Narcissa’s Despair

Darkness stretched like a suffocating veil over the forest. The air was thick with tension, the footsteps of the Death Eaters were muffled by the thick fog that danced between the trees. In the distance, Bellatrix's high-pitched laughter echoed, resonating in Narcissa's mind like an omen. But for her, none of that mattered. The imposing presence of Voldemort rising before her mixed with the growing dread that consumed her. There was only one thing on her mind: Draco.

In the midst of them, Narcissa looked for a gap to look at the body on the ground. The dark lord had won, but for her that didn't matter. All her mind could think about was him.

Draco

It was then that Lord Voldemort approached them, widened his red eyes and spoke in his slippery voice.

"You," Voldemort said, pointing to Narcissa. "Examine him. Tell me if he's dead."

It would take Narcissa a moment to tear her eyes away from him, but her muscles moved without her having to ask, following his command and taking three steps towards the body lying in front of her. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the chosen one, the boy her family had hunted for so many years, lay motionless on the forest floor. To her, this meant nothing. He was just another piece on a board where Draco was king.

Every thought screamed to find him, to see her son again, but there she was. Narcissa bent down, the weight of each movement making her hands tremble. Her fingers hesitated for a brief second before touching Harry's dirty skin. The sensation of heat beneath her fingers shocked her—he was alive.

Her heart pounded, not out of fear, but out of an urgency that was growing inside her. Draco needs me. The world around her disappeared, Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Harry himself, nothing mattered. All that remained was the need to save her son. Her voice was just a whisper, inaudible to the others around her.

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"

She waited for a moment and time seemed to stop. Harry's body remained still for a few seconds. Then, his chest rose and fell with difficulty, his eyes averting from hers.

"Yes," he replied, almost inaudibly.

Narcissa's heart tightened in her chest, and her hand, which was resting on the boy, contracted involuntarily. Her nails pierced Harry's skin lightly, and then she let go.

Draco was alive.

Narcissa stood up, looked at Voldemort, her expression cold as she told that lie.

"Yes. He's dead," she said, her voice firm and without hesitation.

As Hagrid picked up Harry's body, Narcissa could no longer think about what was happening around her. Her mind was racing and she could only think of one thing: finding Draco.

She followed the group towards the castle, amidst the funeral procession, her steps firm and her heart heavy. She would find him.

The darkness of the forest slowly dissolved into the chaos that consumed the battlefield. The roar of the flames and the screams of agony echoed in the distance, but Narcissa barely heard them. Her steps became quick and irregular, almost as if her legs were moving on their own. Each beat of her heart seemed to hammer Draco's name in her mind. The dread grew with each second, the reality distorted around her, but one truth remained: she needed to find him. He is alive, she repeated to herself, like a desperate mantra.

I need to find him. I need to see him with my own eyes.

As she left the forest, passing by sprawled bodies and rubble, Narcissa realized that there was no going back. She had lied to her master, and he never forgives.

Voldemort laughed as he tortured Harry who was pretending to be dead. The air grew thick, reeking of death and destruction, but the castle was getting closer, and that was all that mattered. In the distance, she saw Lucius walking awkwardly alongside the other Death Eaters.

He looked older, more tired than he had ever been. Their eyes met for a brief second, but neither of them said anything, but there was a silent understanding between them. There was no time for words or to fight together. Lucius was trapped in his own hell, and so was she, who then looked away and walked on, her body tense, still racing.

What if Harry was wrong? Narcissa shook her head, refusing to finish the thought. She couldn't think about that. Not now. When she finally emerged from the forest and approached the ruined gates of the castle, the sight before her was desolate. The once majestic Hogwarts was now nothing but ruins. Pieces of stone lay on the floor, shattered walls revealed rooms she had once been in. But now fire and ash covered everything around them.

"He's alive," she repeated like a mantra. "Harry said he's in the castle. I'll find him."

Crossing the gates, Narcissa found herself surrounded by the reality of what had happened inside. Students, teachers, allies and enemies, all moved with grief, in mourning. Every face Narcissa saw mixed with the fear inside her, every body lying on the ground made her walk faster. With each corridor she passed, her heart beat faster.

"Draco!" she shouted amidst the crowd. Her face, pale and contorted with anguish, no longer showed the aristocratic coldness of a Malfoy.

Further ahead, Narcissa spotted Pansy Parkinson. She was a classmate of Draco. She kept her eyes on the girl, who was staggering with a wound on her arm. Narcissa approached, her hand grabbing the girl's collar.

