Red Sun Rising
Chapter Three
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. So there.
Note: Harry's POV at the Final Battle, as promised.
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Deep in the night, a single owl called out.
Silence.
Another owl – answering the first. They were not alone.
God. To not be alone. That was a gift Harry could treasure.
Around him there was only death. Dead enemies. Dead friends. Dead Voldemort. Dead Harry.
Why am I still alive? –
What's left here? –
Incomplete thoughts and fragmented memories flitted like a hummingbird across Harry's mind.
Somewhere, Ginny lived. Somewhere, his son would grow strong and proud in Harry's memory. Grow without his father.
The world darkened a few shades, as though someone had laid a veil between his eyes and life. He stared up at the world, rising around him to somewhere where in the sky - obscured now from his view by either the veil or the blood running from forehead into his eyes - the stars shone. God, he hoped they shone like the night he'd first come to Hogwarts. Like the night he'd met Sirius. Like the night he'd first loved Ginny.
As the world darkened once more, Harry felt something flowing from his body. His blood? His magic? His soul? Who cared?
Somewhere the owl hooted again.
The world faded completely in Harry's vision and he at last knew peace. And he knew that somewhere - with Ginny watching, with the world watching - the red sun was rising.