Summary: Harry, with help from Ron and Hermione, has finally killed Lord Voldemort.
You are just standing. Your body and mind feel frozen: covered in ice that is the weighs too much. So you just stand. Hermione and Ron slip into your vision, but you barely register them and don't even realise when they say your name. Their expressions demand a response. The words "he's dead" come to mind but don't manage to reach your mouth. Hermione reaches out and places her hand on your arm. You expect the place where her palm is pressed against your flesh to be warm, but you feel nothing. Shouldn't you feel something?
Hermione turns to Ron and tells him that they need to go somewhere, anywhere else. Ron nods slowly and suggests they go to his house. Hermione turns back to you. She is pale and her eyes are dull with purple smudges around them. She looks like how you feel. Like death. Ron looks like he might throw up slugs. He takes you by the arm, while explaining to Hermione that he will apparate with you to The Burrow. Hermione spins and vanishes. Then you are being squeezed through a dark rubber tube. You prefer the freedom of flying.
The weak dawn sunlight makes you squint. A twittering sound pierces the morning quiet. Your eyes search for the source of the noise and there is Pig flapping next to your head. You reach up to pat him. There is something sticky and red on your hand. Before your thoughts can complete themselves, you are being gently guided into the house. The place with a name that screams 'home'.
You are pushed into the kitchen. Hermione's eyes are worried. You look away at the fire. The flames dance up and down as if they know they should be celebrating. Soon people are buzzing around you. They shower you with hugs and kind smiles. You just stand.
Everyone becomes listless, unsure. You feel their eyes slide across you, then Hermione. Ron tells them: "he's dead". The buzzing explodes into cheers. More smiles, more hugs.
You start to shake so Hermione drags you over to a seat near the fire. The light makes her look old. Older than she should. Everyone else seems younger, cheering and drinking like students would.
You shiver despite the glow of the fire. Someone sits next to you. The heat of their body radiates onto yours, slowly warming you through. A flowery scent fills your senses. It soothes you, helping your limbs to untense. A soft voice says, "I'm proud of you".
Your eyes burn and you look up. Flaming hair and soft features make up the form that is Ginny.
"Proud?" you question.
"Yes," she says. "Harry James Potter, you are an amazing wizard."
Your vision blurs. Images of everything that has happened run though your mind: the Chamber of Secrets, the Triwizard Tournament, meeting and losing Sirius, finding and destroying the Horcruxes, finding and destroying Voldemort. You blink.
Tears trickle from your eyes and create hot tracks down your cheeks. Your throat tightens. You swallow hard, then open your mouth to pull in air. A sob escapes.
The room fades away. And you are wrapped up in flowers and softness with you face buried in red hair.
More arms wrap around you and tender words are said. And you sit embraced by Ginny, Hermione and Ron - the people you love - as everyone else stares. Tears continue to pour down your cheeks as you cry. And finally you feel free.