"Pansy, where's Draco?" Narcissa's voice was urgent, but even loud it was lost amidst the chaos of the castle.

Pansy, panting, just shook her head. The pain in her eyes reflected back at Narcissa.

"I… I haven't seen him since… before the battle…" Pansy stammered, but before she could finish, Narcissa had already moved on.

A feeling of suffocation took hold of her. The castle seemed strange, more dangerous now that chunks of the roof were falling like raindrops. Her son's fate was intertwined with every crumbling wall, every body lying on the ground. Even with Harry's assurance, the incessant fear that something might have happened to Draco took root even deeper within her.

Narcissa ran up the stairs, turned through the destroyed corridors of the second floor. Draco, where are you?

Narcissa raised her wand and pointed it at her chest.

"Vinculum Vitalis," she said, and her eyes closed. Silence. The tip of her wand lit up for a moment, but then went out. Maybe she had done it wrong, she thought, and performed the spell again. Nothing. Narcissa twisted her face, raised her wand and brandished – Lumen Maternalis.

The wand lit the tip, but soon went out. And again.

- Lumen Maternalis. – She said. Draco is not here. Where… where is he?

Narcissa climbed another floor, her heart beating wildly in her chest. The corridors of Hogwarts were a nightmare scene. The walls were cracked, covered in soot and stains of dried blood, as if the stone itself carried the screams of those who had fallen.

She advanced further, her wand firmly in her hand, illuminating the way with a weak conjured light. With each step, the sound of her boots echoed through the empty corridors. It was as if death was around every corner, lurking, waiting. The fear of finding her son among the mutilated bodies.

- Draco… – she shouted to the Slytherin common room. There was no answer. Only the cold wind that entered through the gap in the broken window. She walked toward the rooms, her throat still screaming his name. He wasn't there. Narcissa left the room and headed to the other side, a destroyed corridor. There she found an open door, its edges blackened by fire. The Room of Requirement.

The Room of Requirement. Narcissa remembered the last time she had heard Draco speak of this place, his voice trembling, filled with fear and regret. He had hidden himself here, surrounded by darkness and the weight of responsibility, and now the place seemed a reflection of that—a tomb, destroyed inside and out. Every piece of rubble and ash she saw on the floor resembled the pieces of her heart, scattered all over the place. But where was Draco?

Narcissa didn't see him. There was no sign of him among the rubble, no sign of anything, just piles and piles of ash, just total devastation. Her lips trembled, but she shook her head. He was alive. He had to be.

Turning away, Narcissa found herself running down the stairs, panic growing with every step.

"Draco!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the castle. The sound of the wind continued to come through the cracks in the wall, but there was no answer.

As she turned a corner, she came across a familiar face – a Death Eater lying on the floor, a wounded man, covered in dust and blood. She grabbed his arm with a strength that surprised even herself.

"Draco? Have you seen Draco?" she asked, choking with despair.

The Death Eater shook his head, his eyes lifeless, offering her only emptiness. His words pierced Narcissa like an icy blade. Draco wasn't with him. Draco was nowhere to be found. Despair nearly swallowed her, the pain so intense it felt as if the very air was being ripped from her lungs. For a brief second, her tears threatened to spill over, but she held them back. I am a Malfoy, she reminded herself, pressing her lips together. I cannot give in. Not now. Not until I find him.

For a moment, as she ran to the top floor, her thoughts wandered, and a memory flashed by, clear as if it were happening in front of her: Draco, still very young, wearing his Hogwarts uniform for the first time. He was nervous but didn't want to show it around his father, waving at her as the train approached the station. "I'll be in Slytherin just like you, Mum!" he said, with that shy smile. He was still her little boy, no matter what.

Narcissa blinked, coming back to the present. She felt as if time were slipping through her fingers. The battle around her, the chaos and destruction, everything seemed small compared to the desperate need to find him.

And so she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and raised her wand to try again. "Lumen Maternalis," she whispered, concentrating on the connection she shared with Draco. The light wavered at the tip of her wand, but went out. Narcissa felt a tightness in her stomach. She tried again, her voice firmer, but this time the light didn't even come on.

Her heart was beating like a drum. Where are you?

Narcissa walked down the last corridor on the top floor, her footsteps echoing in the dark silence of the castle when she reached the astronomy tower, there was someone there.

As Narcissa caught her breath, tried to calm herself, she heard voices whispering something. The sound was low, almost inaudible, but it reached her ears.

