She kept her head held high as she walked in, however she did not make eye contact with anyone. She looked beyond the people gathered in the Great Hall, above the bodies lying stretched out on the ground. She knew people were moving in front of her, her brain registered it, her eyes did as well, but she still did not step forward. She could depict chanting, healing spells being cast and she knew she should just shake everything off, gather herself or push all aside, go and help. She could help, she should have.

But she did not wish to look people in the face and have them staring back at her in horror. She was well aware how she came off, the state of her. On her way over people moved out of her way, some questioning looks being directed, some worried as well since they did not know if the blood on her was hers or someone else's.

A cry close by drew her attention, pulling her out of her apathy since she recognized the voices and the moment she put the names to the faces, she felt something inside her brain snap. Loud and vicious like the cries of Molly Weasley.

Despite having read so many books in all her years, Talia could not actually recall ever being a word in the English language for a parent losing its child. There was nothing in existence, at least to her knowledge, that could actually encompass such devastation and heart wrecking pain. And as Molly cried over the body of Fred, Talia closed her eyes, letting the darkness cloud everything inside of her, trying to push out any feelings that wanted to surface.

Someone placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes swinging open "Are you alright, do you need healing?" but Talia just shook her head at the stranger "Are you sure, you don't look alright."

Looking down at her body once more, she just nodded "It's not mine. It's not, I think." Sure she had a few cuts and scrapes, bruises surely "I can take it." She lifted her eyes once more "Am I needed?"

"Can you heal?" Talia only nodding to the question asked "Alright, go see McGonagall."

She searched the room, this time adamant on helping, eyes landing on Talbott as he rose to his feet, a hand lifting to cover his face, hiding behind it as he took a deep breath trying to calm down, however a sob broke through his chest, his entire body trembling. Walking slowly toward him, she stopped the moment she realized the reason behind his current state.

Swallowing thickly, Talia's vision blurred at the sight of Tonks and Remus's bodies. She felt sick to her stomach all of the sudden, as if that was the first time she saw someone actually being dead. It made absolutely no sense. They just started a family, Teddy was a baby, he was not even a month old by that point. He did not even have the ability to recognize his parents yet and now he suddenly lost both of them.

She felt cold, so, so cold, the hairs on her arms standing up as goosebumps formed on her flesh. Harry walked in her line of sight, his expression as desperate as hers and she saw his lips moving but the words did not reach her "What?" she asked, Harry repeating the words.

"I'm sorry. You were right."

She shook her head, approaching, Talbott finally realizing there were people so close to him "What are you on about?" she asked, Harry actually taking a step back.

"About professor Snape. There was a plan. I'm sorry I didn't know he was your godfather."

Her brows furrowed, Talia grabbing Harry by the shirt "Was?" the boy scrambled to explain in the few words he could utter something about Voldemort, about the Shrieking Shack. Trembling fingers unraveled from the fabric of his shirt, Harry uttering another apology before he left.

Strong arms pulled Talia in a tight embrace, Talbott just holding her close to him. Taking in a deep breath, Talia exhaled slowly, hot breath leaving her lips as her trembling subsided all at once. Her muscles tensed, hands pushing him away. Lifting her hands, she ran her fingers across his cheeks, wiping away the tears staying his skin, witnessing the confusion in his eyes "Talia?"

She felt the burning sensation in her veins, pumping through her entire body, a searing desperation taking over her mind "I need to go."

"You can't be serious, they're out there." His hands suddenly found their grip, trying to hold her back, however he could not hold onto her for long since it felt like her body temperature was rising with each second.

Prying herself away, she walked outside of the Great Hall without looking back, ignoring the voices calling out her name. She passed the courtyard, walking the length of the bridge, Death Eaters coming in view, some of them sharing confused looks between themselves.

It was suicide, there was no logic behind her actions.

"Move." Talia ordered, a few wands being drawn. Fire erupted on the surface of her skin, engulfing her, a beacon to be seen from the remainder of the castle walls "I need to see my father. You can either let me pass or I'll burn you all alive."

