the event. The Second War was over and the dark power that threatened them all was defeated..
As the sun began to set on that glorious day, the people came together. They laughed, they danced, and they gathered together to feel the joy and happiness at the falling of a great evil. They were happy.
XXX
A dark pall hung over the grounds of Hogwarts. A tomb like silence of mourning and grief so thick that it seeped into every opening and snuffed out the joy and the happiness that flared briefly in the hearts of those few that survived.
There was silence so heavy that it was deafening, but in one place there was screaming. A painful mourning cry that chilled the spines and broke the hearts of all those that heard it. A wail of pain and loss that was so strong that it seemed to radiate like a cold wind, it fluttered the torches and chilled the bone. It echoed down the bloodstained halls, through the ruined buildings, and out across the shattered landscape.
Harry Potter lay shuddering on the only occupied bed in the Hospital Wing. The hospital had been filled to capacity earlier, but those that could, left, and those that were too injured were taken out. No one could witness the utter desolation that was the man who had killed the Dark Lord. No one could stand to see the pain and loss that racked his body stronger than any Cruciatus Curse.
Only one person remained with him. Only one person sat at his side and gripped the death white hands and tried to comfort the burning fevers, the icy chills, the ruined flesh, and the broken soul. Like a shipwreck survivor she clung to his side, holding on tightly and trying to weather the storm of pain.
Ginny Weasley sat at his side. Her pale face haggard and drawn, eyes red and burning, and a deep aching hole inside her heart. She stayed by his side, out of friendship, out of love, and out of desperation.
Most of all she stayed at his side for he was the only one left.
He was the only one that survived.
Grief hit Ginny and she bore the pain, bowing under the weight and battered by her own losses. She gripped tightly to Harry's death cold hands and rocked with dry heaving sobs. The tears were all gone, all shed for those that had not come back, those that had given their lives to fight off the terrible darkness.
An entire generation of witches and wizards. Gone.
People she had known and loved only days before. Gone.
The best, the strongest, the smartest, the bravest, the kindest. Friends. Family. They were all gone.
Their names rolled through her mind like a sick list of all those that she loved and all those that she cared for. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to hold back the wave of emotion that threatened to engulf her and carry her away as it had with Harry. She fought against it and she gripped her last link of sanity.
She stared at his scarred face, at his open unseeing eyes, and she envied him. She envied his pain and his misery. He could mourn, he could sob for his loss. He had let go and he swirled down the flooding river of his pain.
She had to be strong. She had to be strong enough to carry the both of them. She had to be strong enough to bring him back from the precipice that he stood upon, an edge that bordered the veil of death.
She hated her selfishness. She could not let him go. She could not let him let go. She hated that she was forcing him to live with the misery of his loss. She hated herself for loving him too much to let him die. To be at peace and to know no more pain. She hated herself for not wanting to be alone. She hated herself and she hoped that he could forgive her, because she didn't know if she could forgive herself.
"I won't let you go, Harry. I won't let you die. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
All across the land, they celebrated.
The news had spread quickly. Before they had time to react to the events that had occurred they were informed that it was over. That everything was going to be fine. Voldemort was dead and the Wizarding World was rejoicing in the event. The Second War was over and the dark power that threatened them all was defeated..
As the sun began to set on that glorious day, the people came together. They laughed, they danced, and they gathered together to feel the joy and happiness at the falling of a great evil. They were happy.
XXX
A dark pall hung over the grounds of Hogwarts. A tomb like silence of mourning and grief so thick that it seeped into every opening and snuffed out the joy and the happiness that flared briefly in the hearts of those few that survived.
There was silence so heavy that it was deafening, but in one place there was screaming. A painful mourning cry that chilled the spines and broke the hearts of all those that heard it. A wail of pain and loss that was so strong that it seemed to radiate like a cold wind, it fluttered the torches and chilled the bone. It echoed down the bloodstained halls, through the ruined buildings, and out across the shattered landscape.
Harry Potter lay shuddering on the only occupied bed in the Hospital Wing. The hospital had been filled to capacity earlier, but those that could, left, and those that were too injured were taken out. No one could witness the utter desolation that was the man who had killed the Dark Lord. No one could stand to see the pain and loss that racked his body stronger than any Cruciatus Curse.
Only one person remained with him. Only one person sat at his side and gripped the death white hands and tried to comfort the burning fevers, the icy chills, the ruined flesh, and the broken soul. Like a shipwreck survivor she clung to his side, holding on tightly and trying to weather the storm of pain.
Ginny Weasley sat at his side. Her pale face haggard and drawn, eyes red and burning, and a deep aching hole inside her heart. She stayed by his side, out of friendship, out of love, and out of desperation.
Most of all she stayed at his side for he was the only one left.
He was the only one that survived.
Grief hit Ginny and she bore the pain, bowing under the weight and battered by her own losses. She gripped tightly to Harry's death cold hands and rocked with dry heaving sobs. The tears were all gone, all shed for those that had not come back, those that had given their lives to fight off the terrible darkness.
An entire generation of witches and wizards. Gone.
People she had known and loved only days before. Gone.
The best, the strongest, the smartest, the bravest, the kindest. Friends. Family. They were all gone.
Their names rolled through her mind like a sick list of all those that she loved and all those that she cared for. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to hold back the wave of emotion that threatened to engulf her and carry her away as it had with Harry. She fought against it and she gripped her last link of sanity.
She stared at his scarred face, at his open unseeing eyes, and she envied him. She envied his pain and his misery. He could mourn, he could sob for his loss. He had let go and he swirled down the flooding river of his pain.
She had to be strong. She had to be strong enough to carry the both of them. She had to be strong enough to bring him back from the precipice that he stood upon, an edge that bordered the veil of death.
She hated her selfishness. She could not let him go. She could not let him let go. She hated that she was forcing him to live with the misery of his loss. She hated herself for loving him too much to let him die. To be at peace and to know no more pain. She hated herself for not wanting to be alone. She hated herself and she hoped that he could forgive her, because she didn't know if she could forgive herself.
"I won't let you go, Harry. I won't let you die. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."