She turned in the direction of the voice, hidden behind a table were two Hufflepuff students. It was then that a sentence broke the dull noise around her.

– It's Draco's mother. – One of them said.

Her blood froze.

– You... Draco. Have you seen him? Where is he? Tell me! – Her voice was a mix of urgency and desperation.

The student who had spoken cowered, hugging his knees, couldn't have been fourteen, Narcissa thought. He exchanged glances with his friend, before answering, his voice full of fear.

– Draco... he... he followed Harry Potter to the room of requirement.

Narcissa felt a pang in her chest.

– The room of requirement? – she repeated, her eyes narrowing.

The student nodded slowly.

– Yes... but he didn't leave. I... I didn't see Draco leave. – He said.

The words hit Narcissa with the force of thunder. The air around her seemed thicker, each word of the young student reverberating in her mind. Draco followed Harry... but he didn't leave.

She walked away in silence, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Her thoughts were a storm, spinning and colliding in search of answers that never came. The room of requirement, she muttered to herself, but now, doubt gnawed at her insides. If he went in... why didn't he come out? The certainty that something terrible had happened grew inside her like a plague, and each step she took towards the room of requirement made the truth impossible to ignore.

Narcissa ran. Her boots slid through the rubble, while her mind refused to accept the truth that was forming.

She reached the room of requirement again, went down the stairs, and there it was, before her, the same pile of rubble. The destroyed stones, the smell of ash. The emptiness.

Her eyes searched the place, but there was no sign of Draco. The ground seemed to have disappeared beneath her feet. Nothing.

There was nothing.

It was then that something inside her broke, a silent but deep crack. A memory emerged, uninvited, invading her mind with the force of a well-aimed blow. Harry Potter's face. His words: "Draco is alive." The truth slowly formed in her mind, like poison seeping out, and the pain of this betrayal tore her apart inside. He had lied.

Narcissa remembered how he had spoken, how he had avoided her eyes for a moment, how his voice had trembled. She had not noticed before. She had been too desperate. But now... now, she saw everything clearly.

Harry had lied.

From above she looked down at everyone below. Voldemort's image stood out in the castle entrance as he addressed Neville Longbottom.

"Very well," said Voldemort, his hissing voice like thunder in the shadows. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. The blame will be entirely yours."

Narcissa turned her head, her attention fixed on the Dark Lord. She saw him raise his hand, and from a window in the castle, a misshapen object emerged toward him. Something that resembled a malformed bird, but it landed delicately in Voldemort's hand. With a sudden movement, he shook off the moldy object; it was the Sorting Hat, hanging empty, a symbol of a future that had fallen apart.

For a brief moment, Draco's face appeared in her mind—still a boy, wrapped in the Slytherin colors, the emblem of Salazar Slytherin glowing on his chest. The sight pierced her heart like a sharp blade. He was so young… my boy, Narcissa thought, despair rising in her throat. What remained of the pride in seeing him in that uniform now turned into unbearable pain.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," Voldemort declared, the evil gleam in his eyes intensifying. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will be enough for everyone, won't they, Neville Longb…"

Before Voldemort could finish speaking, a scream cut through the silence, echoing through everyone there.

"Murderer!" Narcissa's voice echoed through the crowd, her pain and anger mixed into a single, sharp sentence. Her face was contorted in anguish, her gaze fixed on Harry, who remained motionless on the ground. "Harry Potter killed my son!"

Among the dozens surrounding the courtyard, Lucius appeared and walked to Voldemort's side. Even from a distance, she could see her husband's wide eyes.

"What are you saying, Narcissa?" – Lucius asked, his voice wavering as his face began to pale. – Narcissa…

But Narcissa didn't listen.

–All of this… is his fault. – She screamed as her body slid down like fabric pulled by the wind. –Harry Potter killed my son!

Upon hearing the accusation, Voldemort only turned his head slightly to observe Harry lying on the ground, his gaze impassive, as if Draco's death was irrelevant to what was at stake. Maybe to him, but not to her.

"Narcissa, calm down," Lucius whispered, walking towards her. "If that is really true... then the Dark Lord has already avenged us. He has avenged Draco's death."

"No!" she shouted and pushed him violently, hatred in her eyes, her voice sharp as a blade. "He still lives!"

Narcissa raised her wand, her hand trembling, but pointed at Harry. "But I will have my revenge." She advanced with hateful steps, the words coming out as a guttural whisper. However, before she could take another step, a flash of green light struck her from the side.

