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The courtyard was silent as Tom Riddle body crumpled to the ground. The sound of battle had ceased as Harry and Tom's duel had torn through the castle, causing wizards and death eaters alike to gather where they now stood to watch the final stretch of this terrorizing fight to the death. Harry stood victorious, wand still raised and eyes darting wildly between the awestruck faces of friends and foe until resting again on Tom's lifeless form. Part of him still feared that Tom would stir, that Harry was missing another piece of the Dark Wizard's plan of immortality, that he would rise to finish his massacre of all that Harry had known. But it was over. The war was won.
All hell broke lose.
The cheers of victory were deafening. The crowd surged forward in their rush to celebrate the second time savior of the wizarding world. Followers of the fallen Dark Lord bolted, seizing the window of opportunity to flee the scene or disapparate on the spot. Harry quickly was overwhelmed by the screams of victory as hundreds slapped him on the back, called out his name, and shouted their praises for doing the seemingly impossible.
"POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!" A chant rose above the sound of individual voices. He felt as if he was drowning, sinking under the wave of bodies, his vision growing spotty as his blood pounded in his ears. He started gasping for breath, feeling suddenly as if there was no longer enough air in the open sky to fill his lungs. He shut his eyes tightly while clasping his ears in his hands, the light of the overcast day suddenly too bright, the sound too great as it assaulted him from every direction.
"Hey, hey, I got you. I got you," Harry felt familiar wiry arms wrap around him, his soothing whispers piercing through the noise. He let his hands drop to his side as his head pressed against his best friend's chest. "Don't worry brother, I'm here. We did it. We actually fuckin did it and you were fuckin brilliant, bloody hell. It's over. Why don't we get out of this banshee's nightmare?" Ron said.
Harry gave a slight nod and cracked his eyes open as Ron helped him to his feet. When had he ended up on his knees? Hermione stood in front of them, casting the spells that insulated the trio from the mob and their now muffled cheers. As they slowly they cut a path to the castle, Harry occasionally caught sight of familiar faces and silently thanked them for not following. He felt awful for not being able to join in their celebration, but found himself giving a shaky sigh of relief as Ron closed the doors behind them.
"Where should we go now?" Ron asked, wearily turning to him. Harry paused as he took stock of his friends. Ron looked gaunt, covered in dust from head to toe and bloodshot eyes. Tear streaks cut clearly through the grime and his clothes hung far too loosely from his willowy frame. Hermione stood next to him, trembling slightly. Her round cheeks had been replaced with a frightening level of hollowness and she held a haunted expression, still gripping her wand like Voldemort himself might jump out from the shadows. Suddenly Harry was filled with a deep sense of longing. A longing for a time not so long ago, a time in which Ron laughed carefree as he poured over Quidditch recaps while munching on biscuits, where Hermione smiled in bewilderment as she chastised the pair about studying and responsibility.
"I want to go home," Harry whispered hoarsely.
"…Alright mate, let's go home."
The trio slowly made their way through the castle, putting one shaky step in front of the other. They held their wands tightly, jumping at every shadow, pointing at every flickering candle. They stumbled up each flight of stairs, ignoring the whispers of the portraits around them. They picked through room after room of rubble, entering each with caution, and when they reached the Fat Lady, she swung open without a word. It was until they had stood dutifully putting up protection charms, sent messages to the Weasley's, and pushed three of the dormitory beds together, that they collapsed in a tangle of limbs and allowed themselves to rest.
"We actually did it, didn't we? He's dead. We won," Hermione whispered, her voice cracking.
"Yeah. We did," Harry replied quietly. In that moment, Hermione began to sob and the trio embraced. They laid like that for hours, letting the finality of the battle finally sink in and exhaustion claim them one by one.
Harry woke with a strangled gasp, his vision filled with a flash of green light. His chest felt like it was on fire and it took himself several moments to force himself to calm down, allowing the soft sounds of Ron's snoring to pierce through his panic. He was in the Gryffindor dormitory. He was safe lying next to Ron and Hermione with the Elder wand in his hand. Slowly he sat up and adjusted his glasses, stifling a groan as the agonizing ache of battle rippled through his body. He felt sticky with sweat and grime, his messy hair plastered to his face. Quietly he made his way to the bathroom, trying not to wake the sleeping couple as he shut the door behind him. He turned around only to come face to face with a wretched looking man with a shaky wand pointed at him. It took Harry a moment to realize it was a reflection of himself. He approached the mirror slowly in horror. His green eyes shone wildly, his face now far thinner than it had ever been while living with the Dursleys. His chin was covered in scraggly stubble, his cheeks still splattered with Snape's blood, his hair a wild mop clinging to his head. He looked like an animal, barely recognizable from the boy he was before Bill and Fleur's wedding.
His clothes appeared several sizes too big, horribly worn and torn. Harry's eyes were drawn to a glimpse of his shirt and he quickly tore off his jacket to reveal a large crimson stain on his chest. Carefully he peeled off his top, now stiff and crusted to his skin, and gasped. There, spreading from the concave in his sternum caused by the locket, was a large lightning bolt scar shining brightly against his dark skin similar to the one crackling down his forehead. It was an angry red, and had began bleeding again in several places.
