Disclaimer
I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters, or parts of the HP Universe. All associated elements belong to JKR
CHAPTER ONE: HELLS AFTERMATH
He stood on the edge of the battlements, staring into the silent void of night. A distant owls screech finally pierced the eerie stillness. The man eventually turned away as the sun finally started to crest the horizon. As he walked towards the door a snow white owl gracefully landed on his left shoulder. Amber eyes met emerald for the first time in months.
He slowly reached up to stroke the feathers on her chest, unable to believe that Hedwig had survived the skirmish above Surrey. She preened and nipped at his fingers with a small soft hoot, ignoring the dried blood on him. Together they entered the castle and wandered in silence. Harry walked slower than normal due to a hastily healed gash on his leg. As they slowly made their way down the stairs they passed a section of destroyed wall. Remembering that Fred, Percy, a few others were fighting in this location he started to move the debris.
He was reduced to moving most by hand due to magical exhaustion. His work was slowed even more due to his shoulder recently being put back in place. After a while he finally uncovered a body wrapped in Hogwarts robes. Robes that were dyed red with blood. Fear and a sense of loss rose up in him, until he finally uncovered the face.
Shock coursed through him when instead of a Weasley he found Zacharias Smith. Harry leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the ground unable to take his eyes off his classmate. He had seen people die, even killed people himself. To find the body of someone he knew for seven years was a totally different experience than that of death during battle. Hedwig nipped at Harrys ear, finally breaking him out of his daze. He called for a house elf to move Smiths body to the Antechamber with the rest of the dead.
"Dobby" Harry barely whispered, hoping he was heard. With a barely audible pop the surprisingly solemn elf appeared. Harry pointed to his fallen classmate and Dobby immediately understood, disappearing with the body. After taking a few more minutes the silent duo finally resumed their trek and grisly task.
As they made their way down the Seventh floor they saw a massive scorch mark on the floor. Laying on the floor halfway between them and the scorch mark was the top half of a walking stick. The silver snake head gave away the owner. Looking closer to where the Room of Requirement used to be revealed a grisly sight. The smell of melted flesh and hair filled the air, making him gag. The slightly scorched upper half of Lucius Malfoy laid attached to the charred floor. Where his legs should be was nothing but blackened bones, not a scrap of flesh left due to the heat of the fire that claimed him.
Harry could only believe that the fiendfyre from earlier was extinguished when the Room was destroyed. He vaguely recalled flying past something platinum on his way out after they rescued Crabbe and Goyle. He knew it wasn't Draco Malfoy because he was on the back of Harry's broom at the time, while Ron had Crabbe and finally Hermione was with Goyle. He felt
nauseous at the sight, and a little remorse at the loss of life. He felt no sadness that Lucius Malfoy was dead. As Harry walked his mind replayed scenes from that day.
He remembered passing them later on in the battle. Crabbe and Goyle were out cold while Malfoy pleaded with a masked Death Eater. They rushed past and Ron threw a quick right jab. He succeeded in punching Draco in the nose, with unforeseen consequences. Draco stumbled back and inadvertently lost his head, along with the Death Eater, twin fountains of blood spraying upwards as they both collapsed. This was due to one of the suits of armor swinging its claymore in a wide arc.
Memories slowly came back as he limped along the uneven floor. The faces of his allies as they fell, enemies as they sated their endless bloodlust. Giants and werewolves killing all they set upon. Dementors feasting on all, enemies and allies, those fighting and those dying on the torn blood soaked earth. The horror of glistening viscera and brightly shining blood flying through the air, coating everything and everyone. The agony and despair of those he knew fighting to the end. Never before has he felt such pain tearing through his heart and mind, his very soul.
As he slowly made his way to the stairs to the Sixth Floor Harry couldn't help but wonder, and be filled with dread, what else he would stumble upon. Would he find a little firstie? Would it be one of his teachers or an Order member? For all his thoughts he couldn't help but feel relief that the war was finally over. That Wizarding Britain could finally rebuild and heal. They could all finally move forward.
With those thoughts coursing through his mind he froze midstep, muscles locked, breathing shallow, and his vision faded to just a few feet in front of him. Despair flooded throughout his mind, body collapsing to its knees. A strangled moan left his throat as he stared at the horrifying, mangled sight before him…… There, at the end of the hall, a scant ten measly, yet achingly long feet away from his location….. a massive pool of blood and four bodies, three redheads and a brunette.