Narcissa fell to the ground, her gaze still fixed on Harry as the life left her body. Voldemort lowered his wand, his expression cold and emotionless.

"Fool," he said, and turned to Harry. "So it's true… Potter?"

Lucius fell to his knees, but he didn't dare look at his master. Narcissa Malfoy fell to the ground with a dull thud, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow down. Her blond hair spread out on the stone floor, her eyes open but empty.

Harry took a deep breath, but the air seemed to tear from his lungs. Draco. The name rang like a death knell in his mind. The memory of Draco—pale, with a terrified look—haunted him. He had tried to save the boy, but in the chaos of battle, in the confusion and despair, he had left him behind.

Now, the image of Draco burning beside the ruins of the Room of Requirement was etched in his mind, a scar as deep as any other.

"I… I…" With trembling hands, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his shoulders, feeling the sensation of disappearance come over him.

He glanced at Kreacher for a brief moment – ​​the elf was also hidden, but in a much more sinister way, slinking in the shadows, crouching among the rubble. Chaos reigned ahead. The Battle of Hogwarts raged like a living hell.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and magical powder, and screams of pain and despair cut through the darkness like sharp blades. Colorful spells streaked across the sky in bursts of light, dancing like furious lightning among the wreckage. Each explosion shook the ground beneath Harry's feet, carrying with it the echo of lost lives.

"Bombard!" someone shouted, and an explosion echoed, shaking the ground. A "Reducto!" was launched immediately afterward, shattering a nearby stone column. Harry saw debris flying everywhere.

Amidst the flashes of light, he saw a Death Eater shout "Avada Kedavra!" and a jet of green light shot out, while on the other side, a voice responded: "Protego!". The conjured shield reflected the spell, causing the Death Eater to be thrown back. Further ahead, a giant spider was climbing the walls of the castle. Another spell tore through the air: "Confringo!", and the spider broke into pieces.

Kreacher crept forward beside Harry, leading his troop of elves. "Now!" one of the elves shouted, casting a spell that hit an unsuspecting Death Eater. "Get them!" another elf shouted, throwing a Death Eater against a wall.

Harry followed until he saw Lucius was on the ground, making no effort to get up, lost in the chaos. On the other side of the pitch, Hermione was shouting, "Petrificus Totalus!" and Bellatrix dodged at the last moment, countering with a fierce "Crucio!" Hermione raised her wand again, "Protego Maxima!" creating a barrier at the last second.

Ron, his face covered in soot, was advancing on Greyback, shouting, "Diffindo!" as he slashed the air with his wand, trying to hurt the werewolf. Greyback only growled and dodged, his claws reaching out to strike. Harry couldn't stop thinking about them—Ron and Hermione, each facing their own dangers.

Across the pitch, he saw Kingsley fighting. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted, disarming a Death Eater, only to be forced back as two more approached with "Diffindo!" shouted in unison. Arthur Weasley, beside Lupin, tried to resist, but his "Impedimenta! Stupefy!" were coming out with less vigor, while the Dementors sucked the energy from some students on the ground.

Harry advanced on the left, still covered by the cloak, but with his heart pounding. Around him, chaos reigned and then a scream rang out louder than the others.

"Avada Kedavra!" Yaxley's scream sounded like a final sentence.

The jet of green light cut across the battlefield, illuminating the darkness with a deadly glow, hitting Arthur Weasley full on. Harry saw, as if in slow motion, Arthur's body collapse heavily on the ground, his eyes closing in cruel stillness. For a second, the chaos around him went silent for Harry. All he could hear was the muffled sound of his own breathing. Arthur was dead.

"No!" Harry said, but it was drowned out by the thunder around him. And when the world seemed to slow down, he heard it. A scream of pain tore through the battlefield

"Arthur!" – Molly Weasley roared in the distance.

A few meters away, Kingsley was still fighting a horde of dementors floating through the darkness.

- Expecto Patronum! – he shouted, conjuring a glowing panther that drove away a dozen dementors.

But it was not enough.

They surrounded him on all sides, and a Death Eater took advantage of the distraction. "Avada Kedavra!" Alecto Carrow shouted. The light struck Kingsley, who fell to his knees. Harry watched helplessly as Kingsley fell, surrounded by the Dementors, his figure limp on the ground.

The tide was turning, they were losing.

