good day everyone im feeling a tad depressed so i though ide write this out and get some emotions out so i can continue writing my main story. as well as go along with my day.

Harry stood tall and proud on the very peak of Hogwarts Castle. He took it in—the land, this castle, his first home, his last home, the place he finally found a family.

Gone. All gone in a single hour.

It all started with a dream—or a vision during O.W.L. exams—a vision of Voldemort torturing his godfather. That's when the panic set in, now that he had time to think, now that he had time to see. At that point, he wasn't thinking clearly. He did everything to get himself closer to the Department of Mysteries, closer to the man who had become both brother and father to him—family.

Tears were streaming down his face now as he sat high up on the tallest rampart of Hogwarts Castle, so high that there was no mundane way to get there; only by magic could you reach this parapet. He had, of course, flown up here; he used a school broom. He had left his Firebolt on his four-poster with the note, that along with other things, said to give the broom to Ginny Weasley, provided she pulls through and leaves St Mungo's.he had thrown the broom to the ground as soon as he landed.

Ginny had been a whirlwind, first disarming the Inquisitorial Squad and aiding the rest's escape, then fighting at the Ministry. She was, Harry thought, the true inheritor of the Prewett genes; it took seven Death Eaters to take her down and had cost four of them their lives.

Thinking of Ginny invariably brought Ron to the forefront of his mind. Poor Ron, a brave boy, but his lack of attention in school had cost him. Unable to cast all but the most basic of spells because of his panic, he was the total opposite of Ginny. He was clunky and slow—too slow. He couldn't dodge. Harry was unsure what spell hit Ron, but it caused his body to rot on impact, and the rot spread. The screams, pleading, and broken gurgles echoed in Harry's mind even now. No one could stop to comfort Ron when he was hit; they were all fighting for their lives—five, six, seven, sometimes eight on one. It was chaos. But Harry had been pinned down next to Ron when he was hit. That encounter gave Harry his first kills: three nameless Death Eaters and Crabbe Senior. He got to avenge his best mate, at least.Poor Luna. A dark cutting curse got her legs. He actually had just left from visiting her in the hospital wing. She didn't seem too broken up about being a double amputee. she had already been drawing double prosthetics, though that at least seemed to ease his mind a bit. Luna always managed to wring a smile from Harry.Nev..Neville was done in by Bellatrix, but Neville gave as good as he got. She had sliced him open tip to taint and started slicing his organs as they spilled out with that cursed knife of hers.

But Neville got her back. "Decante," the rotting curse. There's no cure, and it'll take days for her to die horribly and painfully. She deserves no better. Poor Neville had cast a piercing hex into the side of his own head. Harry had watched this from across the Room of Death, unable to break his fight with Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione. Harry had no clue what happened to her. She had disappeared after the run from the Hall of Prophecy. He had found her while running through the various rooms after the order had shown up.distractimg Lucius and allowing his escape, She had been cut to pieces, but she gave far worse than she got. There must have been no less than twenty-five or even thirty supporters of the Dark Lord dead around her, a trail that led Harry to her body. That sight had broken him further. He found his way back to the Room of Death somehow, just in time to see Sirius tackle Lucius Malfoy beyond the veil who had just been about to curse lupin .He broke then. Harry had no idea whom he killed or how, Tom Riddle himself had made an appearance, but even that dark monster fell before the black vision that filled Harry's eyes.

And now here he was. It took him three days to wake up after Dumbledore had knocked him out, and it took two more days for Madam Pomfrey to let him go.

"Good-bye, Luna. Go for the raptor claws; you always remind me of a bird anyway."

"I think I will. Good-bye, Harry Potter. Are you going to soar tonight?

"Harry had laughed slightly at that. "Yeah, I think so."

Harry tossed a golden key to her. "That's the Potter family key for Gringotts. See that the Weasley family gets half, the Granger family gets a third, and you keep what's left."He left then, and Luna hadn't responded. She hadn't needed to.And now here he was, high above his home, taking it in for the last time.Harry stood up, placing the impervious charmed -sealed letter (thanks, Hermione) down in the center of the platform, and placed his wand upon it to keep it in place. Then he stood at the edge of the castle's highest stone.He closed his eyes and leaned forward.

He was flying again. There was usually freedom and joy in flight, but not this time.

Never again would those emotions fill the mind of Harry Potter.

Nothing would fill the mind of Harry Potter again. Ever.

When next he had opened his eyes, he was in a white space. A great white nothing.But as he looked around, shapes seemed to fill the space: stiles, tiles, benches, and a deep set of tracks that upon inspection, Harry saw that they were train tracks."King's Cross," said a familiar voice in a laughing, lilting tone.Harry whirled around and saw his best friend, the girl he loved more than life itself."Hermione! It's good to see you and all, but where are we?"

"Harry, don't you know anything? I just said it, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah, but this isn't really King's Cross," he said, looking around.

"No, but you always associated the train station with going home, going to Hogwarts. We thought it might be a better place for this whole chat."

"We? So what? theres more around? who? and youre what? a welcoming committee?"

"Yes, your father your mother, sirius few others of your family, but, we thought you'd like to see and respond better to me more. Everything and everyone else can wait for a time."

"So this is death, eh?"

"Yes, though it was different for me. It's different for everyone. I was sent straight on, you know, none of this in-between business."

"And why was I sent 'in-between'?"

"Because of that. Because had you died in a less messy way, you could have gone back, leaving it behind." And she said as she pointed at a bench a small ways off. Under it was a broken and flayed thing flopping around in pain, pushed under the bench to be forgotten.

"And what," Harry said with disgust, "is that?"

"Something beyond either of our help, I'm afraid."

As she said this, her eyes turned black—but not black; they turned into a void, nothing. And at that, Harry understood.

"The real Hermione is much more informative, you know."The thing that held her appearance straightened up, a look of surprise on its face. "Yes, we are."

"But you're not the real Hermione, right?"

"Yes and no, but we've learned over the eons that when it comes to dealing with the Peverells, it's best to come and greet you like an old friend." It held out its hand, and when he took it, Harry Potter saw no more.