Disclaimer: I don't own anything hairy. And I don't own anything related to Harry. He and his friends are all Ms. Rowling's creations, and I mean no infringement on her rights.
The war is over, but at what cost? Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, rows of friends, acquaintances, just in the last battle alone. Why did they have to die? They all fought bravely and sacrificed for, how did Dumbledore and Grindelwald phrase it, "For the Common Good." They shouldn't have had to give themselves.
Standing there, with his hands in his pockets, surveying the great hall, Harry felt overwhelmed with emotions. Among them, grief, sorrow, sadness, for those gone; jubilation, relief, gladness that it was finally done; and exhaustion, pure exhaustion after what seemed like an eternity of running, hunting, and fighting. What was there left to do? After it seemed like everyone had wrung his hands, congratulated him, and praised him, even though he didn't feel worthy of it, Harry was left standing in a dimly lit corner, surveying the carnage left in the wake of the final battle.
His best friends, Ron and Hermione, were holding hands, standing with the rest of the Weasleys, mourning the loss of George's twin, Fred. Molly was still hysterical after hours of crying, held by Arthur. George looked shell shocked, almost white as death himself. Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Ginny were all holding each other. Harry looked away. It hurt so much to see them, the only family he had left, in so much pain. They all had thanked him, and told him it wasn't his fault, but Harry couldn't help feeling guilty.
If the hadn't stayed at Hogwarts to fight, this never would have happened. They would all still be alive. NO! They still might not be. Voldemort would have com regardless, and would have hunted everyone he know down, one by one, to get to him. It just hurt so much.
Harry turned and walked back out of the great hall, along the stone walkway littered with rubble from the battle.
A female voice to his right said, "Thank you, Harry," but he couldn't see her, so despondent was his mood. His eyes wouldn't even lift from the ground and his shoes.
Harry looked up a while later to find himself face to face with the Fat Lady. His wandering took him to the first real home he ever knew, the Gryffindor Common Room. At that moment, he realized he didn't know the password, but then he heard a dreamy, distracted voice, and of course saw Luna. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she immediately grabbed Harry in an all encompassing hug, as the portrait opened. Both teens just held each other for what seemed like hours, as tears of grief fell. After many minutes, the entered the common room together and both flopped into Harry's favorite armchair.
"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry." Harry just nodded in response and stared at the ceiling, trying to think about nothing.
"Are you okay?" Harry croaked, his voice raspy from lack of use.
"OK," remarked Luna, "I could go for some plimpie soup, though. It always seems to cheer me up."
Harry grimaced at the thought of the last time he'd heard plimpie soup mentioned. None other than Luna's father, Xenophilus had said Luna was fishing for plimpies, when he was actually trying to delay himself, Ron, & Hermione and turn them into the death eaters. Harry knew Xenophilus was just trying to save Luna, but it didn't make him feel any better.
Luna, who seemed to have read his reaction perfectly, said, "I'm sorry again for what Daddy did."
"It's okay. It's not your fault. I might have done the same thing in his place."
"No, you wouldn't."
"Hmm. Thank you, Luna. For just being here. I think I'm going to get some sleep. Don't tell anyone I'm here."
"I won't, Harry. Sleep… well."
Harry turned, and headed up to the dorms to find what was his four poster empty, and looked like it has been unused all year. He laid down, still dressed in the grungy robes he's been wearing for what seemed like ever, and immediately fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of friends hit by green wand-light and falling down never to move again.
Harry woke, covered in sweat, to find that it had gotten light outside. He just stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, painfully reliving the events of the prior day before dragging himself out of bed.
He walked slowly down to the common room to find Luna still there, sleeping in the chair.
In another chair, staring into the fire, was Ginny. She looked over toward him sensing movement, and stood up too fast, which caused her to almost faint. Harry instinctively rushed forward to catch her and eased her and himself back into the chair.
"You okay?" he asked.
Ginny looked at him with her puffy eyes and mouthed, "No." No sound came out. "You?" she whispered, looks of longing and hope making their way to her face.
"I will be, I guess," Harry answered, not believing it himself. "Where is everybody?"
"In the great hall. They've brought beds for everyone here, and those that…" here her voice cracked and she couldn't say the words, "…have been brought to a pavilion outside." Ginny started crying again, and Harry pulled her close to him.
"I'm sorry," he said placatingly.
"No!" Ginny almost yelled, causing Luna to wake up suddenly, "You shouldn't be sorry. It's not your fault."
Harry just looked at her knowing she should agree, but not exactly believing it.
Ginny stared back, the tears stopping, with the blazing look Harry loved, and said, "Say it. It's not your fault. It was Riddle. It was always Riddle, and those less than human followers of his. Don't you EVER forget that. You've done so much. So much," she trailed off.
By that time, Luna was standing up and said, "She's right, you know. You really should say and believe it's not your fault. False accusations are known to promote wrackspurt infestations." With that, she headed toward the Fat Lady.
"Thank you, Luna… for finding me. It's… not my fault."
"I had only to follow the trail of nargles," is all Luna answered, as the Fat Lady closed behind her, and left Harry alone with Ginny.