Meanwhile, Ron continued his duel with Greyback. The werewolf lunged at him with claws, but Ron, spinning on his axis, let the claws miss him and attacked.

"Diffindo!" he shouted, and a deep gash appeared on Greyback's chest. The werewolf roared, but Ron continued: "Reducto!" The final blow hit Greyback in the heart, and he fell dead. Harry smiled until he looked back at Hermione.

She was still facing Bellatrix, their wands exchanging spells incessantly. "Crucio!" – Bellatrix roared, but Hermione narrowed her eyes and defended herself:

- Protego! – She said and the barrier glowed around her. Hermione raised her wand again and shouted – Incarcerous! – She said and ropes flew towards Bellatrix, who laughed as she destroyed them in the air with a quick "Diffindo!".

- Ron, go help Neville! – Hermione shouted.

Ron ran towards Nagini, determined to end this.

- Stupefy! – he tried, but Voldemort easily deflected the spell, a cruel smile on his face.

- Do you think you can stop me, Weasley?

Voldemort raised his wand, preparing a spell.

Harry quickened his pace, closing the distance between himself and the snake. He was getting closer and closer to Nagini, but his eyes followed Hermione once more.

- Crucio! – Bellatrix roared.

Hermione raised her wand, but her arm felt heavy.

- Protego! Hermione screamed, but her block allowed some of the shock to reach her. And then came the jet of green light from Bellatrix's wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The jet of green light shot across the field and struck Hermione with cruel precision. She barely had time to raise her wand before she was thrown backwards, her eyes fixed in one last flash of determination before they went out.

Bellatrix's laughter split the air like an ominous thunderclap, echoing across the battle. Hermione fell, the life draining from her body like sand through her fingers, while Ron, in the distance, watched in horror, unable to process what had just happened. He screamed, but it was as if the sound came from another world, his soul torn in half.

"No! No!!" Ron screamed, his voice brimming with pain and rage. He ran towards Bellatrix with tears in his eyes.

"Diffindo!" Ron said, and the spell struck Bellatrix in the arm, tearing off a chunk of flesh. "Hermione! Reducto!" – He cast the spell directly at Bellatrix's chest, who was thrown backwards, her eyes still glazed even after death.

Voldemort raised his wand slowly, as if savoring the moment. He looked directly into Ron's eyes, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. Ron took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable, but unable to move. His eyes traveled to Hermione's limp body beside him. He could say nothing.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light exploded in the air, illuminating Ron's face for one last time. He fell, his fingers almost touching Hermione's hand, pain and relief mingling in his last expression. Harry, watching from afar, felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

Neville rushed to strike Nagini with the Sword of Gryffindor, but Voldemort turned to him, smiling cruelly.

"You will never be worthy of that sword!" Voldemort raised his wand. Neville raised the sword in a final gesture towards the serpent, but the spell struck him before he could strike.

He fell to the ground, and the sword of Gryffindor slipped from his hand toward Kreacher.

As this happened, Harry heard another scream in the distance, Lupin and Tonks being surrounded by werewolves. Lupin, wand in hand, was still casting spells as the werewolves surrounded him. He and Tonks were knocked down together, disappearing under a wave of claws and teeth. The battle was turning into a massacre.

Voldemort, triumphant, began to cast spells that no longer targeted people, destroying parts of the castle.

"Come out, Potter!" he shouted, and an explosion destroyed an entire tower, knocking several wizards off their feet, while debris flew everywhere. The castle was crumbling, and more allies were falling, but Harry was still alive. He was almost there, a dozen steps to Nagini, but then Lucius Malfoy bumped into him and the cloak gave way.

"You. You killed Draco," Lucius said, his voice shaking. Harry raised his wand at the same moment.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted. Lucius's wand flew away, and he fell to his knees, helpless.

"Draco…" Lucius whispered, his voice breaking. Harry stared at him for a second, before following. There she was. The last Horcrux, Nagine.

Before he could cover himself with the cloak again, Harry felt something coming from behind. He turned on instinct, but it was Kreacher who sprang from the shadows in a quick leap.

The shining blade of Gryffindor's sword flashed for a brief second before plunging into Nagini's scaly flesh. Kreacher, his eyes burning with fury and pain, gave a primal scream as he drove the sword deep. The serpent's final hiss echoed across the battlefield as his body convulsed, and then, with a final shudder, he collapsed to the ground, motionless. The elf, panting and covered in blood, staggered back, but did not take his eyes off his fallen enemy. Kreacher had kept his promise.

