Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. JK Rowling does, unfortunately.
It was a cold winter night, the coldest night of the year. Millions of twinkling little stars covered the clear dark sky. A sheet of white snow blanketed the ground. The serene scene sharply contrasted with the horrific battlefield over the hill.
Blood, rich and bright, stained the innocence of the pure white landscape. Mangled, torn bodies lay splayed all over the ground. Blank, empty eyes stared up into the heavens. No sound, no movement disturbed the scene.
The first thing Harry was aware of was the pain. The stinging, biting sensation, at his side, coupled with the frigid coldness. Weakly, he lifted his head, and slowly touched the wound with his frost-bitten fingers. His vision doubled as he tried to concentrate on his fingers. They dripped scarlet.
He made an effort to site up, blood spurting through his clothing. Harry doubled over, vomiting feebly. Bodies, everywhere. And silence.
"Hermione? Ron? Ginny?" He called hoarsely, before falling face first into the snow.
Straining to hold his head up, he squinted his eyes. There, a few yards away! Flaming red hair, shining copper in the moonlight. "Ginny!" Harry pulled himself through the snow on his elbows, grunting from the effort, dizzy from the pain. His left leg also pained and would not move, but he dragged it along.
The young girl lay on her side, eyes closed, and her face an unearthly white. A hideous red cut ran jagged across her neck.
"Ginny? Ginny!" Harry shook her, tears falling fast, and freezing before they hit the ground. He pulled her to his chest, shuddering at how bitter cold her body was. Blood mingled with salty tears. With a muffled moan, he kissed her gently on the forehead, and whispered in her ear. Pulling her icy hair from her face, and he laid her down tenderly.
Across from Ginny were two other bodies. Hermione and Ron had fallen next to each other, lying peacefully like a pair of angels. Harry inched to them, lowering his eyes against the freezing wind. "Not you two," he whispered, as he neared them.
Hermione's otherwise serene face was crisscrossed with red marks. Her lips were a pale purple, opened partway as if about to speak. Her longing eyes gazed at Ron.
"Hermione…" Harry whimpered, another sob rising in his throat. Instead, he gave a hacking cough, bringing up dark red blood.
Ron's normally dancing eyes were blank and unseeing. His legs were obviously broken, in positions not possible for the human body. One of his blue hands was reaching towards Hermione.
Fighting a wave of nausea, Harry bowed his head in respect for his two best friends. They had fought since the first day they had met, never ceasing to irk and tease each other, but they had always been there for each other. And for him.
He took one of Hermione's hands, and placed it onto Ron's.
"Thank you." His cheeks were already frozen with trails of tears, but Harry ignored them, as more continued to flow. He could say no more, as he already felt more blood bubbling in his throat. Keeping it in defiantly, he was startled to see a movement in the corner of his vision.
A dark figure- a man- was rolling over. A pool of red was spreading quickly beneath him. "Harry?" came a muffled sound.
Despite growing pains in his chest, Harry crawled towards him. "Professor Lupin? Is that you?" A small hope grew…someone was alive! That hope diminished immediately as he saw how bad of a condition Lupin was in. Blood covered his face, and was matted into his freezing hair. There were slashes through his clothing, from which blood was pouring from.
"Harry…you did it…" Lupin whispered. "We…won…"
"Professor!" Harry coughed again. "Save your strength! I am getting you help!" He tried to drag the larger man onto his back, but staggered back down to the earth, blood spurting like crazy, head spinning.
"Don't worry-Harry…" Lupin managed a small smile. "I am already…almost…dead…"
"NO!" A tremendous pain shot through his leg, but Harry stood and fruitlessly tried to pull Lupin. He stumbled down again, vomiting blood in the snow, crying in rage that he could not save him.
Lupin reached an arm on his shoulder. "We won, Harry! You killed…Voldemort…"
"But at what cost? Everyone is dead! Everyone I love!" Harry clutched his wound, sinking lower into the snow. "I can't do this anymore…"
Lupin appeared not to hear him. His eyes were glazed over. "I am proud of you, Harry…" he whispered so soft, it was hard to hear over the wind. "I know James would be proud…"
"Stay with me!" Harry screamed. But Lupin was gone.
Harry looked up in despair. "Look what you have done, VOLDEMORT! Everyone, EVERYONE I love is GONE! GONE! DEAD!" his voice echoed in the white countryside. "Is this what you wanted? All my life, you have taken from me! MY parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, my FRIENDS!" He stopped, choking on blood. His vision was blurring again, the earth was spinning. The pain from his side, chest, and leg was blinding him, but it was nothing like the hate that burned.
Then the hate was gone…he was too tired. All he felt was immense sadness…a void of emptiness. "Look what you have taken from me…" he murmured softly.
Light snowflakes began dancing from the sky, floating onto the earth. They landed on his head, on his body, but Harry was too drowsy to brush them off. He looked up into the bright crescent moon dangling in the sky, and soon the light became brighter, and the lines less defined…until everything was a blur of gold.
"Harry…Harry…" Harry heard voices calling to him. From the light. "Harry, Harry…Harry…" It was a medley of voices. He could distinguish Hermione's voice, Ginny's voice, Sirius' voice, and other familiar ones. "You are finally here…" they said. "Come with us…you can happy now…"
Then he saw the blurred outline of his mother, Lily.
"Come, my baby boy…" she smiled, and held out her hand. Blinking from the blinding light, he reached for it, and the second they touched, he felt a warm, golden sensation. Pain, cold, hate was gone. It was pure happiness.
As he stood up, he left his body behind, Harry looked at his mother, then looked back hesitantly at his body, bloody, lying in the cold.
"It is time," she said softly. Then she wrapped her arm around him, and he walked with her, into the light, never looking back again.
In the morning, the sun was shining brightly. There was no trace of the deadly battle. The fresh-fallen snow covered all the bodies, the blood, the destruction, turning the scene back into the innocent, peaceful countryside.