Just so you know this starts after the last chapter of the seventh book and BEFORE the nineteen years later bit.
chapter 1:
Harry woke up, bruised and battered. He opened his eyes and realised he still wore his glasses and clothes from the night before and the clothes he wore were not school uniform, yet he undoubtedly had slept in the Gryffindor dormitory with Ron snoring beside him. Then everything from the past year until the fresh wounds of the night before washed over him, a wave he had no chance in fighting. He felt like crying but a peaceful feeling of relief contrasted it to make his emotions a very confused whirlpool. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed. He heard a rustle of sheets and turned to share a sad smile with Ron. Harry noticed his red puffy eyes but didn’t remember Ron crying. Then a dreadful image hit him, too many bodies lined up, most of which he knew. All lost souls, dead because of him. Because he couldn’t of died quicker, figured out the deed he’d almost been born to do. Harry had to turn away, hide his face. Oh the guilt. He remembered the time Sirius had died, remembered the guilt he felt then. In the end he told himself he’d tried his hardest, did the best he could, and he recovered, he accepted everything, he grieved and moved on. This was different. He looked back and ridiculed on how he had ever felt innocent. He thought of all the family’s, the Weasley’s who would never get their son back and poor Ted who would never have parents, deserted just as Harry had been. All Harry’s fault.
“C’mon” said Ron simply.
Harry got up and brushed off some dust. He washed his face in cold water and caught his reflection. Many scratches big, small, deep covered him but he brushed them off as he had the dust. His mind bore too much pain to feel anything physical. They met Hermione on the landing of the stairs. She burst into tears when she saw them. She hugged him before embracing Ron with a long deep kiss. Harry felt a glint of happiness as he saw them together, happy. He wandered over to where Ginny stood, waiting. Fresh tears were in her eyes yet she wore a smile at the sight of him.
“I’m so sorry” he said and she started crying heavier now, resting her head on his shoulders. He hugged her, trying to give her comfort while guilt raged inside him at seeing her unhappy. When Ginny had calmed down and Ron and Hermione had stopped kissing they all, wordlessly, decided to walk to the great hall. Walking through the great castle in this sleepy morning state seemed habitual after so many years of doing so and Harry wondered if he’d ever do it again. When they arrived in the hall they saw it still being repaired by professor McGonagall.
“Professor, can I help you with anything?” asked Harry worried she had stayed up the night fixing the curse holes and broken glass.
She looked at him absurdly, holding his gaze while the others walked on to the tables.
“Harry” she said. “You’ve helped us more than anyone ever could” she continued on with her work. “Now go have some breakfast,” Harry hurried off only later realising that he couldn’t get detention if he had objected.
“Harry, my boy!” boomed Hagrid, clapping him over the back with one very big hand.
“Ya done it, and ya lived and I thought.. I thought. Oh don’ ever do tha to me again Harry but-“ Harry could now see tears well up in his eyes.
“You grown up so much” he said and started walking away, still shaking his big head in wonder.
A few people eating breakfast nodded in gratitude as Harry walked past, he smiled at them but at the same time ignored the nods and shut them out just like all his emotions. He sat down beside the others.
“Mum said we’re gonna go back to home after breakfast” said Ron.
“Ok” said Harry.
Breakfast had never been so quiet in the great hall.
Rons family, Hermione and Harry all met in the hall, Mrs Weasley never stopped crying, Mr Weasley tried unsuccessfully to fake happiness while George never spoke. To Harry it felt unbearably uncomfortable he felt to blame and he felt like he kept intruding on their family. Mrs Weasley gave him the biggest wet hug and muttered words to him he couldn’t understand, he could feel her pride of him and felt he didn’t deserve it.
So they went back to the Weasley house. Harry kept mainly to himself, he tried to comfort Ginny but only seemed to make her cry more, meanwhile Ron and Hermione spent nearly every living moment together. Harry felt intrusive like a murderer going to the funeral of their victim. They all looked at him differently in a way he felt hard to interpret. Then the funerals started. First Remus’ and Tonks, Harry felt the added guilt which came as he thought of the last words he had said to Lupin. He had such admiration for the two of them and silently promised himself that he would do anything he could to make their son Ted’s life better. He cried just like all the others. Then poor Fred’s funeral came. As Harry looked around he couldn’t see one person that wasn’t crying at the tragic loss of a young life. Harry couldn’t watch as George tried to force words out about his brother who he would never see again. It looked like one of Harry’s nightmares, all the Weasley’s, some hysterical, some dead silent all deadly sad. Then there came the commemorative service. It bore the most people of all and even featured in the daily prophet. Harry had been forced to speak at it and he dreaded and hated every second of his speech. He mentioned how much the dead had helped, how it was they, more than him, who had together killed Voldemort. He told them to never forget those who died because of Voldemort, (and he secretly thought) because of me. His mind was too clouded to produce the speech with great, flowing words but (although he didn’t realise it) his speech was profound, beautiful and inspiring.
Gender:
Points: 5107
Reviews: 100