Voldemort, who was destroying another part of the castle, stopped suddenly. His eyes widened, as if he felt a part of himself being ripped away. It was then that he found Harry.

At that moment, giants advanced, knocking down columns and walls of the castle. Teachers and students screamed as the stones fell. Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick stood side by side, holding out with their last spells, their wands moving with ruthless precision. But the enemy was relentless too.

As the first column collapsed, Flitwick was thrown aside, his wand slipping from his hands. Minerva, gasping, raised her wand one last time, but before she could cast a spell, the weight of the stones crushed her. Her eyes closed softly, the expression of struggle replaced by final rest. Beside her, Flitwick did not move again. The two fell like guardians who had never retreated but now rested in peace. Luna and Sprout were among those crushed. Bill and Fleur tried to help, but the stones continued to fall. The Carrows escaped only to be devoured by the giant spiders.

They no longer recognized friend or foe. Harry stared at Voldemort, the last great obstacle before him. Silence fell for a brief moment, broken only by the distant sound of falling rubble and the roar of giants in the distance.

The ground around them was covered in dust and debris, bodies everywhere. Voldemort advanced, wand in hand, red eyes blazing.

"Do you think you can defeat me, Potter?" Voldemort said in a cold voice that echoed across the destroyed battlefield. "All your friends are gone. Only you remain."

Harry gripped his wand tightly, his heart heavy. He could not speak. Voldemort raised his wand quickly.

- Avada Kedavra! - The jet of green light cut through the air like lightning. At the same time, Harry acted on pure instinct.

- Expelliarmus!

The two curses met in midair, colliding with tremendous force. The impact of the opposing energies created an explosion that illuminated the surrounding debris.

Harry felt the pressure increase, the weight accumulating on his shoulders. His muscles burned, but he could not give up yet. Voldemort's wand began to tremble, and the dark wizard's face changed.

- You cannot defeat me! - Voldemort roared, forcing the spell even more until the wand made a crack.

Harry concentrated the last of his strength inside him and, with a last scream, pushed all his will against Voldemort. The spell tore through the air, exploding in a wave of energy that ripped three fingers off the lord's hand.

Voldemort stared at his empty hand in disbelief, before realizing there was nothing more he could do.

"No..." he said, horror finally spreading across his face.

The horror Harry knew so well. Without the protection of the Horcruxes and without Nagini, he was just a man. And at that moment, the spell Harry had cast flew at him.

"Avada Kedavra," Harry shouted. The green light flashed, hitting Voldemort full on, his body collapsed to the ground, inert, and the silence that followed was heavy.

Harry stood still, his chest heaving as if he couldn't breathe. His eyes fixed on Voldemort's inert body - the most feared wizard of all time, now just a corpse. He had finally won, but the victory felt bitter.

It was over, he told himself. It was over. But as he looked around at the bodies of his fallen friends, reality hit him like a wave. At what cost? The battlefield was a sea of ​​rubble and death.

As the dust began to settle, Harry looked around. Bodies were strewn everywhere – Ron, Hermione, Neville, Lupin, Tonks, Arthur, Luna… too many to count.

Hogwarts was gone.

In another pile of bodies he saw Aberforth, Minerva, Finnigan, Thomas, Padma, Parvati, Horace, Cho. And then he saw Hagrid. The half-giant had lost a foot, but his face looked peaceful. Harry sat down beside him and began to cry.

It was then that he saw a small figure approaching.

Kreacher, his body wounded, but alive. He crawled towards Harry, his eyes wide and sad, but determined.

"Master Harry… Kreacher did what he could…" the elf said hoarsely.

Harry nodded, unable to find the words.

Suddenly, a movement in the distance caught Harry's attention. Lucius Malfoy was rising from the rubble. He looked around, his eyes empty, before turning and running away. Harry made no attempt to stop him.

Lucius Malfoy was no longer a threat. He was just a broken man, trying to escape a war he had helped create. A coward. As Lucius disappeared over the horizon, Harry turned to face what was left of Hogwarts. The silence was now absolute.

No screams, no spells, just the distant sound of the wind blowing through the ruins of the castle.

Harry and Kreacher were the only ones there. The battlefield was a graveyard, and the feeling of emptiness was overwhelming.

The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, bathing the destroyed castle in a soft light, but to Harry the light seemed a cruel reminder of the lives that had been lost.

He knelt among the bodies and apologized.