50 reviews! Mind blowing, I tell you. Just think how I'll feel if we get to 100...don't you want to find out? Songs for this chapter: "My Body is a Cage" by Arcade Fire and "New Slang" by the Shins (really great song) Enjoy the chapter!

"I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!"

"You do care," said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

As he made his way back to the castle, Harry passed a group of students gathering stones of different sizes and levitating them into the air. One sixth year boy, Randall, he believed he had seen fight quite valiantly in the battle and take down several Death Eaters. Randall saw Harry and approached him excitedly as he set down his rocks. Speaking at light speed, he started,

"Hello, Harry! Would you like to help us? Ofcourse, I'dunderstandifyouhadotherthingstoattendto-"

Harry was immediately reminded of Colin Creevey. The young Colin had apparently fought even when he and the other students who were nowhere near to being old enough to fight were banned from battle. God, Colin...his overeager smile, his innocence-Harry wished he'd posed for some of his pictures now...

Harry held up a hand, trying not to retch, "Sure, Randall. What are you doing? Clearing away some rubble?"

Randall sobered instantly. "Actually, we're collecting some things to use in the memorial service, it's going to be tomorrow, you know?"

Harry's heart quickened. He'd expected some sort of eulogies for the dead, after all there had been so many...too many-but so soon? He wasn't sure he was prepared. If he had only given himself up to Voldemort sooner; he'd been such a coward!-

"Harry?" Randall asked, concern on his face, "You alright?"

Harry inhaled sharply, "I'm sorry, I have to go, I-"

Randall nodded sympathetically. "It's okay, mate. We all understand."

Harry felt a fleeting anger sweep through him. They UNDERSTOOD?! He highly doubted it. Instead of voicing these thoughts he merely pasted a smile on his face.

"Goodbye, then."

Harry all but ran from the scene.

When he reached the Quidditch pitch he found Neville and Ron were already playing fairly high up on their brooms. Hermione sat on the sidelines alternating between reading what looked to be a heavy tome and watching the boys pass the Quaffle back and forth. A faint smile came to her face when she glanced up every now and then at her friends in the air. When she saw Harry approach her smile widened. "Hello, Harry! I'm so glad you decided to come join us."

Without warning a mass of bushy hair came at him as she stood and hugged him. When she let go, Harry had a good look at her face. Bags under her eyes told him she hadn't been sleeping well. He gave her a half smile,

"You know you can talk to me, right?"

Hermione nodded and looked at her feet, "It's just...I didn't think it would be this difficult. To move past everything," her eyes began to sting (don't you DARE cry!) and she blinked several times before continuing. "We didn't really think about what we'd do after all this was...done, did we?"

Harry laughed. "Well, that's an understatement. I assumed I'd end up dead. And," his voice was hollow, "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Harry! We had no-we thought you'd faked it somehow, when you appeared out from under the Cloak-"

Harry shook his head. "It's alright, Mione', really." He sighed.

Hermione stood her ground. "No, it really isn't Harry, you need help-"

"HARRY!" Ron and Neville yelled as they descended. Neville reached the grass first and put a hand on Harry's shoulder as Hermione sat down with a huff.

"I've been meaning to thank you, Harry."

"For what?" Harry frowned.

Neville gave him a warm smile. "For giving me the confidence I needed on the battlefield," He was breathing quite heavily and sat down on the bench. "Still a right bit out of shape," Neville grinned, "but that didn't stop me the other day! You should've seen me, Harry! Off with that evil snake's head!"

Ron heard him telling the now famous tale and rushed over.

"It was bloody amazing," said Ron, "everyone's still talking about it." He looked admiringly at Neville. The other boy continued,

"If it hadn't been for you telling me that, Harry, for giving me, giving us the strength-all year, not just when Voldemort came for us-I don't know what I or anyone would've done!"

Harry said nothing. Just then, he noticed Ron's eyes were red. "You okay, mate?"

"Why-oh," Ron rubbed an eye, "Neville had just done this amazing move, and it reminded us of the time where Fred..." He trailed off.

Harry felt his eyes watering. Merlin, Fred hadn't deserved to die, none of them had-all his fault, all his-

"So," said Hermione briskly, "did everyone hear about the memorial? Should be-well, "exciting" really isn't the right word, but majestic, perhaps?"

Neville nodded, "They've set it for tomorrow, I believe. To give some of us time to...prepare."

Ron gulped. He didn't know how he was going to react tomorrow-bloody hell, he didn't know how his family was going to react! He supposed Mum would be the most hysterical, Dad would be comforting her, and George...

He didn't know what George would do. And that scared him.

The four friends looked at each other wearily.

"It's going to be a long day, tomorrow," sighed Hermione, "we'd best get some rest."

Harry looked at the sky and was quite rattled to see it was darkening. The day had really gotten away from him.

"Right," he said, "we'd better get something before everything's been eaten," even though he knew very well that was an impossible occurrence.

They headed back to the castle and the warmth of the Great Hall.

Harry found himself merely picking at a treacle tart and nursing a half goblet of pumpkin juice. His appetite had been slowly lessening in the last few months but seeing Snape and thinking about the upcoming memorials made it enormously difficult to be enthusiastic about eating. It seemed the others at the table were in a similar situation.

Neville was sitting by Luna staring down at his chicken forlornly. Across from him, Hermione was taking a sip every now and then from her cup and nibbling on the end of a quill. Ron was had his eyes closed and his plate was occupied by a lone piece a buttered toast which hadn't been touched. The rest of the hall was filled with students but instead of the hum of activity that normally came with dinner hour there was a hush, an eerie calm that seemed to smother the air and chatter. Harry couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, he needed to get out, get AWAY-

"I'm heading up," he said. Ron didn't look up. Hermione slowly lifted her head with a frown.

"Are you sure you're alright? I know you can't be, Harry, after all that's happened-"

Harry gave her a sharp look, impatient to leave and sick of her worry. "I'm fine. Are you, though? No, you're not. And it's..." He was startled by the harshness of his voice and by the looks of it, so was Hermione. She sadly watched him walk away and stopped herself from following him.

"He just needs to be alone..." she explained, feeling quite useless. We are all so lost, aren't we?

Neither Ron or Neville looked up from their dishes.

A/N-I see I have more than a few followers, and that's fabulous! If some of you could take the time to review, even just a few words, a feeling you got, a reaction-it would mean so much to me. Thank you.