Harry shut his eyes tightly while tossing his glasses aside, and quickly began peeling off the rest of his clothes. He stumbled towards the shower, refusing to risk the chance of catching another glimpse of his terrifying figure and quickly began turning the knobs. The water came out scalding as Harry began to scrub. His chest burned while memories flashed before his eyes. Green light. Fred's lifeless smile. Collin's terrified face. The world exploding around him. Harry began scrubbing harder. Hagrid's deep sobs. Lavender's blood pooling around his shoes. Severus's gurgling gasps. Teddy. Harry felt tears start to burn his eyes. Fyre. The smell of Dobby's grave. Hermione's broken body. Sirius falling through the Veil. Harry's skin was beginning to feel raw as he felt like he was going to drown in the steam swirling around him. Cedric. Ginny's cold cheeks. Vernon's meaty hands. So much darkness. The world felt like it was folding in on itself. Red eyes. Hari, Amma loves you. Appa loves you.
Harry screamed.
Then he sobbed.
He sobbed for every life lost, every joyous moment snuffed out by this wretched war. He sobbed for his willing death, a childhood he was robbed of, the parents that Teddy and so many others would now never know. He sobbed for every nightmare Hermione would now have, for enlisting Ron in a battle he shouldn't have been a part of, for every isolated moment Ginny faced, for every joke George would never share. He sobbed for every Slytherin who fought their brother, for every family that would never be whole, that maybe never was. He sobbed because he won this hellish war, but he won too late, he knew to little, and though the world was brighter, it never should have been so dark to begin with. He cried out in ways he'd never cried out before, feeling an agony that was long overdue.
Hermione bolted upright to Harry's scream. She had only heard it once before, when Sirius died and it terrified her more now than it did then. She lit her wand, pressing her back up against the wall as she quickly scanned the room, her dark hair whipping around her. She settled on Ron, frozen at the bathroom door as the screams devolved into incoherent sobbing. They reverberated throughout the dorm like the guttural sounds of a dying animal, coming out in wretched chokes and heaves and sputters.
"Ron? Ron! RONALD!" Hermione half shouted. Ron snapped out of it, turning to her with a look of terror on his face. "Do something!"
"Do what?"
"Anything! Comfort him, stop him, anything!"
"What the fuck would you have me do 'mione? You want me to barge in there while he's sopping wet and naked and tell him to get a grip?"
"Well we can't just leave him like that!"
"Are you serious? Have you ever heard him like that? Like sure, I've heard the man cry a few times, but bloody hell in all the years I've known the bloke, never once did it sound like that! For all I know, breaking down the door would make it worse," Ron snapped, fear shining brightly in his eyes. Hermione opened and closed her mouth, frozen in place.
"We can't leave him like that, we shouldn't leave him…" She whispered. Ron's face softened as he reached out to her.
"We won't. We'll sit right here and wait for him to get it all out. And when he's ready, he'll come out and we'll be right here waiting for him. I promise we won't leave him," Ron said softly, wrapping his arms around her shaking figure. She quietly nodded, allowing Ron to bundle the two of them in a blanket. She tugged on the cuff of her pajamas as she curled herself up tightly in a ball. The two of them had woken up earlier, allowing them to clean up and talk to a few people giving them their whereabouts and brief status updates. They had decided not to wake Harry, despite having slept for nearly 19 hours already, and agreed not to disturb him until they woke again. Merlin knows they were still exhausted, and no one really knew what Harry went through when he disappeared only to turn up "dead" and then vanquish the Dark Lord himself. He deserved some fucking rest, as Ron put it.
"What happened?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know. I woke up to 'the feeling' and realized he was in the bathroom. I was going to check on him when he turned on the shower and that began," his voice wavering. Hermione found herself curling up into Ron's side, and for a moment, felt like she understood Harry's tendency to hide in small spaces. They sat silently, the only sounds being the one echoing off the bathroom walls. With each minute that passed, Hermione felt more frozen, more helpless, increasingly scared that it might never stop. She feared that Harry might never come out, and if he did, it wouldn't be the same Harry that walked in. But after nearly an hour, it did. She felt Ron stiffen as he stared expectantly at the door. But the shower didn't shut off. The silence soon became nearly as agonizing. She felt her heart beating in her ears, Ron's breathing pick up in pace. He soon snapped, jerking to his feet.
"I'm goin' go check on him… just erm… wait here," Ron hesitantly approached the door, giving it a pair of quiet knocks.
"Harry? You alright mate?"
Silence.
"Oi, Harry," Ron said with another set of knocks.
Nothing.
"Alright mate, Imma come in, cover yourself if you can hear me." Ron tentively opened the door causing steam to pour out into the room.
"…Harry? Harry?! HARRY! HERMIONE! TOSS ME A SHEET!" Ron began to yell frantically. Hermione jumped up, yanking a sheet from the bed and stumbling blindly into the bathroom.
"Harry, mate, it's me, it's Ron, come on buddy, you gotta wake up! It's your brother, Harry. Please!" Ron snatched the sheet from her hand, quickly wrapping his best friend up and dragging him out of the bathroom.
"Ron?" Harry muttered weakly.
"Yeah, yeah mate it's me. I've got you, I'm here. I'm right here, you just gotta hold on with me."
"Merlin's beard," Hermione gasped, stumbling to her knees. His skin was bright red, the thin lines of cruciatus scars swirling around his body, only broken by bright gouges of nails dragged against skin. Her hands shook as she gently touched the bright scar carved into Harry's chest and nearly choked when her hand came away with blood. Harry's body began to violently spasm.
"Harry, you can't leave us! Hey, hey hey. What about Ginny? She'd be devastated! Mom would never recover! I'll kill you if we got this far only for you to die right now! Please, I need you! I love you, please." Ron was openly crying, his face a bright crimson. "Hermione, do something! We can't let it end like this! Please, DO SOMETHING!" Hermione snapped out of her shock, jumping to her feet.
"He needs a healer, just wait here, it'll be okay." Hermione's voice cracked as she dashed from the room.
"I need you, you're family harry. Please. I love you… i love you…"