Harry Potter was the man who conquered; the people thought he had conquered death. He survived. Twice the killing curse was unable to kill him.
Though he did die that day at Hogwarts; His body remained. His heart and soul were left among the rubble of Hogwarts.
All because of a Slytherin with an icy blue gaze and a whispered gentle love.
All because of Daphne Greengrass.
Ginny Weasley
I thought the cure would be time. I thought it would be the cure for heartbreak.
Time would heal him. Time would force him to move on. Time would allow him to love me how I always had.
But it never would.
He was kind, always so kind. But when he kissed me, it was like he was calculating something, like he was trying to remember.
I wasn't her. I would never be.
One day I finally asked him "Would you have looked at me if she hadn't gone?"
His silence was all I needed.
I moved out the next day; he didn't stop me; he didn't look at me.
Pansy Parkinson
I hated him. For years I hated him.
But when you spend time around someone like him you can't help but fall in love. I finally saw him rather than the symbol.
I met him after the war when he went from being the man who conquered to being a man, tired and lost.
I was roped in, convincing myself I was curious and just working towards a political goal.
But he was him. He didn't purport himself; he was quiet. A scary thing, as if a ghost in his own life.
I hoped to Merlin I could be the one to rescue him.
But no one is.
I kissed him once at the ministry ball. I pushed harder, but as he kissed me, he wasn't kissing me but rather the memory, the ghost that followed him.
It made me angry. She was gone, all I wanted him to do was make him live, not just exist.
But that was impossible, so I forced myself to move on.
Astoria Greengrass:
It should have been me.
She was the one to break the mould.
The perfect pureblood princess fell in love.
I watched as those walls crumbled, as hope crept into her heart. The barbs got nicer, her smile wider, eyes shining whenever he entered the room.
Likewise, I saw the way those green eyes blazed when she was in the room.
Then she died for him.
He just stood there, at the funeral he just stood there staring at the stone. Engraved with her name. Even as everyone left, he was as unmoving as the stone in front of him.
All I wanted was to hate him. She had died for him to live and here he was.
But seeing those green eyes dulled into twin voids, I realised that while I had lost a sister, he had lost his heart and soul.
That's when I understood, he had died with her that day at Hogwarts.
Fleur Delacour
'Arry doesn't realise, but people understand. I understand.
To love so deeply you souls are intertwined is the truest kind.
And yet, he makes me angry.
He is 'Arry Potter, he should have a family, a life and yet he wastes away.
I watched him for a month, robotic in his motions. As if existing just to exist. Surviving because there is no other choice.
His smiles falter, never reaching his eyes. His laughter echoes hollowly across the around him lacking the enthusiasm of his younger self. He looks at people with a stony look as if looking for something that will never come. Sometimes he reaches out as if seeing a ghost and hoping it will take him away.
That's what he does now, look for her.
Look for the impossible.
I snapped at him, " 'Arry, would she want this?"
"You don't even live, just exist." But he just stared back blankly.
One day, Bill said something I could never forget: "Is it love anymore, it seems more like punishment for sacrifice"
Ron Weasley
I remember the day I realised the truth. That Harry Potter, my best mate who had conquered the quidditch field and Chamber of Secrets died that day with Daphne Greengrass.
We were in Hogsmeade sharing a pint, and I asked him, "Have you ever thought of moving on?"
He let out a big sigh, downing the rest of his glass.
As I did this I thought of all those that had tried and failed to help him. Ginny, Pansy, Hermione, Fleur. They all tried and yet you cannot help someone that doesn't want it.
"Do you ever wake up and forget Fred is gone?"
My face starting to warm and throat drying
"Yes"
Staring me in the eyes in a way he had has not done for years
"And then when you remember, all the grief and sorrow come back?"
I give a nod of my head, unable to speak.
"It's like that."
"Only, I never forget."
That's when the realisation hit me, I was able to grieve and move on with my life. Harry didn't, he couldn't, and he would never. Thus, I found myself also grieving for the best mate I had, who I now accepted would never be coming back.
Luna Lovegood
Nargles had always infested Harry's had. But since her death, it always seemed like something else had replaced them, a ghost almost had scared them away.
I watch him going about life, smiling when he needs to, fighting for justice as everyone expects him to, but his soul is gone. He is just a body inhabiting this realm, waiting.
I asked him about thestrals again.
"Do you ever see them?" I whispered.
He looked at me with a sad smile.
"My Patronus"
Two words that would haunt me forever.
It was no longer Prongs, no longer the proud stag of his father.
His happiest memory, it had changed, it was no longer a specific time or day. It was her.
That's when I realised that Harry Potter had already died with Daphne Greengrass.
Teddy Lupin
He never married, everyone else got married but he didn't. I never understood why.
When I was seventeen, old enough to think twice about but not to comprehend his answer, I asked.
He ran a hand through his grey hair, sighing he said
"My soul was tied to her, when she died it left, there's nothing left for someone to marry."
It was years later when I realised. I saw him sitting on a bench, that distant look in those dull green eyes. That's when I realised, he was waiting.
Waiting for her.
Hermione Granger
I had always known that day would come. The one he had been waiting for his entire life.
And yet he never lived in his life, just existed.
I watched his shallow breaths, shortening with each, the rise and fall of his chest disappearing each second.
"Are you afraid?" I had asked him.
He smiled at me. Not the one he had been using as a mask for the last 60 years but instead a real genuine smile.
Lying there wrinkled and greyed, he looked more content than he had in his entire adult life.
"No"
A soft stead word that made my chest tighten.
He was the saviour of the wizarding world, and he had been waiting for almost his entire life.
Not waiting for peace or purpose.
Waiting for her.
The girl who had died too soon, taking his heart with her into death.
"She's waiting for you." It was the only thing I could think to say.
And that's when Harry Potter closed his eyes for the first time in 60 years and let go.
He died, and I smiled because, for the first time, I could say my best friend was happy.
The headlines would say, "Harry Potter, the man who conquered, dies at 78."
But all his real friends knew the truth.
Harry Potter died with her; his body just needed time to catch up.