A voice further from within the sea of people was heard "Let her pass. They were given an hour after all and time is not yet over." And Talia recognized Constantine's voice in an instant. Slowly a small corridor was cleared, her fire not subsiding as she continued to walk, Death Eaters trying to not be too close to her. Constantine waited for her, a smile on his lips "Finally ready to join us my child?"

Grabbing his face in a swift move, she could feel his skin melting under her touch, his screams music to her ears. Letting him go, she looked in his eyes "Who are you? I said I wanted to see my father, you are not that person Constantine."

Apparating as soon as magic allowed her, she ran inside the Shrieking Shack, the floorboards wailing under her weight as she searched, finally finding Snape's lifeless body. Falling to her knees, she cradled him close to her chest, a scream breaking from her throat. She cried until she could have sworn she could not anymore. Until the point she was sick and coughing, feeling like she would throw up at any given moment.

The pain in her head felt like all the pressure decided to gather between her temples and yet she still could not stop. She rocked his body back and forth, refusing to let him go, refusing to accept that he was no longer.

He was supposed to find a modicum of happiness or comfort after everything he had to endure. He had to still guide her through several awful decisions that she was bound to make in her life. To be there for her, with her, a part of her family, the family neither him nor her had. They were supposed to find comfort in each other. For him to walk her down the aisle, to see her form a family of her own. To roll his eyes and tell her she could do better. And she would laugh since she knew no one was good enough for her in his eyes.

She wanted time, she needed time.

To set him up on bad dates. To help him find happiness, to allow the world to see him for who he truly was and the good he had to offer. And the love, so much love despite his harsh exterior and rough edges, he had so much to give. She knew, it was onto her that he poured all his love and devotion, in the only ways he knew how.

She was strong because of him, she was alive due to him.

"Please, I'll give you the ritual, I'll give you my heart, please."

If it was not for the battle that began once more, explosions and forces moving in from Hogsmeade and the surrounding areas under Jasper, Mirunna and Charlie's command anyone who would have walked near the shack would have sworn it was indeed haunted and all the stories behind it were true.

The war happening outside suddenly did not matter to her, the entire world could burn. She was there all alone, breaking down, ready to set waste to everything just so she could get what she wanted. To get her life back, a chance, only one was all that she wished for.

It was more than anger, it diluted as she felt her hands unable to grasp Snape anymore and yet she still did not let go of him. She did not know how, just like a stubborn child that was unable to understand a simple concept. Death should have been simple for her, she knew it like the back of her hand. Inside her hectic mind she knew he was never coming back. Snape was dead, so was Tonks and God knew who else by the time she decided to actually pick herself up the floor and join the battle once again.

But she did not.

Talia never got up from the dirty floor inside the abandoned shack in order to rejoin the fight.

For the first time in her life she did not know how to fight against what was happening. She had no control over the events, they did not circle around her and even if they did, she did not care. She wanted to sit there, punishing herself, berating every single decision that had led to the present moment.

She should have ensured she got the people she cared about to safety. She should have gone against the odds, actually be the weapon they believed her to be, what she was meant to become. How was she one in that very moment when she could barely handle her own grief? When her voice came out hoarse and strained? When no god or entity lent an ear or listened to her plea?

When the fight was won and Voldemort defeated, she still was not there.

Talbott and a few others finally made their way to her location and it took all their combined strength and persuasion to convince her to let go of him so they could take his body, but when she finally lifted her tear filled eyes to look at Talbott and she spoke "It should have been me who died, it should have always been me." He found himself on the verge of tears once more.

It was victory, however they have lost so much in the process. They did not celebrate. They kept quiet, helped to heal the wounded, gathered the dead and cried. Coming back from such an event would take years and most of them who had been through the first war knew it would not end there, with the battle won.

There was always the aftermath, a horrid ripple effect into everyone's lives. Decisions needed to be made, strength gathered once more in order to go after those remaining. Regimes would change again and with it no one knew what the future would look like.

All they could do was try and get through it, help if they found the necessary strength and try to live with the trauma and the loss.

How can one go and live a normal life?

How can one go to sleep knowing they saw what they saw?

How can one endure?

How can strength be found?

How…?